Mr. Micawber and his wife had already left for their homeland, promising Kay they would return before the wedding.
Kay had watched their car disappear down the dusty road with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Everything was falling into place—just as she had planned.
Time skip.
Miss Dora, lost in her sea of wedding preparations, sent Lara to Kay's house to check on the outfits.
Lara arrived in the afternoon, carrying her list and knocking politely on the door.
No answer.
She rang again.
Nothing.
After the fourth attempt, she sighed and turned to leave… when she noticed the door wasn't locked.
It was slightly ajar, creaking softly in the wind.
"Strange," she murmured, pushing it open and stepping inside.
The house was unnervingly silent, the air heavy with perfume and something else—something sharp, metallic. She moved into the hall and looked around, calling softly, "Kay?"
No response.
She took another step, then froze.
A voice drifted from upstairs, low and silky, wrapped in amusement.
"…yeah, alright, but what about the deal?"
Lara's heart lurched. She followed the sound, footsteps careful on the wooden floor, until she reached a door slightly ajar. Through the narrow gap, she saw Kay, lounging on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, her face twisted in an annoyance that looked almost cruel.
"Ahh, don't worry," Kay purred into the receiver, her smile dark and sharp. "Just a few days more and I'll be the new boss of the Stevenson mansion. Don't worry about that old woman—I'll handle her myself."
Lara's breath caught. She stepped closer, unable to look away.
Kay laughed softly, a sound without warmth. "Don't worry, darling… all the money will be mine soon. I'll pay you whatever you want. Just keep him away from this matter."
She paused, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Oh, babe, I don't want the son's attention—I want his father's. I'll get him wrapped around my little finger, then everything will fall into place."
Lara's hands trembled.
"And that kid?" Kay's voice dipped lower, colder. "That little brat? I'll throw him out. It's not a big deal. I just want David's—oh, excuse me—David's money."
A smile curved her lips, slow and poisonous.
"And if that old hag keeps interfering…" Her tone changed, deep and dusky. "…then I'll kill her."
Lara felt the blood drain from her face. A chill swept through her body. She stepped back, her hand brushing against a porcelain vase on the table.
It toppled.
Shattered against the floor with a sound like a gunshot.
Kay's head snapped up. "There's someone here," she hissed into the phone. "I'll call you back."
The phone hit the bed. Her heels clicked against the floor as she strode to the doorway.
Lara spun and ran, heart hammering. But Kay was faster. Younger. Predatory. Within seconds she stepped in front of her, blocking the hallway, eyes glittering like knives.
"Well, well…" Kay purred, tilting her head. "What an interesting little hobby you have, dear Lara."
Lara stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I—I don't know what you're talking about."
Kay's smile widened, slow and cruel. "Oh, come on. I'm talking about your hobby of sneaking into other people's houses and listening to things that don't concern you."
"I… I didn't hear anything—please, I swear—"
"Shhh." Kay's finger pressed against Lara's lips. "You're trembling. Why are you running if you didn't hear anything?" Her voice dropped lower, huskier. "Don't you want to stay? Don't you want to… have tea with me?"
"I… I should go… I'm not feeling well…" Lara's words tumbled over each other as she tried to step back.
Kay's eyes gleamed, a slow grin curling her mouth. "Oh, is that so? Come on then—let's sit down, have some cookies. Doesn't that sound… lovely?"
Lara shook her head, backing away. "No… please… let me go…"
Kay didn't move. Her smile vanished, her face hardening into something inhuman.
"You've heard something that was never meant for you," she whispered, stepping closer. "And I don't like… nosy people."
Lara's legs felt like stone. The hallway seemed to shrink around her, shadows crawling along the walls.
Kay tilted her head, as though considering something. "You know… I'm a fan of Mao Zedong. And Samuel. The way they killed people—their methods—oh, breathtaking." Her voice trembled with dark delight. "Murder is an art, Lara. They're crush material, don't you think?"
Lara's breath hitched. "Murderers…? You—you're sick. I thought you were a good girl. I chose you for David—"
Kay's hand shot out, gripping Lara's collar and yanking her forward. The sweetness vanished from her face, leaving only venom.
"And you think I'm going to let you tell him?" Kay hissed, eyes blazing. "You think you'll walk out of here alive?"
Lara clawed at her hand, terror flooding her chest. "Please… please don't…"
Kay's lips brushed her ear as she whispered, "You know my secrets now, darling. That means… you don't get to live."
Lara shoved her away with all her strength and bolted toward the door. Kay moved like lightning. Her hand closed around a heavy vase on the side table.
With a soundless snarl, she hurled it.
It struck Lara's head with a sickening thud.
The world tilted. Dark spots danced across her vision. The walls blurred, the floor rushing up to meet her. Kay's silhouette stood over her, tall and cold, as the shadows swallowed her sight.
The house fell silent again.
Only Kay's voice remained, soft and cruel, humming a tune as she crouched beside Lara's limp body.
Outside, the wind carried away the sound of breaking glass… and somewhere far away, a wedding date waited, unaware of the darkness growing within the heart of the bride.