Chapter 215

Verena slipped into the booth and sat opposite Ivan, who hadn't taken his eyes off her since the moment she walked in.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked.

Elbows resting lazily on the table, Ivan flashed a sly grin. "It's been a while. You've grown even more radiant."

That day, Verena wore a snow-white silk blouse, a black ribbon tied at the collar into a bow that looked casual yet refined-an elegant balance between grace and authority.

Matched with deep blue skinny jeans that hugged her slender legs, her attire, paired with her striking features, made it nearly impossible to look away.

Ivan's words weren't just hollow flattery;they carried weight.

But Verena shot him a sharp glare. "You never change, do you? Still can't keep yourself in line."

Her voice carried the tone of an elder sister chastising a younger brother-stern on the surface, yet threaded with warmth.

Feigning remorse, he clasped his hands together, bowing his head. "My fault, Verena. I was out of line."

Her lips curved despite herself, but she quickly straightened. "Enough games. Tell me-what's this about?Did you run into trouble again?"

If it hadn't been serious, Ivan wouldn't have insisted on a face-to-face talk.

He shook his head slowly. "No. It's not about me.It's about you."

Verena's brows drew together. "Abot me?"

"Yes." Ivan's nod was grave. "A few days ago, I hacked into a site." Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of site?"

"An assassin's website," he replied evenly. "I was poking around out of boredom and stumbled onto something-a contract from months ago. It was tied to your grandmother."

Shawna-Verena's one tender spot, the very wound that never healed.

She shot to her feet. "What happened to my grandmother?"

Seeing her agitation, Ivan reached out quickly, pressing her back into the seat."Don't get worked up. Let me explain first. Hear me out."

He unlocked his phone, pulled up a screenshot, and slid it across the table.

Verena's eyes locked on the image. Her body trembled as though struck by a thunderbolt.

It was an anonymous contract, the bounty modest but clear in its one demand: the woman in the attached photo must die. The image was Shawna-snapped secretly, without her knowledge.

Ivan frowned. "Strange, isn't it? Your grandmother was just an ordinary woman. Yet the person who offered the bounty wanted her death masked as an accident. Who would go to such lengths?" Staring at the photo, Verena's hands shook uncontrollably.

Rage surged like a storm tide; her eyes burned red, and the world blurred.

"So... Grandma was murdered," she whispered through clenched teeth.

Her heart ached imagining Shawna-gentle, kind, unaware-forced into fear she never deserved.

And guilt cut deep; Verena loathed herself for failing to shield her.

Watching her shoulders quake, Ivan laid his hands gently on them, his voice low. "The bounty was marked as claimed. The job was carried out. Don't torture yourself too much, Verena."

Months ago, Verena had rushed back to Akoitha.

Ivan had heard from Julianna then-it was for a funeral. Verena's fists tightened, nails digging into her palms. Her mind reeledd, racing through possible culprits.

Shawna, who harmed no one, quarreled only over trivial village matters-none of which could ever justify this. Rural folk wouldn't even know such a website existed.

Could it be...

Verena's eyes narrowed to slits. One name surfaced. Laura. The only person in this world who'd rather Shawna hadn't lived.

Without another word, she bolted from the booth, ignoring Ivan's startled calls behind her.

···

Verena sped to Willis Villa, every mile burning with fury.

The moment she stepped out, the household staff, who once treated her with cold indifference,now hurried over, all smiles and bows.

One of them said, "Mrs. Bennett, welcome! Here to see Mr. and Mrs. Willis? Someone has already gone to announce your arrival. Please, this way..."

"Move!" The word shot from her clenched jaw, her eyes cold as a winter'sblade.

The servant froze, shivered, and scrambled aside.

Verena stormed forward. Laura and Alec descended the staircase, their faces bright with delight as though dawn had broken inside their home.

The servant's report had seemed impossible, for Verena had publicly driven them out of her hospital's opening ceremony.

Yet here she was.

Their smiles widened.

"Verena,,my dear, you missed your mother after all, didn't you? I knew it. No rift lasts forever between mother and daughter." Laura's face glowed as she reached for Verena's hand. But the very next heartbeat shattered her illusion.

Verena seized her wrist and clamped down on her throat with the other hand.

Alec's eyes widened in horror. "Verena, stop! That's your mother!"

But Verena's fury drowned out his plea. Her eyes blazed with fire as she demanded, "Was it you? Did you send someone to kill my grandmother? Answer me! Was it you?"

Laura froze, stunned as though lightning had struck.

She had expected reconciliation, not accusation.

Her voice shook as she struggled against Verena's grip. "I... I don't know what you're talking about...It wasn't me, I swear...I wouldn't dare..."

Her eyes were wide, full of fear and confusion, as though Verena had cast her into a nightmare without warning.

The air itself grew suffocating, heavy with tension.

Verena stared at Laura's trembling form, and then shut her eyes briefly. Her anger eased, just slightly.

At last, she loosened her hold and drew in a sharp breath, forcing herself to calm.

Released, Laura staggered back, clutching her throat as a fit of coughing wracked her.

Color rushed into her cheeks, her heart pounding-in fright.

She had seen something terrifying in Verena's face-like an animal cornered, baring its fangs,ready to tear into flesh.

Slowly, Verena's eyes opened again, her gaze fixed on Laura..

No... it wasn't Laura.

She knew it deep down.

Laura might have disliked Shawna, but Shawna's quiet country life posed no threat. There was no gain in plotting her death.

Verena took a step back, confusion replacing fury.

If not Laura,then who?

Who would stoop to targeting a defenseless old woman?

Or-was this somehow about her identity as Evelyn?

Yet she had always been cautious. Abroad, her identity and family ties remained hidden from prying eyes.

Her temples throbbed; her head felt heavy with questions. She turned sharply and walked away.