Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Lotus
The mansion instantly shifted into a state of total lockdown. Heavy steel shutters dropped over the ground-floor windows, and armed men in black tactical gear patrolled the perimeter with Belgian Malinois attack dogs. The peaceful illusion of the estate was completely shattered, replaced by the grim reality of Viktor Vance’s criminal empire preparing for war.
Sophia was instructed to keep Emma locked inside the maid's quarters on the third floor, but Isabella refused to leave Emma’s side. The trauma of discovering her mother's diary had made the young heiress cling to the toddler as her only anchor to sanity. Viktor, surprisingly, allowed it, assigning two armed guards outside Sophia’s modest bedroom door to ensure their safety.
Inside the small room, the atmosphere was suffocating.
"What did the book say, Isa?" Sophia asked softly as she prepared a simple meal of soup and bread for the children.
Isabella sat on the twin bed, holding Emma’s hand while the toddler scribbled absentmindedly on a notepad. "Mama knew someone was putting bad things in her tea," Isabella whispered, her eyes wide with remembered fear. "She wrote that she tried to hide the symptoms so Father wouldn't start a war before he knew who the traitor was. She said... she said the person giving her the tea was someone very close to Father."
Sophia felt a cold chill run down her spine. If Elena Vance was poisoned from within the household, the killer was still inside these walls—working alongside them, pouring their coffee, sweeping their floors.
A sudden knock at the door made both Sophia and Isabella jump.
The door opened, and Margaret, the head housekeeper, stepped in carrying a silver tray with a teapot and three fine porcelain cups. Her face was pale, but her demeanor remained rigid and professional.
"The Master requested I bring calming chamomile tea for the Young Miss and guest," Margaret said smoothly, setting the tray down on the small wooden table. "It has been a traumatic day."
Emma immediately rushed over to the table, lured by the sweet aroma of honey wafting from the teapot. "Tea party!" she exclaimed happily.
"No, Emma, wait until it cools," Sophia warned, walking over to assist.
Margaret smiled—a thin, tight expression that didn't reach her eyes. "Let me pour it for her, Sophia. It is my duty, after all."
As Margaret lifted the heavy silver teapot, Emma accidentally bumped into the table while reaching for a sugar cube. The table wobbled, and a few drops of hot tea splashed onto the back of Margaret's hand.
Margaret gasped, flinching violently, and dropped the teapot. It shattered on the hardwood floor, spilling hot amber liquid everywhere.
"Oh! I'm sorry, Maggie!" Emma apologized, shrinking back behind Sophia.
"You clumsy little brat!" Margaret spat out suddenly, her stern composure cracking entirely, revealing a flash of pure venom.
Sophia immediately stepped in front of her daughter, her protective instincts flaring. "She is three years old, Margaret! It was an accident!"
"Look at the mess!" Margaret hissed, her breathing ragged. She looked down at the spilled tea on the floorboards. Strangely, where the tea had soaked into the dark rug beneath the table, the fabric was beginning to hiss faintly, discolored by a strange, chemical reaction.
Sophia looked down at the carpet, her eyes widening in absolute horror. That wasn't chamomile tea.
Isabella gasped from the bed, pointing a trembling finger at the spilled liquid. "That... that smells like Mama’s medicine room! That’s the same smell!"
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Margaret realized her mistake instantly. Her eyes darted toward the door, where the two armed guards were stationed outside. Before she could move, Sophia lunged forward, grabbing Margaret by her apron, pinning the older woman against the wall with all the strength of a mother protecting her child.
"Guards!" Sophia screamed at the top of her lungs. "GUARDS!"
