Chapter 127/Strange sound

Chapter 127: 127/Strange sound

Chapter 127

Stephanie’s Point of View

The handle rotated with extreme slowness between my trembling, sweat-slicked fingers, and the wooden door opened with a faint creak to reveal stone stairs extending deeply into the darkness below. Swallowing with immense difficulty, I pressed my cold palm against the concrete wall to support my depleted, staggering frame, then took my initial steps and initiated my descent with lethal caution.

The basement was not dark, pitch-black, or ancient and desolate as I had previously imagined; rather, it appeared like a luxurious, hidden sanctuary with meticulously illuminated lights and walls painted a clean white that entirely repelled any suspicion of danger.

When my trembling feet reached the termination of the extended staircase, my eyes widened in absolute bewilderment, thoroughly surprised by a gargantuan space resembling a hall. Within its perimeter extended massive wooden shelves crafted from black oak, packed with thousands of rare, vintage wine bottles.

The concentrated, potent scent of the aged space was intense enough to intoxicate your senses and capture your fragile consciousness without a single drop ever touching your lips. I began walking with slow, exceptionally short steps through those tightly packed shelves that formed a labyrinth, my eyes devouring the details with watchful caution as I desperately tried to uncover any evidence or anomaly that might expose the true nature of my men. However, I initially detected nothing tangible to stir suspicion within the space.

Then suddenly, and without a single shred of warning, my gaze tripped over a bleak, melancholy painting hanging completely isolated on the white wall, far away from the storage shelves. Its crude strangeness immediately seized my focus; it was a desolate, dark artwork depicting a woman clad in a white gown stained heavily with black residue.

Her long brown hair completely obscured her features, and she was hung by her neck with a thick rope from the branch of a massive, dead tree entirely devoid of leaves. A violent, icy shudder instantly rippled down my spine, my breath fragmenting with an overwhelming terror at the raw brutality and symbolism of the image.

Drawing closer to the canvas with stiff limbs like a magnet, I extended my hand in an involuntary movement to track its rough surface with weak fingers, when suddenly... I detected a mysterious, faint, and muffled vibration, resembling a human groan or a choked rattle emerging obscurely from behind the very wall supporting the canvas!

That terrifying vocal murmur thoroughly shattered my composure, my frame convulsing with a sharp, frantic panic as I executed a violent, rapid, and uncoordinated retreat backward. Due to my compromised balance and the localized pain inside my pelvis, I collided heavily with one of the gargantuan wine shelves behind me.

The massive rack shook violently, and several premium bottles of red wine plunged to the floor, shattering instantly and scattering sharp glass fragments in every direction. The deep crimson liquid spilled abundantly across the premium rug like the fresh blood of a casualty, the impact producing a loud, sharp, and echoing crash that thoroughly violated the absolute silence of the room.

My breath rose and fell in frantic, shallow gasps, my body convulsing with tremors. Merely a few moments later, as swift as a flash of lightning, Grandfather Victor descended the stairs with his signature rigid, unyielding features, followed immediately by the housemaid whose face was completely pale with alarm as they investigated the source of the commotion.

They stared with genuine shock at the total chaos and destruction I had manufactured, before Grandfather Victor locked his sharp, hawk-like eyes onto my frame with a terrifying reproach, stating in a demanding tone that pierced the silence: "Stephanie... what exactly are you doing down here?"

I desperately fought to suppress the frantic trembling of my hands and my wretched voice, completely helpless to extract a logical, convincing excuse from my scattered thoughts to rescue myself from this predicament. Lowering my gaze in intense embarrassment and terror toward the wine-stained floor, I stated in a weak, muffled whisper: "I merely... I merely desired to view the basement and explore its layout, Grandfather. I absolutely did not intend to manufacture this chaos."

The lines of his face shifted with a slight apprehension, his eyes tracking over my trembling frame as he stated with concern: "Were you compromised by the glass fragments? Did any harm come to your person?"

Looking at his features with intense anxiety, the pulse hammering violently against my neck, I rapidly offered a denial: "No... do not worry, nothing harmed my person. I am completely fine."

He gave a firm nod of assent, taking a decisive step backward as he delivered a command in an authoritative rumble that brooked absolutely no debate: "Let us ascend to the upper level this absolute instant. The maid will manage the extraction of this shattered debris."

The lower depth of my stomach clenched with intense shame and constriction due to my childish behavior, and I stated in a broken, apologetic whisper: "I am deeply sorry for this chaos that I have manufactured."

He stated with a dry composure: "It is of no consequence... merely exercise caution."

We reascended the stone stairs with heavy paces, and the absolute second our feet crossed the threshold of the vast main salon, he turned his massive frame around and anchored his strict, unyielding gaze straight into the depths of my eyes, stating with severe firmness: "Stephanie... do not ever descend into that basement again under any circumstances whatsoever. Is that perfectly understood?"

I knitted my brows with intense apprehension and suspicion, my breathing turning uneven as I inquired with an activated curiosity: "Is there a specific problem regarding that basement, Grandfather?"

