Chapter 5: He Was Merely Playing with Her

Delphine's face changed abruptly, her perpetually bloodless complexion as pale as snow. The voice that had haunted her countless nightmares now appeared vividly before her.

She instinctively closed her eyes, steadied her trembling hands and feet, then reopened her eyes. Before she could retaliate, a soft and coquettish voice interrupted her: "Leclair, you're late for the banquet."

The garden door was pushed open, and a woman in a deep-V evening gown entered, smiling sweetly as she addressed the man beside her, "Leclair, who is she?"

"Hmm, someone unimportant." The man's voice was deep and magnetic, his tone rising at the end, radiating an air of indifference and nobility that dismissed the world.

Delphine's gaze flitted past the woman, her smile faintly cold.

Five years, five months, and seven days. Every single day she had lived in nightmares and despair, while the sole heir of the prestigious Leclair Family only saw her as a plaything—an insignificant girl from a lowly background.

She let out a low chuckle, a self-mocking and bitter sound.

Ignatius Leclair's deep, narrow eyes suddenly sharpened as he turned his head and addressed the woman beside him in a low voice, "I'll have the driver take you to the charity banquet."

"Leclair, then I'll wait for you there," she replied sweetly, reluctant, yet obedient as she followed the butler out.

The side hall instantly quieted, leaving only the two of them behind. The atmosphere grew suddenly sinister.

Ignatius's gaze bore down on her like a black beast stalking its prey. As she turned away, Ignatius spoke.

"Is it because Isaac's back?" His voice had returned to its usual detachment, like a cold chime of metal striking stone.

Delphine froze for a moment but didn't turn back. Her response was frigid: "Once Isaac's illness is cured, I'll leave. I won't tarnish your family's reputation."

Ignatius's gaze darkened sharply. He looked down at the young woman who had disappeared for years. She had grown taller, nearly reaching his shoulders, and her features had matured. But she was still too thin.

He let out a sardonic chuckle and drawled lazily, "Delphine Carter, do you think someone like you could ever tarnish the Leclair family's reputation?"

Delphine's face turned pale. Right—what was she to them? Yet years ago, Ignatius had expelled her with that same ridiculous excuse. All he ever did was manipulate her.

"What's wrong? Five years and you still haven't figured it out?" Ignatius grabbed her chin abruptly, his breath hovering dangerously close.

Forced to meet his deep and piercing eyes, Delphine's hands and feet grew cold.

The innocent infatuation of her youth was now interwoven with years of turmoil and pain. She had spent countless hours trying to understand—why did he have to treat her like this?

"You did it on purpose," she said, her voice steady and deliberate. The drama from years ago was nothing but Ignatius Leclair's orchestrations; it had all been his design.

Ignatius's long and elegant fingers brushed against her small face, his eyes dark and unfathomable. His voice was deep and hoarse as he said, "Since you've come back, that's fine. I've always missed the way things used to be."

Shameless. Delphine struggled free, glaring furiously at him before turning to leave.

"Heh." Ignatius chuckled softly, his tone languid as he said, "Don't forget—your aunt and your brother are still under the Leclair family's roof."

Delphine's body stiffened abruptly.

"Five years ago, that night after I left the Leclair estate, I went to the hospital." She turned back and spoke, her body chilled, yet she persisted in finishing every single word. "I underwent tests and collected the analysis report."

Ignatius's handsome face betrayed no emotion; his eyes were as deep and still as ancient wells. He stepped closer and seized her cold cheek, his voice soft yet dangerous: "Delphine Carter, are you trying to threaten me? You might need many copies of those reports if that's the case—and I can help you get them, free of charge."