Chapter 55 A MUTATE??
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
GENERAL POV
Mrs. Draven sat stiffly in the living room, her fingers wrapped around a porcelain teacup she had long forgotten to drink from. Kane was still not back.
Again.
She tried not to let it bother her, tried to remind herself that Kane was no longer a child who needed to report his movements. But the ache sat stubbornly in her chest. Ever since Sally died, something had shifted between them. He had built walls. High ones. And no matter how much she tried, she never quite knew how to climb over them.
Her gaze drifted toward the wide staircase just as soft footsteps echoed down the hall.
Micky.
The little girl appeared, seated on the floor with her toys spread around her, humming quietly as she arranged her dolls. Mrs. Draven’s heart softened instantly. She had finally met her granddaughter after so long, and the feeling still overwhelmed her. Micky was a blessing she hadn’t known she needed.
Mrs. Draven stood and walked toward her, lowering herself slowly onto the rug beside the child.
“My darling,” she said softly. “What are you playing?”
Micky didn’t look up. She kept adjusting a doll’s tiny dress before answering, her voice casual, innocent.
“I’m playing family.”
Mrs. Draven smiled faintly. “Family, hmm?”
“Yes.” Micky nodded, then suddenly added, “Do you know my new mama?”
“New… mama?” she repeated slowly, disbelief slipping into her tone.
Micky finally looked up. “Yes. My new mama.”
Mrs. Draven’s brows furrowed. “And who is this new mama?”
“She’s called Samantha,” Micky said simply. “She looks exactly like my mama.”
Mrs. Draven stared at her granddaughter, shock flooding her senses. Her informants had whispered about the mutate in the mansion. A woman who bore Sally’s face like a joke. She had dismissed it as exaggeration, rumor. But hearing it now from a child’s mouth made her blood run cold.
She swallowed hard. “Micky darling… why do you call her your new mummy?”
“Because she’s nice,” Micky replied, already distracted again, stacking blocks. “She cuddles me when I have those scary dreams. She doesn’t shout. She smells nice too.”
Mrs. Draven’s chest tightened.
She had barely recovered when Micky added, almost casually, “You said you brought a new mama for me. Would you want me to meet her?”
Mrs. Draven’s heart leapt. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Would you?”
“Nooo,” Micky replied instantly, shaking her head, eyes still fixed on her toys. “I don’t want to.”
Before she could ask another question, Micky stood up abruptly.
“I’m coming,” she said, already moving away.
“I’m looking for Nanny.”
Mrs. Draven watched her go, unease coiling tighter inside her. The words of the new mama echoed in her head like a warning bell.
She rose to her feet, resolved to settle in.
She needed answers. Now.
The moment she spotted Nanny in the corridor, she didn’t bother with pleasantries.
“Where is Samantha’s room?” Mrs. Draven demanded. “And why haven’t I seen her yet? Why isn’t she out here greeting me like every other servant? And why is she not working?”
The questions tumbled out sharp and fast.
Nanny stopped short.
She looked at Mrs. Draven with mixed emotions. There was joy in her eyes, but also pity. A dangerous combination.
“Actually, ma,” Nanny said carefully, “Samantha is not allowed to do hard work. Or any hard labor.”
Mrs. Draven stiffened. “Why?”
Nanny hesitated. Then quietly said, “She’s Kane’s…mutate .”
Mrs. Draven’s lips curled in disgust. “You mean his whore?” she said, spelling it out without shame.
Nanny lowered her head. “Yes, ma.”
Mrs. Draven let out a bitter laugh. “Tell me something,” she said sharply. “Why does she look like Sally? I’ve heard a lot. Does she really?”
“You need to see her for yourself,” Nanny replied softly.
Mrs. Draven stepped back, hand flying to her chest. “Wow,” she breathed. “Maybe Sally really did come back to torment me.”
“She is not Sally,” Nanny said quickly. “She’s nothing like her. She only has her face.”
Mrs. Draven’s eyes narrowed. “Then why is Kane entering trouble because of her? Kane loved Sally. If she isn’t Sally, he should have repelled her.”
Nanny sighed. “Yes, ma. But instead… he buys her luxury things. The fastest gadgets. He orders everyone not to make her work. He doesn’t punish her anymore, even when it’s deserved.”
Mrs. Draven’s breath grew shallow.
“I fear the worst, ma,” Nanny continued. “She’s making him fall.”
“No,” Mrs. Draven snapped. “No, no, no. My Kane would never fall for trash.”
Nanny looked away. Then quietly said, “The Widow Collector visited.”
Mrs. Draven’s heart stopped. “What?”
“He came to warn Kane,” Nanny went on. “He said there would be consequences if he continued being with her. He said Kane would die.”
The scream tore out of Mrs. Draven’s throat.
“What?” she shrieked. “Why haven’t you told me since?”
Her voice echoed through the mansion, sharp with fear and fury.
Nanny flinched. “I wanted Kane to tell you himself, ma.”
Mrs. Draven didn’t listen. Her mind was already racing. Death. Widow Collector. A woman with Sally’s face. Kane’s weakness.
Everything was falling into place, and she didn’t like the picture it painted.
She straightened, eyes blazing.
“Take me to her,” she ordered. “Now.”
Mrs. Draven stormed down the corridor, each step fueled by dread and determination.
If this Samantha was truly the reason Kane stood on the edge of destruction, then she would face her herself.