The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 311

ELLIOT

Lavinia’s nanny screamed as she was dragged by her hair, gripped tightly in Rossella’s unyielding fist, all the way to the staircase landing.

"Go find a woman for your son in another house, you wretched hag!" Rossella shouted over Mrs. Elena’s piercing cries as the woman clutched at her own hair, her face twisted in pain.

In the midst of the struggle, the nanny’s panicked eyes met mine.

"Your Lordship, I beg you! The Duchess is accusing me unfairly! I’ve only cared for her little one as if she were my own! She… AAAAHHHH!"

A shrill scream echoed as Rossella mercilessly shoved her, sending her tumbling down the stairs—just like I had done the day she arrived with the accountant’s corpse.

I didn’t even flinch as her body rolled down, muffled groans escaping her lips, her hands flailing desperately in the air, trying to grab onto something, anything, until she landed with a dull thud in the foyer.

My eyes remained fixed on the cold, ruthless woman who descended the stairs at a calm pace, following right behind the nanny, who tumbled like a rag doll, possibly dead by the time she reached the bottom.

Rossella didn’t even blink.

The servants around us covered their mouths, stunned and terrified—they had only ever seen me commit such cruel acts before.

How can a person change so much in just a few months?

Is this an extreme reaction to all the humiliations she endured, the scorn she swallowed in silence?

She didn’t seem to know who Theodore was, but perhaps she simply didn’t remember a mere stable boy.

The burdens of the Duchy had never really mattered.

And that knowledge about the grains… Since when was Rossella this sharp and intelligent?

I now regret never paying attention to her before, especially to the physical details. Had she been hiding all these years?

Had she always been this… fascinating? I recall the question she asked me.

The answer is undeniable:

I prefer this new Rossella—if she truly is Rossella—because the more time passes… the more doubts creep into my mind.

*****

KATHERINE

"Get her off the property! Her and her son! What are you waiting for?!" I roared at two servants who stood frozen in place.

She had broken free from the servants’ grip and was charging toward me like a wild beast, limping even, but the rage contorting her face gave her strength.

I heard the rasp of her throat, the movement of her cheeks and mouth—her intentions were clear.

I braced myself for impact, but in the blink of an eye, a wall of muscle stepped between me and the threat.

"Your Lordship!"

"Oh, by His Majesty! Did she just spit at the Duke?!"

"My Lord, forgive me! Please, my Lord! It wasn’t meant for you, Your Lordship, it was… it was for…!"

"It was meant for the Duchess, was it?! And you think that makes it any less serious?! You just spat in the face of a noble!" his roar made even me jump from behind him.

From the dull thud and the cries, it seemed the nanny had fallen to her knees on the gravel at the entrance.

"On top of that, airing your masters’ private affairs out here as if you were gossiping with the market vendors! Where did you get such audacity?!" His voice made the very walls tremble, and every servant lowered their head in fear.

The butler and the housekeeper stepped out to the doorway, standing in silent witness.

"Your husband, your son, and you—you’re leaving my Duchy! You are expelled from my lands, and be grateful I’m not having you whipped to death for your insolence! And let this be a warning to anyone who dares disrespect the ducal family!" His sharp gaze swept over all those present.