Alle Kapitel von Veiled Deception: Kapitel 21 – Kapitel 30

That night, I didn’t read Katherine’s autobiography like a curious girl.I read it like someone looking for a weakness in the walls.I sat on the floor, back against the bed, knees drawn up. The lamp was dim. The curtains were shut. The room felt smaller than it had the night before.Not because the furniture changed.Because I had.The first page I opened to wasn’t romantic.It wasn’t poetic.It was sharp.At first, the control was subtle…I paused, rereading that line until my jaw tightened.Subtle control.I understood it too well now.I’d lived it with Josh—how he’d stopped answering calls, then blamed me for being needy. How he’d made Lily feel like a better option and told me it was because I “worked too much.” Like ambition was a crime.And my father—God, my father made an art of subtle control. The way he’d call me princess when he wanted something. The way he’d raise his voice like I was a child when I refused. The way he signed my life away and called it “for my own good.”D

The west wing called to me like a dare.Not in a romantic way.In the way a cliff calls to you when you’re angry enough to stop caring about your bones.I didn’t go there.Not yet.Instead, I began testing the mansion’s rules quietly.Doors first.Then staff reactions.Then timing.At exactly 9:00 p.m., Violet left the main floor. At 9:10, two guards swapped shifts. At 9:15, the kitchen lights dimmed. At 9:20, the hallway near the west wing went quiet in a way it didn’t during the day.I was learning the house’s breathing pattern.And when you learn a thing’s breathing pattern, you can learn when it’s vulnerable.That night, I read Katherine again.Not for drama.For information.She wrote about a staff member saving her daughter once. She wrote about something that happened at the pool. She wrote about jealousy like it was an infection she couldn’t cure.But she also wrote about something else—something more subtle than hate:Everyone plays a role in this house. Even the ones who pre

Training with Violet wasn’t training.It was psychological warfare.She taught me how Damien liked his schedules arranged. How his calls were filtered. How staff were expected to speak. How silence was maintained. How “problems” were handled before they became visible.Every instruction came with a message underneath:This house runs without you. Don’t pretend you matter.I refused to give her the satisfaction of reacting.I watched her instead.Because Violet didn’t just serve Damien.She belonged to him in the way only obsessed people belong—by proximity, by devotion, by hunger disguised as loyalty.By the third day, I noticed something:Whenever Damien’s name was praised, Violet’s posture shifted.Pride.Possession.Like she owned the reputation she was protecting.That night, when Violet left, I went back to my room and pulled out Katherine’s autobiography.I read slowly.And I found a line that made my blood run cold:Some people smile beside him because they want what he has. So

The music didn’t stop.That was the cruellest part.The violin section kept bleeding elegance into the air while my insides were turning into shards. Waiters still moved like floating shadows between tables. Crystal glasses still clinked softly. Laughter still rose and fell in perfect timing—rich people laughing as if tragedy was something that happened to other families, somewhere far away, on some other channel.But in my head, there was only one word.Uncle.Josh’s mouth had shaped it like it was a joke he’d been holding in his pocket all night, waiting for the right moment to flip it open and watch me cut myself on it.“He’s my uncle.”The chandeliers above us could’ve fallen and crushed the entire room, and the guests would’ve still tried to look graceful about it. That’s what this place was—beauty covering bones.I stared at Damien first, because it was easier than staring at Josh.Damien’s expression didn’t change.No flinch. No denial. No shock.It was the face of a man who ha

By the time I got back to my room, the house was quiet.Not the peaceful kind of quiet either. The kind that makes a big house feel… too big.I kicked the door shut behind me and immediately bent down to pull off my heels. My feet hurt in that dull, irritated way that made me regret every decision that led to tonight’s banquet.The dress wasn’t much better.I stepped out of it carefully and tossed it over the back of the chair. The fabric slid halfway down and hung there, as if it were also exhausted from the evening.“Good,” I muttered to no one.The room smelled faintly like the lavender soap the staff used. Clean. Calm. Nothing like the ballroom from earlier, where everything had smelled like perfume, champagne, and expensive people pretending to enjoy each other.I walked over to the vanity and started pulling the pins out of my hair.One by one, they clinked softly against the glass table.Josh’s voice from earlier floated back into my mind.“My uncle will handle it.”Uncle.I p