Chapter 80 The True Face of the Bitch Completely Exposed
The Whitaker family's villa was plunged into stunned silence by Anna's revelation.
Initially, everyone assumed Anna was fabricating the story, perhaps under Cecilia's influence. The notion that Emily could be involved in Pamela's death seemed preposterous to all.
But when Anna announced she had a recording, skepticism gave way to a palpable tension of doubt. Avoiding their piercing stares, Anna extracted her phone from her pocket, manipulated a few buttons, cranked the volume up, and pressed play.
Emily's voice crackled to life, firm and devoid of sentiment: "Is it done?"
Anna's voice quivered in reply, "No, I can't bring myself to do it."
"Pamela is my cat, not yours. Why can't you do it? Kill it right now. I want to see its body in front of me tomorrow morning."
Anna's sob was audible, filled with desperation, "Ms. Whitaker, what did Pamela do wrong for you to treat her like this?"
Emily's voice dripped with icy contempt, "How dare you question my decisions? Do what I told you to do right now! If you can't, then get out!"
A long, heavy silence followed. Anna finally whispered, "OK, I'll do it."
"By the way," Emily's voice instructed, "take the path to the pool from the backyard after you kill Pamela. There are no cameras on that path, so no one will find out. Be careful and don't let anyone know."
"OK," Anna replied, defeated.
Emily said again, "Let me know when it's done. Don't make me wait too long."
"OK."
The recording ceased, leaving the room in a stunned, oppressive quiet.
Anna's eyes were bloodshot. She hadn't wanted to expose Emily in this manner, but circumstances had forced her hand.
Consulting her brother, a law student, Anna learned that the Yakurosean Empire indeed had laws protecting animals. Killing a pet could entail a prison sentence, despite the law's obscurity. Capturing their conversation had been a strategic move to shield herself from Emily's blame. Her brother assured her the recording would exonerate her, placing the legal responsibility squarely on Emily.
Thus, Anna had no choice but to reveal the truth.
She couldn't risk her freedom or a criminal record. Though she felt guilty for betraying Emily, Anna kept rationalizing her decision: Emily's feelings for Alaric were inappropriate and needed to be curtailed.
The hall remained silent, charged with disbelief and anger.
Caspian, her father, teetered on the brink of an emotional collapse. The recording's content seemed inconceivable, not aligning with the daughter he thought he knew. His tightly clenched fists trembled, barely containing his fury.
With emotions simmering beneath the surface, everyone remained stoic, reluctant to break the tense silence.
From the second-floor staircase, a sudden sound of footsteps echoed. All heads turned to see Emily descending, draped in a soft white nightgown that belied the accusations against her. She appeared angelic, innocent.
The stark dichotomy between the ruthless voice on the recording and the gentle, sweet Emily before them struck everyone with a bleak reality. The person they thought they knew and loved seemed like an illusory figure.
Before anyone could react, Emily's eyes suddenly turned red as she spotted Cecilia lingering in the Whitaker family's hall—a sight she couldn't tolerate.
Of course, it was all a meticulously crafted ploy. Pamela's death, her feigned illness today, her calculated descent down the stairs—all components of her intricate scheme.
She knew very well that to drive Cecilia away and create a rift between Cecilia and her family, the most important thing was to create conflict.
Emily understood that to oust Cecilia and create a chasm between Cecilia and the family, she needed to instigate conflict. She cast blame for Pamela's death on Cecilia, knowing full well it was absurd. Yet, no one would hold her accountable; they'd just assume she was distraught, lashing out. Cecilia, feeling wronged, was bound to retaliate. The fiercer Cecilia's protest, the more her family would resent her.
This anticipated friction was the crux of Emily's plan. She feared Cecilia might choose to keep quiet, aware of her reputation as someone who avoided conflict, who bore grievances silently. If Cecilia swallowed her pride as Rebecca had years before, Emily's plot would falter. Even so, unsettling Cecilia would be a minor victory.
Unexpectedly, things unfolded better than Emily dared hope. Unlike Rebecca, who learned to navigate familial dynamics with cautious submissiveness, Cecilia appeared unwise, more reactive.
Emily had initially perceived Cecilia as different. She had followed Cecilia and Alaric's wedding from afar, consumed with jealousy. Cecilia, resplendent in her bridal gown, exuded grace and strength, qualities that left Emily awestruck and simmering with envy. Yet now, Emily believed it was merely the wedding dress that conferred Cecilia's allure. Stripped of that garment, Cecilia was, in Emily's eyes, unremarkable.
Though Emily's mind teemed with these thoughts, her face remained a mask of innocence. At the sight of Cecilia, her eyes brimmed with tears, her expression shattered. "Why is she still here?" she asked, her voice a soft lament.
Emily's pitiful demeanor was calculated to ignite protective instincts. She had honed this act since childhood, recognizing its unparalleled efficacy in coercing compliance. This moment would be no exception.
She awaited the family's desperate rush to her side, their concern palpable.
In truth, Emily hadn't slept a wink since returning from the hospital, her supposed illness a ruse. When everyone left, she had pried information from the servants, learning Cecilia remained in the living room, unyielding.
Emily presumed Cecilia was attempting to clear her name, and this pleased her. She bided her time, letting Cecilia speak, then chose the perfect moment to make her entrance, cementing Cecilia's image as an unforgiving, combative person, intent on tarnishing Cecilia's reputation.
This strategy served a dual purpose: driving a wedge between Cecilia and Alaric. For Emily, her feelings for Alaric were beyond sisterly; she harbored a deep, possessive love for her brother. No other woman could have him.
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