Volume 1: The Night When the Iris Withered
After leaving the Howard Gallery, Irene's mood was as oppressive and uneasy as the sky shrouded in thick haze. Carl's words, "The Rockefeller family is not a safe place," echoed in her ears like an unshakable curse. She had to speed up her investigation; otherwise, she would be completely consumed by this conspiracy.
When she returned to the Rockefeller Manor, the massive stone building was like a huge cage, imprisoning her within. She felt suffocated and was desperately eager to find a breakthrough.
During dinner, Sean remained taciturn as usual. His gaze was always wandering, as if he was avoiding something. Irene tentatively talked to him and asked about Carl. He just replied coldly, "Carl? He's just an artist who likes to be mysterious. Don't pay attention to him."
There was a trace of disgust in his tone, which instead aroused Irene's curiosity even more. There was definitely more to their relationship than met the eye.
After dinner, Sean went to the study alone, and Irene, using a headache as an excuse, returned to her own room. But she didn't rest. Instead, she changed into a black outfit and quietly slipped out of the room.
She decided to search Olivia's room, hoping to find some clues.
Olivia's room was on the second floor of the manor, separated from hers by a long corridor. Everything in the room remained just as it was when Olivia was alive, as if she had just left temporarily and would be back soon.
A faint scent of iris filled the room, which was the fragrance of the perfume Olivia liked the most. Irene stood in the center of the room and looked around. Every detail made her feel uneasy. She carefully opened the wardrobe, which was filled with gorgeous gowns, each one worth a fortune. She opened the dressing table, which was filled with various expensive cosmetics and jewelry.
All these things once belonged to Olivia, the woman whose identity she had taken over.
Irene forced herself to calm down. She knew that she had to find some valuable clues.
She began to search the room carefully, from the bookshelf to the bedside table, leaving no corner untouched. She hoped to find Olivia's diary or any other documents that could reveal the truth.
However, after searching for a whole hour, she found nothing. Everything in the room was in perfect order, with no signs of anything unusual.
Irene felt disappointed. She leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh. Could it be that Olivia really hadn't left any traces behind?
Just as she was about to give up, her gaze fell on a hardcover book on the bedside table. It was a collection of Shakespeare's plays, and the spine was inlaid with golden irises.
Irene picked up the book and opened it. There were no bookmarks or writings inside. Just as she was about to put the book back, she suddenly noticed that the back cover seemed a bit loose.
She carefully opened the back cover and found that there was a hidden compartment inside.
In the hidden compartment was a small diary. The cover of the diary was dark blue, and the name "Olivia" was written on it in golden characters.
Irene's heart raced. She opened the diary and began to read it carefully.
The diary recorded some trivial matters of Olivia's life, such as the music she liked, the movies she enjoyed, and her hopes for the future, and so on.
However, as Irene kept flipping through the pages, she found that the content of the diary was getting more and more disturbing.
Olivia started to complain in the diary about Sean's violence and his controlling nature. She said that he was becoming more and more strange, often losing his temper at her and even hitting her.
She also said that she had discovered that Sean had been taking a special kind of drug, which would make him lose control of his emotions and do some terrible things.
In the latter part of the diary, Olivia began to suspect that her death was not an accident but a carefully planned conspiracy by Sean. She said that she felt she was being watched, and she was terrified. She didn't know what to do.
On the last page of the diary, Olivia wrote, "If I die, it must not be an accident. Sean, he will kill me..."
After reading the diary, Irene felt a chill down her spine. She finally understood that Olivia's death was indeed not an accident but was caused by Sean.
She tightly clutched the diary, with anger and fear intermingling in her heart. Sean, this seemingly handsome and cold man, turned out to be such a terrifying murderer!
Just then, the door of the room suddenly opened.
Irene was startled and quickly hid the diary behind her back.
Standing at the door was Sean.
His face was pale, and his eyes were cold, like a wounded beast.
"What are you doing in my room?" he asked in a low voice.
Irene pretended to be calm and said, "I just couldn't fall asleep and came here to take a look."
Sean's gaze fell on her face, as if he wanted to see through her.
"You're lying." he said coldly.
Irene's heart almost stopped. She knew that Sean had already started to suspect her.
"I'm not lying." she argued.
Sean slowly walked towards her, each step exuding a huge sense of oppression.
"Show me what's in your hand." he commanded.
Irene knew that she couldn't hide it anymore. She slowly took the diary out from behind her back.
Sean's gaze fell on the diary, and his face instantly turned ashen.
"Where... where did you find this?" he asked in a trembling voice.
"I... I was just browsing through the room and found it." Irene stammered.
Sean snatched the diary from her hand, opened the pages, and read it carefully.
His face grew more and more ghastly, and his body began to tremble violently.
"This... this isn't true..." he muttered to himself.
Irene looked at him coldly. She knew that the truth had been revealed.
"Sean Rockefeller, you killed Olivia." she said, her tone filled with anger and hatred.
Sean suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with madness and despair.
"I... I didn't kill her!" he roared wildly.
"You're lying!" Irene shouted angrily, "It's all written in the diary. You've been torturing her, and you've always wanted to kill her!"
Sean's body trembled violently. He covered his head in pain, as if suffering from great torment.
"I... I really didn't kill her..." he muttered to himself, "It was... it was Carl... Carl killed her!"
Irene's heart sank. Carl? He was actually involved in this?
Just as Irene was shocked, Sean suddenly went crazy.
He grabbed Irene's shoulders and pressed her hard against the wall.
"Shut up! Shut up!" he roared wildly, "Don't say another word! I didn't kill her! I didn't kill her!"
Irene felt it difficult to breathe. She struggled desperately, trying to break free from Sean's grasp.
Just then, a clear gunshot rang out, breaking the silence of the night.
Sean's body stiffened suddenly, and his eyes were filled with an incredulous look.
He slowly fell to the ground, and blood stained the floor.
Irene looked at Sean lying in a pool of blood in horror, her body shaking uncontrollably.
Who fired the shot? Who killed Sean?
She turned her head and looked towards the door. There stood Carl Howard, holding a pistol that was still smoking in his hand.
There was a faint smile on his face.
"Good evening, Irene." he said, his voice gentle and calm, as if nothing had just happened.
"Now, the game is just beginning."