Volume 3: The End of the Lies and the Rebirth of the Iris
Irene, stepping out of the study, felt as if she had fallen into an ice cave. Sean's last warning, "Carl Howard is a dangerous man," lingered in her mind like a curse. She had been carefully on guard against everyone in the Rockefeller family, yet she had overlooked the seemingly gentle and harmless gallery owner.
She walked quickly back to her room, her steps as heavy as if weighted down by lead. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the door panel and let out a long sigh. A faint scent of iris filled the air, the fragrance of the perfume that Olivia had loved the most, and also a shackle that reminded her of her own identity.
The room was luxuriously and exquisitely decorated, and every item reflected the taste of the Rockefeller family. But Irene felt oppressed. In her eyes, these magnificent decorations were nothing but a pile of lies and hypocrisy.
She walked to the window, pushed aside the thick velvet curtains, and looked down at the view of the manor. Night had completely fallen, and the lights in the manor twinkled like stars, dispelling the surrounding darkness. But Irene knew that in the places where these lights couldn't reach, countless shadows and secrets were hidden.
Uncle Sean's dinner party was like a huge trap, waiting for the prey to fall into it. And she was the prey being lured in.
She needed Carl, she needed his help. But now, she couldn't even be sure if Carl was truly trustworthy.
Irene walked to the dressing table and looked at herself in the mirror. She had already changed into that black evening gown, a dress that had belonged to Olivia and was also a symbol of the mistress of the Rockefeller family. The gown was perfectly tailored to fit her figure, highlighting her slender waist and long legs.
However, she didn't feel the slightest bit of joy. This gorgeous gown was more like a prison uniform that bound her.
She picked up the jewelry box on the dressing table. When she opened it, there were various expensive jewels inside. These were all gifts that Sean had given to "Olivia," and each piece was priceless.
Irene picked up a diamond-encrusted necklace. Under the light, the diamonds sparkled with a dazzling brilliance. But she found it blinding. These cold stones couldn't warm the chill in her heart.
She put the necklace back into the jewelry box and her gaze fell on the blood-red iris brooch. This brooch had been left to her by Olivia and was the only thing that truly belonged to her.
She picked up the brooch and gently stroked the petal carved from rubies. The vivid red color was like congealed blood, carrying an eerie beauty.
She remembered that before Olivia passed away, she had tightly held her hand and said in a weak voice, "Irene... promise me... you must avenge me..."
Irene pinned the brooch to her chest, as if she could feel Olivia's soul watching over her. She took a deep breath, and her eyes became firm and resolute.
She couldn't back down. She couldn't let Olivia's death be in vain.
She walked to the bed, picked up her handbag, in which there was a small pistol. This was a means of self-defense she had learned in the slums. In this dangerous world, a weapon was her only reliance.
She put the pistol into her handbag, then picked up her phone and dialed Carl's number.
The phone rang a few times before it was answered.
"Irene?" Carl's voice was still gentle and low, with a hint of concern. "What's the matter?"
"Carl, will you come to the dinner party tonight?" Irene asked, trying her best to keep her voice calm so that Carl wouldn't detect anything unusual.
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then Carl replied, "Of course. I promised you that I would support you."
"Sean said that you have other motives for getting close to the Rockefeller family," Irene said bluntly, trying to test Carl's reaction.
Carl chuckled and said, "Do you believe what Sean said?"
"I don't know who to believe," Irene said frankly. "Carl, I need your help, but I need to know the truth."
"The truth?" Carl's voice became a bit ethereal. "The truth is often more brutal than lies. Are you sure you really want to know?"
"Anyway, I have to know," Irene said firmly. "Carl, tell me, who exactly are you? And what's your relationship with Sean's mother?"
There was silence on the other end of the line again. Irene held her breath, waiting for Carl's answer.
After a long while, Carl slowly said, "Irene, I'll tell you everything at the dinner party tonight. But you have to promise me that no matter what happens, you'll stay calm."
"I promise you," Irene said.
Hanging up the phone, Irene felt a sense of bewilderment. Carl's words increased her unease even more. What exactly was he hiding? What kind of secret was there between him and Sean's mother?
She looked up at herself in the mirror, and her eyes became sharp and vigilant. Tonight's dinner party would be a dangerous adventure full of crises, and she had to be fully prepared.
She opened the wardrobe, found a black shawl, and draped it over her shoulders. The shawl covered her arms and also the pistol hidden in her handbag.
Having made all the preparations, Irene pushed open the door and walked downstairs.
The banquet hall of the Rockefeller Manor was ablaze with lights and filled with guests. Ladies in gorgeous gowns held champagne glasses and exchanged greetings with each other. Gentlemen in suits gathered together, talking about business and politics.
The air was filled with the scent of expensive perfume and alcohol, which blended together to form an intoxicating aroma.
Irene slowly walked down the stairs. Her appearance immediately attracted everyone's attention.
She was wearing a black evening gown, her figure graceful, like an iris in full bloom in the dark night, noble and cold. There was delicate makeup on her face, but her eyes were cold and vigilant, like a cheetah ready to fight at any moment.
Sean stood in the center of the banquet hall. He was wearing a black suit, looking even more handsome and tall. But the tiredness on his face and in his eyes couldn't hide the vulnerability in his heart.
He saw Irene. His eyes flickered for a moment, and then he walked towards her.
"You're here," Sean said, his voice low and hoarse. "You look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you," Irene said indifferently. Her eyes scanned everyone in the banquet hall, trying to find Carl's figure.
"My uncle will also be here tonight," Sean said, his voice full of disgust. "He will use this opportunity to put pressure on you and make you admit your identity."
"I know," Irene said. She wasn't afraid. She had already prepared for the worst.
"I..." Sean hesitated, as if he had something to say to her, but in the end, he chose to remain silent.
Just then, a deep voice broke the silence between them.
"Good evening, Irene."
Irene turned around and saw Carl standing behind her. He was wearing a dark blue suit, looking elegant and gentlemanly. There was a gentle smile on his face, but his eyes were deep and mysterious, making it impossible to see through.
"Carl," Irene said, her voice trembling a little. She couldn't control her emotions.
"I'm here," Carl said, his eyes gently fixed on her. "I promised you that I would support you."
Sean's eyes became sharp. He stared intently at Carl, as if he wanted to see through him.
"Carl Howard," Sean said coldly. "What are you doing here?"
Carl smiled slightly and said, "I'm here for the dinner party, and by the way... to see Irene."
"You!" Sean was furious. He clenched his fists tightly, as if he was going to rush up and fight Carl.
"Sean!" Irene quickly stopped him. She didn't want things to get worse.
"Don't be impulsive," Irene whispered to Sean. "Carl is my friend."
"Friend?" Sean sneered. "Are you sure he's really your friend?"
Irene didn't answer. She turned her head and looked at Carl, her eyes full of questions and expectations.
"Carl," she said. "Tell me, the truth."
Carl's smile disappeared, and his eyes became solemn. He took a deep breath and slowly said, "Irene, I know you have a lot of questions. I'll tell you everything tonight. But now, let's go and meet Mr. Rockefeller first."
As he spoke, Carl extended his hand and invited Irene to walk with him towards Uncle Sean, who was standing among the crowd. Irene hesitated for a moment, but finally put her hand into Carl's.
Her heart was pounding fast. She knew that tonight's dinner party would be a turning point in her fate. Whether she could find the truth and avenge Olivia depended on tonight.
And she could only choose to believe in Carl. Even if she knew that this might be a wrong decision.
The banquet hall was like a magnificent stage, where everyone was playing their own role, and Irene was right in the center of the storm, waiting for the final judgment.