The Grand Hall was still lively, but the energy had started to fade. Some of the guests were slouched in their chairs, their glasses empty, while others chatted quietly, their earlier enthusiasm dimming as the night stretched on.
Raphael entered the hall, his steps brisk but calm, masking the storm of frustration and worry brewing inside him. He scanned the room, his sharp eyes taking in the remaining guests and the brothel girls who lingered nearby.
One of the guests, a middle-aged man with a rosy face from too much wine, raised his glass when he saw Raphael. “Ah, Raphael! You’re back!” he called out, his voice cheerful. “Where’s Damian? Still busy?”
Raphael forced a polite smile, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Damian sends his regards,” he said smoothly. “But he won’t be joining us again tonight.”
There were a few murmurs among the guests, some exchanging curious glances. Another man, younger and bolder, chuckled. “Still working, is he? That man doesn’t know how to relax!”
Raphael’s smile tightened, his patience wearing thin. “That’s why he has me,” he said lightly, though his tone held a hint of finality. “And now, since it’s almost morning, I think it’s time we wrapped things up.”
The room grew quiet for a moment as the guests absorbed his words. Then one of the women, a sharp-eyed business partner, spoke up. “The party’s over?” she asked, her tone surprised.
“Yes,” Raphael said firmly. “You’ve all had a long night, and I’m sure you’re eager to get some rest.”
There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement. The older gentleman who had asked about Damian earlier raised his glass one last time. “Well, it’s been a fine evening,” he said warmly. “Thank you for hosting us, Raphael. Please send my regards to Damian.”
“Of course,” Raphael replied, inclining his head politely.
The guests began to rise from their seats, some stretching and yawning as they prepared to leave. The brothel girls quietly gathered in a corner, waiting for instructions from Madam Catherine.
Raphael stayed by the door, watching as the guests made their way out one by one. He exchanged polite nods and handshakes, his charm still intact despite his growing exhaustion.
“Goodnight,” he said to each departing guest. “Safe travels.”
By the time the last guest stepped outside, the hall was almost silent. Raphael let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Finally,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Meanwhile, in her room, Lina was pacing back and forth, her mind racing with questions and doubts. Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she chewed on her thumbnail, a habit she usually tried to hide.
“What went wrong?” she whispered to herself, her voice shaky.
She paused near the window, staring out at the fading darkness. The party was ending, but her plan felt incomplete. Damian should have been fully under the influence of the drug by now, yet Raphael had come barging into her room instead.
“Did Raphael see something?” she muttered, her brows furrowing. “Did he see me talking to the maid?”
Lina shook her head quickly, trying to dismiss the thought. “No, he couldn’t have,” she told herself. “I was careful. No one was watching.”
But doubt crept into her mind, making her stomach twist. Raphael’s anger, his accusations-it was almost as if he knew something.
“Or was he just trying to scare me?” Lina said aloud, her voice trembling.
She sat down on the edge of her bed, gripping the sheets tightly in her fists. Her heart pounded as she replayed the night’s events in her mind, searching for anything she might have overlooked.
“What if the maid talked?” Lina whispered, her eyes widening.
She shook her head again, trying to calm herself. “No, she wouldn’t. She didn’t know anything. She just did what I told her to do.”
But the image of the maid drinking the poisoned wine flashed in Lina’s mind, and her chest tightened with fear.
“What if she survives?” Lina said, her voice barely audible. “What if she tells someone?”
She buried her face in her hands, her thoughts spiraling out of control.
“I should’ve been more careful,” Lina muttered, her voice muffled. “I should’ve made sure Damian drank the entire glass. I should’ve… I should’ve…”
Her words trailed off as a new thought struck her. “What if Raphael wasn’t bluffing?” she said, sitting up suddenly. “What if he knows?”
Lina’s breathing quickened as panic gripped her. “No, no, no,” she whispered, shaking her head. “He can’t know. He’s just guessing. He’s trying to scare me, that’s all.”
But deep down, a small voice in her mind whispered that Raphael might not be guessing at all.
She stood up abruptly, her hands trembling as she paced the room again. “I need to think,” Lina said, her voice shaky. “I need to figure this out.”
Her gaze fell on the empty glass sitting on her vanity. She picked it up, staring at the faint red stain at the bottom.
“This was supposed to be perfect,” she muttered angrily, her grip tightening on the glass. “Everything was supposed to go as planned.”
Lina’s thoughts turned back to Damian. “He must’ve drunk enough,” she said, trying to convince herself. “The drug must’ve worked. He just… he just didn’t…”
Her voice faltered as uncertainty crept in again. “What if he’s stronger than I thought?” Lina said quietly.
She set the glass down with a loud clink and rubbed her temples, trying to steady her racing thoughts.
“Calm down,” she whispered to herself. “Don’t panic. Nobody knows anything.”
But the nagging doubt wouldn’t leave her. Raphael’s furious expression, the way he had stormed into her room-it was all too fresh in her mind.
Lina sank onto the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I can’t let this fall apart,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to think clearly. “If Raphael knows something, I’ll deal with him,” she said quietly. “But first, I need to find out what he really knows.”
Her eyes narrowed as determination replaced her fear. “This isn’t over,” Lina whispered, her lips curling into a small, cold smile.