The Savior and Hope    

In the next couple of days, I was busy devising plan after plan to make the old man notice me. The primary item on my list was . . . his dog, Sebastian.

 

Sebastian was a Golden Retriever — an old Golden Retriever. If I was right, Sebastian was already ten years old.

 

Now, don't get me wrong. Sinclair wasn't the sentimental type or the dog lover type. Sebastian was merely the dog that his beloved wife had gifted him before she passed away.

 

Despite his aloof nature, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that, between his family and anyone else, Sinclair would definitely save Sebastian first.

 

Six months before I was cast away, I heard that Sebastian was already dying. He had been diagnosed late with cancer.

 

Apparently, dogs developed cancers too — many types, in fact.

 

Sebastian, of course, like all other pampered pups, had his monthly checkups. However, these checkups weren't thorough, full-body examinations. And like many cancers, the symptoms didn't show until it was too late.

 

I bit my thumb, deep in thought. I didn't know if six months would be enough to save the dog, but it was the only plan that came to mind to grant me an audience with grandfather.

 

Besides, telling Sinclair that Sebastian would die would surely get his notice.

 

I didn't waste any more time and went straight to the garage.

 

"My lady, where are you going?" Sophie asked, her voice laced with concern.

 

I rushed past her in a hurry, but the persistent woman wouldn't just leave me alone.

 

"My Lady, you still have private lessons later. Madam will punish you again if you don't attend them."

 

"Fuck off!" I bristled, my frustration bubbling over.

 

Sophie was stunned at my outburst and immediately let go of my hand.

 

I then sweetly smiled at her, attempting to soften the harshness of my earlier words. "Go and attend those lectures for me. You don't really need me to be there."

 

Sophie's face was both stunned and confused. As much as I wanted to relish the sight of her stupid expression, I had to go.

 

My life was on the line here, so forgive me if I don't act the way she wanted.

 

At this point, I really didn't care if they thought I was strange. The polite, well-mannered lady from the first son of Rosette was acting like a woman from the gutters.

 

What's etiquette in the face of death?

 

I zoomed to my car and, without waiting for the driver, started the engine and headed to the main house where Sinclair was staying.

 

If my plan wouldn't get me an audience with the old man, then . . .

 

. . . I really had nothing. My brain was a piece of garbage right now.

 

I really hope this plan would work!

 

 

 

=== 🤍 ===

 

 

 

Sophie was baffled by how Eve had been behaving the past few days. She was always hostile towards her, but never openly so.

 

Eve would always keep her feelings to herself and maintain appearances in front of her parents and the public, something she relished over.

 

Eve's agony and frustration that she couldn't show were among Sophie's many delights in this world.

 

After all, Eve was enjoying the life that was supposed to be hers.

 

Sophie knocked on the door of Madame Sophia's study.

 

"Come in," came the soft, authoritative voice from within.

 

Sophie took a deep breath and entered, closing the door gently behind her. The room was filled with the scent of polished wood and the faint aroma of jasmine, a testament to Madame Sophia's refined tastes.

 

Sophie's nerves tingled as she approached the desk, where her mother sat, her eyes focused on a stack of documents.

 

"Madame Sophia, I need to speak with you about Eve," Sophie began, her voice steady despite her disgust of the formal word.

 

She was her mother, but she couldn't address her as such.

 

Sophia looked up, her piercing gaze settling on her staff, and instructed them to leave the room.

 

Once they were alone, Sophie immediately flew into her mother's embrace and complained her heart out. "That bitch has been infuriating! Mother, I can't stand her anymore! She's not the real child, but seeing her act like she is drives me insane! I can't wait any longer, Mother! Can you talk to Father?"

 

Sophia gently rubbed her hair and explained slowly, "Patience, darling. Only six more months, and all of this will be yours. That child will no longer be here by then, and she won't bother you anymore."

 

"Why can't we just get rid of all my relatives to minimize the threat?"

 

"You know we can't do that. Family business like ours requires subtlety, or it could ruin us. We don't fight publicly, darling; I thought you already knew that. Besides, it's not only our relatives you should worry about. The whole world wants what's ours, and we need to protect it. You are your father's and my precious jewel, and we don't want to take any risks with your safety."

 

Sophie rested her head against Sophia's chest. "I know you're doing this to protect me, but . . . am I going to be alright when I'm eighteen?"

 

"You will be. Once you come of age, the engagement to Cole Fay will be set in stone. That was the deal. Under the protection of our united families, you'll be untouchable."

The world's most powerful players knew that the Fays weren't just businessmen — they were elite mercenaries and assassins during the first war. Their military and combat prowess had shaped the fate of nations, elevating leaders to power and securing vast riches for those who pledged eternal loyalty to the Fays.

 

At the thought of Cole's handsome face, Sophie's cheeks turned red. "But Cole is already engaged to Eve."

 

"Not quite, darling. Cole Fay is not engaged to a person. What Cole Fay is engaged to is our family's status and the promise of a union between our two main families."

 

Sophie smirked. "I can't wait to see Eve's face when she learns the truth."

 

"You shouldn't be thinking about her. Ignore her; she's irrelevant. She might have your life now, but remember . . . she has almost died multiple times, taking poisons and bullets meant for you."

 

Sophie pouted. "She's infuriating."

 

"What about her?" Sophia asked, her tone cool and measured.

 

"She's been acting . . . unusual lately. More erratic, more hostile," Sophie explained, choosing her words carefully. "I'm concerned about her behavior. She seems desperate, almost frantic. She even lashed out at me today and drove off alone. I'm worried she might know something."

 

Sophia's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern passing over her usually composed features. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Sophie. I will look into it. For now, keep an eye on her, but don't make any unnecessary moves that would jeopardize your real identity."