Chapter 249/The Mother Who Never Died

Chapter 249: 249/The Mother Who Never Died

Chapter 249

Stephanie’s POV

The heavy door clicked shut with a faint, rusting groan, settling a suffocating silence over the dimly lit bedroom. My eyes snapped open all at once. I sat bolt upright, gasping for air, my fingers clawing violently into the duvet to kill the tremors racking my body.

I scrambled out of bed and stood in the middle of the room, my eyes darting frantically between the dark shadows. What are they doing? Where are they going?

Moving with slow, calculated precision, I crept toward the closet, grabbed a pair of soft, rubber-soled sneakers, and bent down to tie them tight. Silent movement was mandatory. I snatched my leather shoulder bag off the wooden chair and slung it over my shoulder, my freezing fingers digging inside to check the contents... my phone and car keys. The icy bite of the metal key fob offered a flicker of grounding logic I had an exit strategy if everything went to hell.

I glided toward the front window and eased back the edge of the heavy drape with two fingers. Yellow floodlights pooled over the driveway. Alexander and Cédric strode hurriedly toward the sleek black sedan. Doors slammed shut with a muffled, heavy thud. The car rolled down the drive as the steel gates parted, swallowing them into the pitch-black night.

I held my breath, a vicious knot of confusion eating through my chest. If they’re leaving the estate entirely... why did Alexander need to drug me? What am I not supposed to see inside this house?

I pulled back from the window, my palm gripping the wooden doorknob. I turned it painfully slow, killing any potential click of the latch. Slipping out into the shadowed corridor, I picked my way down the staircase, landing weight on the balls of my feet before lowering my heels to keep the hardwood from groaning.

When I reached the ground floor, the main foyer was draped in complete darkness, save for a pale sliver of light bleeding from the far end of the back hallway. My eyes scanned the shadows, locking immediately onto the massive wooden door leading to the basement. It was standing ajar. A narrow beam of light cut across the cold marble floor.

Holding my breath, I fell into a slow, measured stride toward the passage. I reached the open door and nudged it with the flat of my hand. It glided back silently, revealing a steep flight of cold stone steps descending into the dark.

I picked my way down one step at a time, hugging the wall. The rich, sharp scent of aged wine filled my nose with every breath. At the bottom of the landing, my feet implicitly carried me toward the wide wall dominated by that massive oil painting the one that had spiked my curiosity weeks ago.

I froze dead in my tracks. The blood drained completely from my face.

The painting wasn’t there.

It had been shifted to the side, exposing a wide wall cavity and a heavy iron door left wide open.

My eyes glued themselves to the dark threshold framed by the secret entryway, and the threads instantly stitched together in my mind with horrifying clarity. The maid... her terrified glances, her relentless threats, her constant demands for Alexander’s golden key... She wasn’t after jewelry. She was trying to get through this exact door.

I crept through the narrow stone passage. Harsh white light poured down from recessed ceiling fixtures like a surgeon’s lamp, stinging my eyes. The air grew dense, thick with the chemical bite of antiseptics and medical dressings that coated the back of my throat with a bitter, metallic tang. I pressed my back flat against the damp wall, minimizing every movement, and carefully peeked around the frame.

Grandfather Victor stood beside a wide medical bed, flanked by a vital signs monitor that emitted intermittent, silent pulses of light. A frail, paper-thin silhouette lay beneath the white sheets, her features hidden in the shadow. The old man took a step to the side, and the reality struck me like a physical blow.

A woman with deathly pale skin. Long blonde hair spilled around her motionless head, her eyes closed in a sunken, hollow sleep.

I stood paralyzed, clapping both hands over my mouth to smother the scream clawing up my throat.

Samantha. Alexander and Cédric’s mother. The vintage oil portrait that had fallen from Alexander’s coat... the woman he had spoken of with a fractured voice, swearing she had passed away years ago... was right here. Drowned in an eternal coma in the depths of this basement.

The old man bent over the bed. His trembling palm brushed across her icy cheek, his voice a low, raspy whisper soaked in decades of obsession.

"My sweet Samantha... all these years, and you still haven’t opened your eyes. I miss you so much..."

He leaned down further, pressing his mouth to hers, murmuring against her cold lips, "I never forgot you... I will always love you, my darling."

Grandfather Victor and their mother... lovers? The fragile domestic image shattered in my mind like glass hitting asphalt.

Before I could take a step back, the muffled cadence of heavy, fast footsteps echoed down the stone stairwell. Terror seized my chest. I darted into the darkness of an open side room, the blood freezing solid in my veins.

Hiding in the shadows, my entire body vibrated with adrenaline as Alexander’s deep voice cut through the quiet corridor.

"Grandfather, we brought Valentina... She’ll be ready in minutes."

My heart skipped a beat. Valentina?

Cédric’s sharp, impatient voice followed immediately. "She’s heavily sedated. The drug will last for hours... we’re going to have our fun with her tonight."

A sinister silence fell over the hallway, broken only by heavy breathing and the drag of metal furniture. Minutes stretched into an eternity until low, sickening sounds began to echo—noises no sane mind could process. Gathering the last fragments of my sanity, I slid out of the dark room, dragging my shoulder along the wall.

I stole another look into the main bay... and the floor gave way beneath me.

Grandfather Victor was completely naked, positioned over Samantha’s bare, motionless body, taking her like a corpse. Across from them on the cold concrete floor lay Valentina her clothes torn to shreds, limp and unmoving as Alexander and Cédric took turns driving into her unconscious body with raw, merciless cruelty.

Silent tears spilled down my face. My limbs turned to stone, as if the universe had pulled the plug on reality itself.

Alexander pulled back slowly, his chest heaving, letting out a dark, sadistic sigh. "God, I love fucking women when they look like corpses..."

Cédric let out a dry, breathy laugh. "Me too..."