It's Your Turn To Cry and Beg, Dear Uncle
Chapter 28: The Intricately Woven Scheme

Chapter 28: The Intricately Woven Scheme

It had been hours since Lila arrived home. However, the woman did not show any signs of moving. She remained seated at the foot of her bed. Her face was as pale as a sheet. She was gnawing at her thumb ever so vigorously while she couldn’t seem to stop her right leg from shaking.

The memory of the incident continued to haunt her mind like a broken radio that kept on repeating, plunging her deeper and deeper into the abyss of fear.

Her heart would not calm down even though she had tried to breathe many times. In fact, she had only felt worse and worse as the clock ticked away. Then, not long afterwards, even breathing became difficult for her. A layer of cold sweat had long covered her temple.

The incident that should not have been her fault was eating away at her soul. No one knew since when, but the confidence she had shown in front of Jane had slowly disappeared, eroded by the overflowing panic.

It was as if a veil of darkness descended upon her eyes. The line between truth and lies became increasingly blurred, opening a path for seeds of doubt to grow. Her brain began to play with herself, sabotaging her ability to think. At that moment, thousands of questions raided her mercilessly.

Was she really innocent?

Did she really not push Kyra?

But then, why did the sensation in her hand feel so real?

She remembered touching Kyra. She remembered stepping forward to close the distance between them. She remembered how upset she had been when she faced Kyra. The young woman’s arrogance and how she had refused to respect her, all converged into a mixture of hatred and inexplicable fury.

After that, she remembered the feeling that gripped her entire being: she had to crush this young woman beneath her.

"I didn’t do it! Kyra framed me!"

At that time, Lila had insisted on defending herself despite the overwhelming fear. She had to grit her teeth and maintain her innocence even though her opponent was Killian, a cold-blooded man who she believed incapable of emotions.

"Is that so?" His tone was solemn without a hint of doubt. In fact, he looked at her so casually as if it was already confirmed that the fault lied on her and now he was merely watching her act out.

"Isn’t it your job to investigate the truth?!" Lila became annoyed. Her voice immediately rose.

Killian had raised an eyebrow and said, "It seems that you have the wrong assumption. I am not a police officer or a detective. I am not here to seek the truth. I am here to make sure you are guilty."

Lila bit her nail even harder until the skin of her finger tore open. Blood dripped into Lila’s mouth. The metallic taste along with the stinging sensation immediately woke her from the memory at the restaurant.

Her biting came to a stop. She glanced at her thumb absentmindedly. It continued to ooze blood yet Lila slowly felt numb.

Her blood suddenly reminded her of the scenery in the lotus lake. The scattered pink lotus flowers slowly darkened into a fresh shade of ruby, floating around the body of the young woman. They danced as if in celebration, depicting such a beautiful sight of terror.

"What if she dies?" Lila muttered out of nowhere. No one knew whether the question was a form of worry or... a desire buried deep in her soul.

"You can’t do this! After all, I’m innocent! You can’t just fabricate evidence."

"Are you sure that I even need to fabricate it? From the commotion below, I have a feeling, I don’t need to do much."

Lila had finally lost her patience. Who knew where her courage had come from but in the next moment, she had slammed the table in front of her. Yet, Killian didn’t seem to be affected. He remained composed, dignified as he watched the appearance of the woman in front of him, a complete opposite of him, disheveled and pathetic.

"Don’t forget my identity," Lila warned. Her voice thundered. "You’re just a secretary! Even though Synders is behind you, I’m still the daughter of the Directorate General at the Ministry of Defense. You won’t be able to touch me as you please."

Lila vividly recalled Killian’s expression at that time. His eyes gleamed with an unsettling mix of amusement and disdain. But what truly terrified her was the diabolical arc of his lips.

"You won’t be able to complain to your father."

Lila was stunned. "Are you well? Why can’t I complain?"

"Because if you complain, then I will lodge a complaint too."

"W-What d-do you mean?"

The more fearful Lila appeared, the deeper the devil smiled. "Does your father truly know what kind of person his daughter is?" His voice was soft and steady, yet his question tightened around Lila’s neck like a hangman’s noose.

"W-What...." Her beautiful toes struggled to find their footing.

"Do you really not understand, Lady Lila?" The devil tilted his head in wonder, but a meaningful grin spread across his face.

"No matter how cleverly one hides a corpse, its stench will eventually surface."

As if struck by lightning, Lila’s heart jolted. Her face instantly turned ashen. Her entire being froze in place. Her pupils trembled as she stared at the man in front of her, while her fingers clenched unconsciously, nails scraping the wooden table beneath her with an ear-piercing sound. Yet, she remained motionless, her vacant gaze still locked on Killian.

Killian chuckled without a hint of joy. The sound of his laughter seemed to freeze the air, sending shivers down Lila’s spine as the hair on her neck stood up.

This man was truly an embodiment of a reaper.

A God of Death who had its tight grip on her lifeline.

"What’s wrong? You look so terrified, My Lady," Killian said casually, his expression returning to normal. His hand invited Lila to sit down. "Please, do sit down, Lady Lila."

Lila pressed her lips into a thin line. She wanted to refuse and immediately ran away from this room, but Kilian’s watchful eyes remained fixed on her. In the end, she had no choice but to obey.

Seeing Lila sat back down and her head lowered, Killian opened his mouth to ’comfort’. "There’s nothing to be afraid of, Lady Lila."

Hearing that, Lila spontaneously looked up. She frowned with a confused look. Hadn’t this man been threatening her all this time? Why did his tone suddenly sound as if he was open to negotiation?

"I chose you and right now, you are still needed," Killian explained, linking his fingers on the table.

Lila was getting more and more confused, but Killian didn’t explain further. The man stood up from his seat and walked towards the door.

"W-Wait! Please, tell me w-what do you mean by that?" Lila could barely find her voice. She felt as though a lump had stuck in her throat.

Killian paused just when his hand landed on the door’s handle. He turned half of his body and responded, "That is for me to know and for you to play your role well."

Lila was struck dumb. Afterwards, he turned back and without looking at her, he continued, "I won’t use force or threats because that wouldn’t be fun anymore. But I hope you’ll be careful in taking the next step. Choose wisely, Miss Lila."

Thereafter, Killian disappeared behind the door. In that instance, the sound of the closed door in her memory woke Lila from her train of thoughts. Her gaze was down, empty and almost lifeless.

At that moment, she heard the roar of a car engine outside followed by the sound of a horn. Lila raised her head and turned to the floor-to-ceiling window in her bedroom. It was late into the night but it wasn’t unusual for his father to have just returned.

And at this time, she was usually dressed in her sleepwear, feeling clean and refreshed, ready to leap out of bed and rush downstairs. But today, her feet remained rooted to the spot, even as her father called her name from the first floor.

"Lila, my child!" The voice echoed through the mansion. He sounded tired but full of affection.

Affection for her alone, the only daughter of the Greyson family. Yes, the only one...

Lila walked towards the door with a pair of empty eyes akin to a marionette. A decision slowly formed in her heart.

At the same time, on the VIP floor of Royal Mandala Hospital, a flicker of movement stirred beneath Kyra’s closed eyelids. Amid the steady beeping of the machines, one finger twitched briefly, and it was greeted by a large hand with a slightly rough palm and calloused fingers.

The hand held Kyra’s dainty one ever so gently, just like the voice he used to call the young woman.

"Kyra..."

And like magic whispered at the stroke of midnight, the woman’s eyelids slowly opened.