“Prepare ourselves mentally?” Paige asked in confusion.
Butler Beau said nothing further and turned to lead the way.
Paige helped Enrico into a coat, and the two boarded the estate’s golf cart, driving deep into the property. The chilly breeze blew as Enrico held her tightly in his arms.
The estate’s nighttime scenery was vastly different from the daytime, exuding an elegant, otherworldly beauty. Every light was meticulously placed, creating a consistent style. Paige thought to herself that this must have been Annie’s design. She did it so well that even when Jeremy remarried, he couldn’t make any changes. After all, any alterations would have made the estate worse.
The cart stopped near the hot spring pavilion, at the pile of scattered rocks.
Here again.
Paige frowned, glancing at Enrico. His face was grim, clearly not expecting this place to have any hidden stories.
Butler Beau, slightly trembling, glanced at the two before stepping down from the cart. He moved a large rock with some effort, revealing a narrow passage that only one person could pass through at a time. Typically, it was completely hidden by the rocks.
Enrico held Paige’s hand as they walked through the passage. At the end, there was a small door with no keyhole.
Butler Beau took several battery-powered lanterns from a nearby stone wall, turned them on, and opened the small door. “Master, madam, this is it. There are no lights inside, so it may be a bit dark. Please watch your step,” he said.
With that, Butler Beau walked inside, lantern in hand.
Paige and Enrico followed, stepping into a small, dimly lit room. It was clearly a storage space, with items piled up haphazardly. A bookshelf lay tilted on the floor, and weeds had sprouted in the corners.
Paige finally understood why Butler Beau had mentioned being mentally prepared. The place was a wreck. Shards of broken vases were scattered everywhere, with barely any space to walk. Wilted flowers had turned to dust, and torn book pages were strewn about. The tablecloth on a nearby cabinet had yellowed, and the air carried the scent of decay.
“What happened here?” Enrico’s expression turned dark as he glared at Butler Beau.
Beau, visibly nervous, lowered his head. “When you ordered this place to be demolished, Master Jeremy secretly moved Mrs. Davis’s belongings here. He… he would often come here in secret.”
Paige understood. “He came here to vent his anger?”
He directed all his rage over being overthrown by his son toward Annie’s possessions.
“… Yes,” Butler Beau admitted, bowing his head even lower.
Paige saw Enrico clench his fists tightly, his breathing growing heavier as his eyes scanned the mess around them. Over the years, he had restrained himself time and time again, while his father had hurt him over and over.
He gritted his teeth, a flash of murderous intent in his eyes, which he quickly suppressed. His voice was deep as he spoke. “Go wake Jeremy up. Don’t let him sleep, and make sure he stays awake for three days and nights.”
He’d had enough.
Not killing Jeremy was his last boundary.
“…”
Butler Beau was stunned, raising his head in disbelief.
“Still here?” Paige asked coldly, looking at him.
“Yes, madam.” Beau left the room quickly.
The cramped storage space was now empty except for Paige and Enrico. Paige noticed a dusty teacup on an antique cabinet. The craftsmanship was exquisite, with delicate engravings and layered colors, elegant yet majestic.
Everything here bore Annie’s imprint, even the teacup. It might have even been made by Annie herself.
Paige had no doubt about her talents.
“I never knew this place existed,” Enrico muttered, kicking a piece of broken vase aside, his face grim.
Paige picked up the teacup, then noticed several rolled-up sheets of paper underneath it. She unrolled them to reveal detailed architectural plans of the estate, breathtaking in their intricacy. Annie’s signature was at the bottom right, a blend of grace and decisiveness.
She set the plans aside and opened a drawer, finding several neatly stored photo albums.
The albums were well-preserved. Paige opened one, unlocking a box of memories. This was a record of Enrico’s sister, Fawn Gustin, growing up.
“…”
She glanced at Enrico with a complicated expression.
Enrico looked over as well.
The first picture in the album was of a newborn baby girl. A pale yet beautiful woman lay on a hospital bed, smiling at the camera. Her eyes were a deep gray, and a handsome man sat beside her, his arm around her shoulder. He wasn’t looking at the camera or the child, but instead, gazing lovingly at the woman.
In the photos, Annie and Jeremy both had sharp, youthful features.
Paige realized that Enrico had inherited the best of both parents in terms of looks, his features even more striking and captivating.
Enrico stood silently by her side as Paige flipped through the pages. The little girl in the pictures grew older with each turn, always smiling happily in front of the camera. Wherever Annie was, Jeremy was there too, his gaze always fixed on her.
It looked like the perfect, happy family.
A family filled with deception and lies. And the man standing next to her had never even experienced such a false happiness.
Paige glanced at Enrico. He stood there expressionless, looking at the photos as if they were of strangers.
She couldn’t help but say, “Your mother, with all her brilliance, still suffered such a tragic fate in love.”
If Annie hadn’t married Jeremy, she wouldn’t have ended up like this.
Enrico scoffed mockingly. “Because love, unlike intelligence, can be faked.”
Acting.
Perhaps the ability to act ran deep in his veins. Just earlier tonight, he had been scheming about keeping Paige from sleeping in a separate bed, while she believed him without question. Suddenly, he felt disgusted with himself.
“He acted for so many years-does he see himself as some kind of actor of the year?”
After so many moments and memories, most people would have gotten lost in the act. Yet Jeremy remained clear-headed enough to drive Annie mad.
Paige closed the album. “We can take our time sorting through all of this. Let’s see if we can find the garden plans. I didn’t spot them in the earlier documents.”
“Alright,” Enrico nodded, kicking aside the mess on the floor as he lifted the fallen bookshelf back against the wall.
Books were scattered everywhere.
Paige looked down at them. Annie’s interests were broad, with books from both Eastern and Western cultures. Many were rare copies that Paige remembered searching for at Memory Art Gallery without success.
She knelt down to pick up one book, dusting it off before returning it to the shelf. Then she reached for another.
It had no title.
The cover was a rich brown leather, with a fine texture.
Paige opened it for a glance and quickly closed it again.