Shadows In The Mansion

CHAPTER 4

(Shadows In The Mansion)

The Fairchild mansion was silent when the car pulled up. Shadows dragged along the marble steps, the house waiting, watching.

The ride had been suffocating. William hadn't spoken another word to her, his calmness was sharp enough to wound. 

Anna nearly sighed with relief just stepping out, her nerves tangled so tight they hurt.

William said nothing as he stepped out first. Anna followed, nerves pinching her stomach. 

Inside, the butler appeared instantly, bowing low.

“Mrs. Fairchild returned early,” he said softly. “She felt unwell.”

William's expression shifted… coldness cracking into concern. “Mother?”

“She's resting upstairs, sir.”

Without another word, William started forward. Anna trailed him, her pulse quickening.

At the top of the grand staircase, Katherine Fairchild stood waiting. Draped in scarlet silk, her posture flawless, she held the railing with casual grace. Her gaze swept past her son to Anna, piercing and unblinking.

“Mother,” William said, softer than he'd spoken all evening. “I learned you felt unwell. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I am well enough now. You needn't worry yourself.” Her voice was smooth, purposeful. She fixed her eyes on Anna. 

“Are you certain?” 

“Yes Liam,” she said the name, gently.

Anna's chest tightened. Watching them. She suddenly felt like an intruder, third wheeling between mother and son.

Katherine turned her gaze to Anna once again.

Her voice curved like silk over steel.

“Come here dear.” 

The word dear bit into her like ice.

It chilled. No warmth, no affection… only judgement wrapped in silk.

Anna stepped forward, her legs heavy. She tried to smile, tried to be proper. Leaning in, she moved to greet Katherine with a kiss on the cheek.

Katherine shifted back. The rejection was subtle, but brutal. As though Anna carried a deadly plague. The rejection landed like a tight slap.

Anna froze, heat rushing to her face.

Katherine studied her like one inspects flawed porcelain. Then she offered a thin smile.

“Welcome to the Fairchild mansion dear. This house has stood on dignity and restraint for generations. I expect you will respect that.”

“Yes, Mrs. Fairchild,” Anna whispered.

“Good.” Katherine turned gracefully, already moving up the stairs. “Do walk gently. Everyone is asleep. They deserve quietness after such an… eventful day.”

Her voice lingered, soft as silk, sharp as a knife.

Anna nodded. “Yes. Mrs Fairchild.”

Anna stood in place, throat tight. William's face was unreadable.

“Come,” he said curtly, and continued down the hall.

********

In their bedroom, William shed his jacket and loosened his tie with silent, precise movements. Anna hovered near the bed, unsure if she were meant to sit, stand… breathe.

“You'll sleep here,” he said flatly, not looking at her.

Her lips parted. “And you?”

“I'll be here when I choose.”

Uncomfortable silence stretched between them. He finally looked at her, eyes like dark glass.

“There will be children.” His voice was low, controlled. “Having heirs is the sole purpose of this union. Do you understand?”

Her throat tightened. “Yes.”

“Then sleep.”

He moved to the adjoining study, the door closing like a final judgement, leaving her staring at the empty bed.

********

Hours passed as Anna lay rigid, Lauren's face haunting her. Lauren's laugh, Lauren's dress, Lauren's blood. Her corpse.

She couldn't sleep.

She couldn't stop replaying the vivid images of the day, or get it out of her head, she's been twisting and turning, all to no avail.

She couldn't unsee her sister's dead body, laying in the bathtub.

She turned and turned but could not escape them.

It's as if Lauren followed her, whispering to her from the grave.

At last when she could bear it no longer, she rose and quietly went through the hall, down the stairs for water. Her steps light as a mouse.

She could still remember what Mrs Fairchild said earlier.

Walk gently. And she obeyed.

The kitchen was dim, moonlight glinting off silver. She poured a glass with shaking hands.

“Can't sleep?”

The voice slid from the shadows. Smooth. Mocking.

Anna turned sharply, the glass slipped in her hand, nearly shattering.

Helena sat on the counter in a black silk robe, glass of wine in hand. Her cat was perched atop the counter, its golden eyes glowing in dark.

She looked like she belonged to the night itself, beautiful, dangerous and effortless.

Anna swallowed. “I—just needed water,”

Helena's smile cut. “Of course you did. Brides in mourning always get thirsty.”

Anna flinched.

“So, has my dear brother William had sex with you yet?” she asked out of the blue.

Anna frowned at that uncomfortable question, her brain searching for ways to answer.

“What?”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head.

Helena sipped her wine leisurely. “Do you know what everyone whispered tonight? That William would never have touched you if Lauren hadn't bled out first. You were the second choice. A stand in. A show. Nothing more. And they were right.”

She gripped the glass tighter.

“You were never meant to be here,” Helena went on. “You know that don't you? Lauren was the priced jewel. You…” 

Her gaze swept Anna like a blade. “... you're the leftover scraps.” 

Anna blinked hard, fighting tears.

She wouldn't want to give Helena that satisfaction of seeing her break down and cry.

Helena slid down from the counter, as she moved closer with feline grace.

“And William… he won't want you. Not really. Oh, he might bed you eventually… for the heirs, of course. But desire? Affection?” 

Her laugh was soft, cruel. “You'll never know them from him.”

Her face drew closer, whispering poison.

“And one day, when he tires of the charade…” 

She leaned closer, with a whisper like pure poison. “He'll discard you like trash. Just like your mother. Just like everyone else you've ever met.”

Anna's breath hitched. The tears came then, hot and humiliating, spilling despite her will.

Helena laughed softly, savoring her pain. 

“There she is. The real Anna. Weak. Pathetic. Pitiful. Alone.”

The words dug deep, leaving Anna raw.

She laughed softly once again. “Poor Anna. Even ghosts cast longer shadows than you.”

Anna forced out. “Why are you doing this?”

Helena tilted her head, smiling like a predator.

“Because I like watching fragile things break.”

She stepped closer. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” She smiled, cruel and slow.

“A girl who doesn't belong. And girls who don't belong… don't last long in this family.”

Anna's heart slammed against her ribs.

Helena raised her glass in a taunting toast. “Welcome to the Fairchild family, darling sister in law. May you choke on it.”

She drained the wine, then pressed the empty wine glass in Anna's trembling hands.

“Be a darling and clean that up at once.” She ordered with a saccharine smile that chilled Anna.

She brushed past her, silk whispering in the silence, with Nyx hot on her tail. At the doorway, she turned her head just enough for her final words to strike.

“Sleep well, sister. If you can.”

Then she was gone, leaving Anna frozen, trembling in the dark.

Anna slowly slid down the counter to the cold polished marble floors, her heart hammering in her chest, her tears of pain, coursing down her cheeks.

And for the first time, Anna was aware. She realized that she was not just unwanted in the Fairchild mansion.

It wasn't just a house to begin with.

It was a hunting ground.

And she was the prey.