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Chapter : 10
“Them.”
Lauren grabbed onto the unfamiliar word.
Weren’t that attacker and Cedric working together?
“You know I wasn’t the masked man. I lost the chance to chase him because I was too busy carrying you.”
As if he’d sacrificed something great, Cedric naturally shifted the blame to her.
His hand left the armrest and moved to the back of the sofa.
His face was now even closer than before—close enough that she could feel his breath.
“But—but what about you? I have to stay here, but you’re roaming around outside solving problems? That’s strange. Wouldn’t ‘they’ be dangerous to you too?”
He slowly furrowed his brow, his deep green eyes narrowing.
“Of course they’d be dangerous to me, Lauren. But think logically.”
Cedric suddenly seized Lauren’s wrist.
He moved too fast for her to evade.
“Ah!”
She screamed and kicked wildly, trying to drive her foot into his stomach. Cedric was faster.
He pressed her thigh down with his knee.
Lauren twisted her body toward the side of the sofa to break free.
Her wrist slipped free for only a moment—then his hand clamped down hard on her shoulder again.
It all happened in an instant.
Barely a few seconds later, her cheek was pressed against the low table.
Cedric twisted her arms behind her back, pinning them with his left hand while his right hand bore down on her shoulder.
She tried to shout—what are you doing?!—but no voice came out.
With Cedric’s weight crushing her, only thin, ragged breaths escaped her lips.
Cedric bent close and whispered into the ear of the woman he’d pinned like a criminal:
“You’re weak. You can’t defend yourself against a sudden attack.”
“…….”
“Between you and me, Lauren… who do you think is the easier target?”
When he finished speaking, the force pressing her down vanished.
Hands in his pockets, Cedric stepped back a few paces.
Lauren staggered to her feet.
Her reddened wrists throbbed sharply. She turned toward Cedric.
Her fingertips trembled.
Her heart hammered erratically.
Her indoor dress was crumpled from the struggle.
She could feel Cedric’s eyes slowly sweeping over her.
The sitting room window reflected both of them plainly.
A woman trembling, and a man standing calmly before her.
“A-and after all that, you still—”
“My apologies. I was discourteous just now.”
The hollow apology was the final trigger.
Lauren swung at his cheek—but before her hand reached him, her wrist was caught in midair.
“If you’d like to hurt yourself, might I suggest a different method? I’m not the only one that would feel it.”
“…You really are insane.”
Lauren ripped her hand free and hurried into the hall.
Her frantic footsteps faded bit by bit.
Left alone in the sitting room, Cedric stared out the window for a long while.
“Maybe I scared her too much…”
Still—too much was better than too little.
He didn’t care what she thought of him.
Getting angry, screaming, even slapping someone—those were luxuries reserved for the living.
SLAM!
The door shut with a thunderous crack.
The moment Lauren entered her room, her knees buckled and she collapsed.
The cold touch of the table still lingered on her cheek.
She clenched her fist so tightly her nails dug into her palm.
You started it. You bastard!
Lauren gasped violently.
The fury refused to dissipate.
She wanted to punch a pillow until her arm went numb.
Easier target?
As if having a mouth meant he could say anything he pleased.
If she hadn’t met him at that gambling hall,
if he hadn’t used her and stolen her key with those cheap tricks…
Endless ifs wound together in her mind.
Everything she’d held down until now burst free.
She was terrified.
She laughed and chatted with Peter like nothing was wrong,
but every night she lay awake, imagining the worst.
The staff treated her like a guest,
but Lauren thought of this mansion as a prison.
And Cedric.
Damn Cedric Collins!
She had always believed avoiding dangerous people was the safest choice—
but now she wanted to watch Cedric burn.
If she could ruin him somehow, she’d take the risk gladly.
Dragging herself to the bed, she scrubbed her face into the sheets.
Even if it scraped her skin, she should have slapped him.
Only after punching the mattress a few times did she finally calm down.
She slumped against the headboard.
He said “them.” I’m sure of it.
Them.
The two-headed spider etched into the key.
The linked wounds.
Cedric Collins.
She began lining up what she knew.
Cedric said he rescued her when she collapsed—rescued her from them.
It hadn’t sounded like a lie.
A horrifying conclusion pressed into her mind.
If the assailants knew she existed,
then—just as Cedric said—this really might be the safest place.
Even if she escaped, she’d be hunted.
And unlike Cedric, those men wouldn’t care whether she survived.
But still…
Could she trust him?
She could still feel his hand pinning her down.
From the beginning, the scale had been tipped.
Cedric knew things she didn’t.
He had purpose she couldn’t see.
Lauren tossed and turned for hours.
She couldn’t just stay idle.
Convincing Cedric—
impossible. He wasn’t a man reason would touch.
Escaping—
pointless if she couldn’t survive afterward.
She needed a third option.
If she couldn’t leave this place, she would take the initiative from Cedric.
She listed her enemies again.
Bonus points if I can screw that lunatic over while I’m at it.
She stayed awake the entire night, muttering
lunatic,
bastard,
worthless piece of trash,
over and over.
At dawn, lightning struck her mind.
“…I must be insane.”
And yet, she reached for paper and began outlining the plan.
A lace-covered table stretched wide before them—far too lavish for tea between just Peter and Lauren.
When the maid arrived carrying a wooden box overflowing with glass jars of tea leaves, Lauren could only gape.
“Pick whichever you like, miss.”
Peter pushed the box toward her proudly.
“We don’t need this many…”
He seemed to think she was joking. He burst into a booming laugh.
These days Peter had been hovering around Lauren more than usual—
ever since the day she spoke with Cedric in the parlor.
He must have heard something from Cedric.
Cedric himself hadn’t appeared since.
Lauren didn’t ask where he was;
seeing him would only lead to the same pointless arguments.
Better that he stay out of sight.
Instead, she began prying for information—
the very stories she usually ignored.
Peter answered diligently, if puzzled.
Most details were useless…
but once in a while, she caught something worthwhile.
“His father’s accident hit him hard too. Poor boy.”
Exactly like now.
Lauren’s spoon stopped stirring her cold tea.
“Accident?”
“You didn’t know? Well, I guess it’s not a pleasant story… and you were probably a kid back then.”
Peter picked up a scone piled high with clotted cream.
In his large hand, it looked like a bite-sized biscuit.
“I might’ve been twenty, you know.”
“You’re funny. With that baby face? Cedric was around ten, so you must’ve been close in age.”
“Maybe…”
Lauren sipped the lukewarm tea.
Its bitterness lingered on her tongue.
If possible, she wanted to find old newspapers from that time.
“So what do you do, Peter? Surely your job isn’t just hanging around with me.”
“My job, huh… Back when I was younger, I sailed.
Now I mostly clean up after that brat.”
There was affection buried in his grumbling tone.
Lauren’s lips twisted strangely.
Lucky guy. Someone actually cares about him.
The anger of the trapped only grew heavier.
“Still not hungry, miss?”
Peter lifted the last scone—then set it gently back on the plate.
The long platter that had once held five scones was empty.
“No, really. Have it.”
“Strange girl. Oh! That tavern, you know—”
“What happened?”
“The owner had more stories than anyone could stomach.
Said it was a secret house special, not on the menu.
Talked my ear off for ages. I’ve forgotten most of it now.
How’d you even know about it?”
It had to be Noah.
Lauren cheered inwardly.
