Chapter 230: Your Loyalty to Miss April

Matilda gasped for air, clutching her collar where Emily held her in a tight grip.

Pain throbbed through her swelling cheek, but her ten years of ingrained arrogance and cruel authority over the estate’s staff didn’t evaporate so easily. Her eyes bulged, dark malice twisting her features as she sneered back at the girl holding her.

"Act?!" Matilda rasped, her voice thick with venom. "You think playing tough changes a damn thing, April?! I know every inch of your miserable face! I’m the one who put you in your place when you were starving in the servant quarters, and I’m the one who will throw you back there!"

Matilda tried to wrench herself free, raising her hand as if to strike back. "You’re a dirty, ungrateful thief who belongs in chains—"

Before Matilda’s hand could even ascend, Emily’s grip tightened on her collar with startling, unnatural strength. Emily didn’t even flinch. She simply tilted her head, her expression smoothing into an eerie, vacant calm that made the air in the narrow gallery instantly freeze.

"You really think I’m her?" Emily whispered softly, her thumb pressing hard against the housekeeper’s trachea, cutting off her breath mid-sentence. "You think my sister would ever look at a disgusting, pathetic insect like you with anything other than utter disgust?"

Matilda choked, her face turning a mottled red as she clawed futilely at Emily’s wrist.

"My sister suffered under this roof," Emily continued, her dark eyes wide, glittering with a quiet, terrifying insanity under her sparkling tiara. "And you... you dared to make her bleed."

Emily leaned in closer, her breath brushing against Matilda’s ear as the cowering housekeeper began to violently tremble.

"I don’t care who you are," Emily purred softly, a dark, chilling smile stretching across her lips. "I don’t care what you did in the past. But if my sister gives me the word tonight... I will personally watch you bleed out on this marble floor. Do you understand me?"

Matilda let out a muffled, terrified whimper, tears of sheer panic finally leaking from the corners of her eyes. She nodded frantically, completely broken by the silent, feral menace radiating from the girl in white.

Satisfied, Emily released her collar abruptly.

Matilda collapsed onto the cold marble floor in a heap, clutching her throat and gasping for air, shrinking back against the baseboard like a kicked dog.

Emily smoothed down the front of her shimmering diamond gown, her posture immediately returning to its pristine, elegant stance. The dark, terrifying haze in her eyes dissolved in an instant, replaced by her usual soft, calm demeanor as she turned back to face the two men standing behind her.

"I apologize for the delay," Emily said gently, adjusting a stray strand of her wavy hair with a small, quiet smile. "Shall we head back to April now?"

Samuel stood motionless for a brief second, his eyes fixed on Emily with absolute, unwavering approval. For Samuel—a man whose present existence was defined by fanatical, reverent devotion to April—seeing Emily display the exact same cold, protective madness for her sister was nothing short of magnificent.

Samuel bowed deeply, his gloved hand resting over his heart. "A flawless performance, Miss Emily. Your loyalty to Miss April is truly pristine."

Alexander chuckled under his breath, a slow, appreciative smirk dancing on his lips as he stepped forward to offer Emily his arm. "Emily, you might just be even more terrifying than your sister when you’re provoked."

Emily blinked, her big, clear eyes widening in harmless confusion. "Whatever do you mean?"

She looked down at her small fingers, lightly flexing her palm as if examining the lingering sting of the blow. The dark, suffocating menace that had just pinned the housekeeper to the wall vanished entirely, melting away like ice under a spring sun.

"I could never be half as impressive as my sister," Emily murmured softly, her tone entirely earnest. "April is strong, brilliant, and brave. I’m just... me."

She paused, her gaze dropping to her hand again as her voice softened into a low, quiet whisper.

"Still... hearing someone try to drag her through the dirt like that... it makes my blood boil." Emily looked up, a subtle, hypnotic chill flickering in the depths of her dark eyes. "It stirs this awful, dark impulse inside me. Like I just want to tear them apart piece by piece so they can never breathe her name again."

Then, as quickly as the shadow had fallen, her expression smoothed out completely. A sweet, innocent smile touched her lips, making her look like a pure, blameless angel once more.

"Shall we head back to the main hall now? April must be waiting."

Samuel stared at her for a second longer, a profound, chilling respect gleaming in his eyes. He gave a sharp, reverent bow. "After you, Miss Emily."

Alexander raised an eyebrow, a dark, thoroughly entertained smirk spreading across his face as he shook his head. He glanced at Samuel with a look that said she really is April’s twin, before offering Emily a polite nod.

"I understand completely," Alexander said, his tone dry, sharp, and genuinely amused. "Next time someone runs their mouth about your sister, I’ll step aside and let you finish the job."

With Samuel walking half a pace behind them, they turned back down the east gallery, heading toward the grand hall.

Meanwhile, in the center of the bustling ballroom, Steven Morgan was still hovering around April, his face plastered with a slick, practiced smile as he tried to sweet-talk the mysterious woman in sapphire.

"If My Lady would permit me," Steven preened, gesturing toward the VIP lounge, "I would be delighted to introduce you to our board members. A woman of your extraordinary presence deserves only the finest company—"

"Steven," a harsh, shrill voice cut him off mid-sentence.

Selma Le Moreno strode up to the group, her emerald-draped fingers clutching her silk shawl, her eyes fixed entirely on April. Beside her, Cai was practically trembling like a leaf, hiding behind his father and staring at April as if she were a ghost holding a butcher’s knife.

Selma didn’t pay heed to her son’s sheer terror. Her gaze locked onto April’s face, her brows twisting into a look of deep, ugly disgust.

In Selma’s mind, the woman standing in front of her in the royal sapphire dress was Emily—the useless, spineless girl who had dared to exist.

"So this is where you’ve been hiding!" Selma spat, completely ignoring Steven and stepping directly into April’s personal space.