No... no...!
The vivid image of her husband being intimate with another woman shattered Evelyn's composure entirely. "Eve, you must calm down," Paul urged, trying to steady his cousin.
"Paul, you can't just stand there! Do something! Don't let them spend the night together!" Evelyn's voice was a frantic whisper, her eyes wide with desperation. "He is mine..."
"Eve, control yourself."
"How can I be calm?! You are not in my position! You don't know this terror of losing him! I cannot bear for him to be lured away, especially not by a younger, legal wife, Paul! What if every night he lies with her while I just wait for his summons?!"
Paul stared at her intently, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. Evelyn fell silent, her own feelings a turbulent mix. She looked at him with a disappointed glare. "This is no time for tragic sentiments. What I need is a way to ensure my husband does nothing with that wretch tonight, or any night!"
Paul let out a resigned sigh. "Very well. Maid!" he called out.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Find Mr. Gabriel. Inform him that Madam Evelyn has been taken by a sudden, severe fever. Her condition is alarming, and her husband must come to her immediately."
"At once, Sir."
---
The door to Evelyn's chamber was flung open with a single, powerful motion. Gabriel stood there, his face etched with a concern that filled the luxurious room. He saw Evelyn lying in her vast bed, her complexion artfully pale, appearing genuinely unwell.
Evelyn's hand stretched toward him weakly, her face a masterpiece of pathetic appeal. "My husband... you came," she breathed, her voice a fragile, sugary whisper.
Paul discreetly moved aside, giving the couple space, positioning himself silently near the wall.
Instead of immediately taking her hand, Gabriel's fingers moved to gently stroke Evelyn's long, honey-blonde hair—a habitual gesture, his favorite way of touching the meticulously maintained locks.
"The maid said you have a fever. What did the physician say?" Gabriel asked, his voice uncharacteristically attentive.
Evelyn's heart, as always, warmed at his softness. The man dubbed heartless was always tender with her. The woman in the seductive black nightgown offered a weak smile and shook her head.
"There is no need for a doctor. Paul gave me medicine earlier."
"Alright. But what brought this on?"
"I'm not sure, my love. Perhaps it is merely a symptom of the anxiety I've felt lately." Evelyn sighed, a delicate, performative sound.
Gabriel's brow furrowed. His dark eyes studied her with focused intensity. "What has you so anxious?"
Evelyn did not answer directly. Instead, she cast a meaningful glance toward Paul, who understood instantly. He bowed and slipped from the room without a sound, closing the door softly behind him.
Evelyn then allowed her lip to tremble into a slight pout. "You know, my husband brought his new wife into this house. It has made me... uncomfortable. And I am... jealous."
"Nonsense. What is there to fear? I still need you," Gabriel stated, his tone matter-of-fact.
Evelyn's smile froze. Those were not the words she longed to hear. She wanted to hear that he loved her, as she loved him. A sheen of hurt glossed her eyes. "Gabriel, say you love me."
His eyebrows drew together, a flicker of displeasure crossing his features. Evelyn knew the character of Gabriel Kingsley well. Her husband was not a man of sweet words or romantic proclamations; even the servants whispered he had never spoken the word "love" to his late beloved, Valerie. Evelyn had built an immunity, convincing herself that Gabriel's cold, practical devotion—his pampering, his gifts, his protection—was his unique language of love. It had been enough. Until now. The new wife's presence was a crack in that fragile foundation, flooding her with a fresh, corrosive anxiety.
Gabriel, shrewd as ever, understood the subtext of her fear. "What exactly worries you? Do you want me to put a bullet in her head right now?"
Evelyn's heart leaped with a perverse, triumphant joy. See? He would eliminate Marsha for her sake. What did she have left to fear?
"No, my love, don't," she pleaded, her face a mask of merciful concern that belied her inner elation. "Do not be so cruel, I beg you." She would not let Gabriel dispose of Marsha too easily, not after that woman dared to spread rumors. Evelyn was impatient to meet her, to demonstrate the vast gulf in their status within this mansion and in Gabriel's heart.
"My husband... you will stay here with me tonight, won't you?"
---
In Seraphina's chamber...
Giel had just finished putting away the first-aid kit. He had been nearly asleep when the commotion drew him back, concerned to find Seraphina injured.
"Madam, are you certain the wound will not become infected if treated so simply?" Giel asked, his voice laced with professional worry.
"It will be fine," Seraphina replied, her calm unbroken. Giel was perplexed; the new mistress seemed to possess an almost supernatural emotional regulation.
"Tomorrow, I will have my family send the specific medicines I am accustomed to using," she added casually.
Giel nearly choked on his own breath. Her family?
Just then, Calina burst into the room without knocking. "Calina! For heaven's sake, knock first!" Giel hissed, exasperated.
Calina grimaced, immediately bowing in apology to Seraphina. "Forgive me, Madam. I was... overcome."
Giel had sent Calina to prepare a soothing, warm drink for Seraphina, hoping to settle her nerves after the attack by her own husband. Seraphina, however, showed little reaction. She was preoccupied with a tablet in her hands, leaning lazily against the plush headboard of her large bed.
"What has you in such a state?" Giel was the one to ask, as Seraphina displayed no curiosity.
"Tonight... Mr. Gabriel is spending the night in Madam Evelyn's quarters!"
Giel released a long, weary sigh. "That is hardly surprising news. Why the panic?"
Calina offered a sheepish grin, realizing Giel had warned her of this very possibility. "My apologies. I suppose I am still adjusting to the... dynamics."
Seraphina glanced at Giel for a fleeting second before returning her gaze to the tablet's glow. "I heard she fell ill. Is that woman often sickly?"
Giel pressed his lips together, considering. "Not to my recollection, Madam. Mr. Gabriel has always been exceedingly attentive to Madam Evelyn's health. He retains a personal physician to monitor her, provide vitamins, and so forth."
"I see," Seraphina murmured, her tone neutral.
Calina, unable to contain herself, leaned in and whispered, "Could it be that Evelyn just pretended to be sick? To stop Mr. Gabriel from spending the night with you, Madam?"
Giel shot her a warning glare. "Calina, mind your tongue!" Even if he privately agreed with the suspicion, voicing it was dangerous. "What if someone heard you?"
"No one will have. It is just the three of us here," Calina retorted.
Seraphina did not verbally respond again. However, the steady movement of her index finger scrolling across the tablet screen paused for a telling moment. In the dim light, her expression remained an enigma, but her mind was clearly processing this new piece of information, filing it away alongside the others in her rapidly forming assessment of the battlefield she now inhabited.