A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 285: No! It’s Impossible!

Chapter 285: No! It’s Impossible!

Old Master Lenort’s hand that was holding onto the photo trembled, and he quickly let go of it, letting it fall to the floor.

The photo was of none other than Erawada, Draven’s mother. He could tell that each of those framed pictures was painted by Draven. He was a perfect artist after all, but what was the meaning of it?

Why was he sending the framed pictures of his mother to him?

Old Master Lenort’s eyes vehemently narrowed into a thin line. He looked through the other photos and came across a white piece of pepper that looked like a letter.

He opened it, and in it was written: Happy birthday to you, father. I hope it was wonderful.

I’m sure that by now, you must have looked through those beautiful paintings of your wife. They are beautiful, are they not?

Hmm, do you remember what today is? I am not sure if your old brain would, but I don’t mind helping you out.

Today, on the thirteenth of November, was the day you killed your wife—the day you set her on fire before the eyes of her son, the mocking eyes of the royal family, and even as low as the maids and the workers. Today was the day you killed hershamelessly without mercy or remorse.

I don’t ever want you to forget it, and thus it is why I took the trouble to make these paintings, frame them, and give them to you. It makes you happy, does it not?

Well, it is my pleasure, father. I don’t mind sending you more of it. Happy birthday once again! Live long.

Sincerely, your third son,

Draven.

Old Master Lenort’s hands trembled rapidly, and in a sudden rage, he tore the letter into pieces. He angrily growled, grabbing the photo closest to him and throwing it against the wall. The glass broke, and the photo dropped to the floor.

He reached for the other two and smashed them onto the floor, breaking the glasses into pieces. With his feet, he began to stomp on the photo and destroy it.

"Photos, my foot! Useless!" He heavily scowled, beyond infuriated. Of course, he knew that this was Draven taunting him.

Hmph! Reminding him of such a day, did he think it would make him feel guilty? NEVER!

He, Lenort, would never feel guilty for killing someone very deserving of it. Erawada’s existence alone was not needed, she was just a maid after all. No one cares, and no one will!

He took heavy, deep breaths to calm himself down, and once he did, he balled his hands into a tight fist.

"You think that you can ruin my day with this nonsense?" His lips slowly curled into a smile, and he tipped his head to his side. "Then I will hurt you again. I’m sure you will be used to it by now...having your happiness taken away from you."

He chuckled dangerously to himself and called for one of his butlers.

"My lord." The butler, who had short blonde hair, immediately went down on one knee as a sign of respect. His light blue eyes were sharp and lazy.

"Invite Edward from the Moriarty household to the royal mansion, Aldéric. I have a job for him," Old Master Lenort assigned.

"He is one of the county coroners, is he not?"

The butler, Aldéric, nodded, confirming, "Yes, my lord."

"Good. I would like him to perform an autopsy on my daughter-in-law." Old Master Lenort smiled to himself. "Have him in the royal mansion by evening, he will be staying for a while. I must have him do something for me—something only he can possibly do."

"Yes, my lord." Aldéric straightened up and left the office, shutting the door behind him.

Old Master Lenort crossed his legs and folded his arms, his lips curving into a dirty, creepy smile.

"You fell in love, son?" He sighed. "I cannot let you be happy, you do not deserve it. I will punish you where it hurts the most. I will take yet another thing you care for from you."

He burst into laughter and began to chuckle as though having gone berserk. "Oh, this will be such a pleasure to watch! I have not seen you suffer in a while, son, I have not! And I...I MISS IT!!"

He deeply sighed, moving over to open the rest of the boxes.

——

Ryan sat in his office, seeming to be in deep thought. Considering what Lestat had talked to him about, he had been thinking, trying to figure out who could have wanted to harm his wife.

He was sure that her case was murder because there was absolutely nothing wrong with Natasha. She was completely healthy and fine, therefore, if anything had been wrong with her, she would have known, and even he would have realized it.

Ryan took a deep breath. He tightened his grip on the pen he had in the palms of his hand and stood up from the chair. He began to pace back and forth, heavily racking through his brain for any clue, but at the end of it all, he got nothing.

Having given up on pondering about it, Ryan exhaled, ready to leave his office, but that was when a sudden memory struck—a particular memory of Valentine walking into his private quarter and talking to him about Draven.

He recalled Valentine specifically telling him that the one whom his wife needed to be careful and afraid of was Draven, not even his father. Draven was, after all, someone who’d always made sure to pay back tenfold, no matter how little the crime.

All of a sudden, the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

Killing his wife was revenge. Natasha did attempt to unalive Avelina.

Or... or could it be that it wasn’t just because Natasha attempted to kill his wife? Could it be that he knew Natasha had a hand in the death of his late wife?

No! It’s impossible! Ryan immediately shook his head. There was no way Draven could possibly know. That secret was so well kept that not even Lumian or Lestat’s wife had an idea.