The Villainess Just Wants to Study

Chapter 63 ~ Destruction

Dylan nervously looked at the tightly closed door. She had a sinking feeling. She didn't know why. It was like she was afraid of what was waiting for her on the other side.

"How is he?" she asked. She couldn't bring herself to ask him. "Is grandpapa doing well?"

"He is faring better than expected," one of the maids said. She was fiddling with her apron, crushing it between her restless hands, then smoothing it out again. "Your ladyship needn't worry."

"Did he tell you to say that?"

The maid flinched at her words but kept her narrowed stare focused straight ahead. Although she was calm and spoke with a very quiet tone, her nervous body language told Dylan everything. She was hiding the truth.

"N-no!" the maid said, stuttering over the words. Her hands trembled a little. "I am telling you nothing but the truth, my lady."

Arthur sighed loud enough for everyone to hear him. "Is all this necessary? Let's just go in, little miss."

Dylan ran a hand through her hair in frustration and blew out a long breath. Arthur was indeed a skilled toxicologist. He was good and he knew it, and carried himself with dignity. His manners, however, were sadly lacking.

"My lady," Jessie said, hurriedly approaching her. "I must share with you some urgent news."

"Alright," Dylan said. She turned to face Arthur. "Please go in, I'll be there momentarily."

She had watched him disappear through the door frame and turned back to Jessie. "Yes?"

Jessie paused. "Lady Lynette de Ruenz was found dead this morning."

***

Dylan sat at a peaceful little garden table, surrounded by red roses. She sipped her tea delicately, not making a sound. It tasted bitter even with sugar in it.

She closed her eyes, listening to the birds chirp and sing. Although their song was melodious, it was also eerily peaceful and serene. Suddenly, she heard the sound of soft footsteps on the grass behind her. It was him—it had to be.

She was looking down pensively into her teacup and it seemed for a moment as if she did not intend to greet him. "I think selfishness is a virtue," she finally said into her teacup, "and an important one at that."

"I heard you were looking for me," Laikin said. His voice was warm and tender, and it irked her a great deal. "May I join you?"

"Please do," she said softly, without emotion. "I came to speak with you, sir."

Her head pounded as she listened to him walk across the garden, and the sound of the chair across from her scraping against the floor.

"When this whole thing happened, I didn't know what to think." When she finally met his gaze, her eyes were cold. "Tell me, Laikin, what should I think? How should I feel?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, milady." He poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip. "Whatever are you talking about?"

Although his blue eyes looked innocent, Dylan knew horrible secrets were hidden below their surface. He was a man who didn't care for others, manipulating them like puppets for his own greedy desires.

"Did you kill her?" she asked. The pit of her stomach churned with nausea, and she tightened her grip on her teacup. "Did you kill Lynette?"

"And if I did?" He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, his eyes cutting right through her. "Would you run away from me?"