He shot me a mysterious, freezing, and profound look that completely withheld any interior details, stating with flat detachment: "Absolutely nothing at all. I simply do not desire for your person to be compromised or suffer a fall while you are carrying the twin babies. For that explicit reason, do not return downstairs."

I gave a submissive nod of obedience despite my frantic, doubting heartbeat, stating: "Very well, Grandfather... I will not."

Grandfather Victor turned around and departed toward his locked private study, yet the dark suspicions rapidly multiplied and nested inside my consciousness in a terrifying manner, the fearful pulse inside my skull doubling. I was already completely and undeniably certain that I had detected an unnatural sound... a genuine, suffocating human voice emerging from directly behind the wall supporting that wretched painting of the hanged woman!

Suddenly, and without a single shred of warning, the loud, aggressive ringing of the front doorbell abruptly shattered my terrified absorption. The maid rapidly advanced to open the heavy door to identify the visitor, my gaze instantly locking as a massive wave of hope flooded my chest upon seeing Kira. A sweeping, profound relief washed through my suffocating chest, as though a divine lifeline had materialized to drag my soul out of its living hell.

Advancing toward her frame, I wrapped my arms around her with a desperate, crushing intensity as if I were clawing onto survival itself through her body, stating: "Welcome, Kira."

She returned my embrace with a light, warm affection, stating with a calm smile: "Thank you, Steph... I deeply missed your presence."

Stepping back, I seized her hand, stating with absolute haste: "Come inside the estate immediately."

We slowly transitioned into the depth of the grand salon, and looking at the suffocating atmosphere contained within the walls, I stated in an attempt to breathe and escape: "What is your opinion on sitting in the outer garden? The atmosphere out there is significantly better."

She gave a firm nod, stating with visible comfort: "That would genuinely be fantastic. I adore the garden."

We directed our paces toward the sun-drenched outer garden which was packed with lush greenery, sinking onto the plush velvet sofa positioned directly before the swimming pool where the water vibrated with light reflections. Turning my frame toward her, I drove my trembling fingers firmly into my knees with intense tension and a profound fear of her harsh judgment. I stated in an exceptionally low, fractured whisper that was barely audible: "Kira... I already comprehend that I previously gave you a firm vow that I would absolutely never fuck Cedric and Alexander again, and that I would never submit to their touch."

Kira’s features instantly locked with genuine shock, her pupils widening in absolute bewilderment as she stared at my frame with a mixture of alarm and mounting rage, shouting: "Do not tell me, for heaven’s sake, that you have already fucked either of them and violated your solemn vow this rapidly!"

Swallowing the bitter, throbbing lump trapped in my throat, I stated: "In fact... I have fucked both of them, Kira. I have completely submitted to both men."

Kira’s entire frame violently jolted in her seat, her brows knitting together with extreme agitation as she screamed directly into my face in total disbelief: "Steph... have you genuinely lost your mind and resolved to systematically annihilate your own existence?! How could you possibly execute such an act?!"

Clawing my sweat-slicked fingers into her hand with deep humiliation and pleading, begging her to comprehend my reality and not abandon my person to isolation, I stated in a weeping whisper, my breath ragged and breathless: "Kira... I turn completely weak, entirely helpless and paralyzed before their presence, their raw lust, and their sadism! I am completely incapable of controlling my person, my body, or my desires the absolute second they close the distance to my frame!"

Her friendly gaze completely transformed into an unyielding, extreme harshness, her words cutting through the air like sharp knives that instantly froze the blood in my veins as she delivered a reproach that spared absolutely no pride: "Do you genuinely desire to transform into a cheap whore, Stephanie? You cannot possibly fuck two brothers simultaneously!"

My body turned completely rigid like a stone statue beneath the weight of her insulting, brutal words. Yet, my burning desire, my total submission, and my absolute helplessness had already asserted total dominion over my defeated mind. I stated with a bitter stubbornness, a profound agony, and a dead tone entirely devoid of soul: "If my status as a whore means systematically fucking both of them and submitting to their blistering fire... then I completely accept that reality."

Kira struck her palms together in bitter grief, shaking her head with rapid disbelief as a lethal disappointment etched across her features, stating: "You have genuinely gone insane and lost your absolute sanity, Stephanie! Because what you are currently executing upon your own person reflects absolutely nothing of who you are; you were never this creature in the past!"

Before I could move my trembling lips to offer an answer or defend my position before her judgment, the maid’s rapid paces advanced into the garden, her calm voice abruptly shattering the dispute: "Madame Stephanie... apologies for the interruption, but you possess a guest waiting in the main salon."

My brows knitted together with intense disruption, a sudden jolt racking my frame as I questioned her with cautious, apprehensive breaths: "A guest? And who exactly is this guest arriving at this specific hour?"

Suddenly, I did not have to wait for the maid’s response or her explanation. My eyes locked onto the wretched visitor aggressively invading the garden pathway leading straight to our position, advancing with a mocking, swaying stride and an insolence that was maddeningly confident... It was Valentina!

Her malicious, cunning eyes anchored firmly onto my features, a cold smirk etching across her lips which were painted in a striking, violent crimson as she delivered a statement dripping with pure venom and wretched malice:

"My beloved sister, Stephanie... did you not deeply miss the sight of my face?"