Chapter 5

Everyone’s attention snapped toward the sound of her voice.

Rachel stood there, fresh-faced with no makeup, her silky hair still damp from the shower. A towel clung tightly to her chest, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone.

Steam and mist still lingered in the bathroom behind her.

Dennis whipped his head away in a hurry, his ears burning red as he stumbled over his words. “Step-grandma, I’m so sorry. You didn’t answer when we knocked—we thought something was wrong.”

Rachel’s stunning eyes blazed with fury. She raised a hand, pointing sharply at the door. “Get out. Now!”

Abigail’s expression shifted subtly, a flicker of reluctance crossing her face. “Mrs. Smith, have you seen Kevin?”

Her gaze darted around the room, searching for any sign of something amiss.

But there was nothing out of place—not a single clue to betray what happened moments ago.

Rachel fixed her with an icy stare, a mocking smirk tugging at her lips. “Your boyfriend’s missing, so you come looking in my room?”

Her tone was anything but polite.

With features that leaned toward seductive charm, Rachel’s face transformed depending on her mood. When she smiled faintly, she resembled a sly fox—cunning and alluring. But when her expression hardened like this, it radiated cold detachment.

“Out,” she repeated, voice cutting like glass.

Dennis scrambled to speak, flustered. “Step-grandma, please don’t be upset. We’re leaving right now.”

Ralph’s face remained unreadable, though a hint of disdain flickered in his eyes. “Turns out it was just a misunderstanding.”

The group stormed in with all their drama and suspicions, only to slink out just as quickly, each carrying their own unspoken thoughts.

Rachel strode over and slammed the door shut behind them with a resounding thud.

She let out a heavy breath, relief washing over her momentarily before her eyes drift toward the window.

The white sheer curtains swayed gently in the breeze, a chill wind brushing against her bare skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

After throwing on some clothes, Rachel headed straight to see Isaac.

Isaac reclined against the headboard of his bed, the dim light casting harsh shadows over the deep lines etched into his face and highlighting the bruised, purplish spots creeping beneath his skin.

Rachel masked the disgust flickering in her chest. Even the air he breathed felt foul to her—nauseating enough to turn her stomach.

“What happened just now?” he asked, voice low.

Rachel’s shoulders trembled slightly as she bit her lower lip, putting on a pitiful expression. “I have no idea what got into them. I was halfway through my shower when they barged in—like they have zero respect for me.”

Normally, she wouldn’t dare speak so boldly to Isaac, but this incident gave her the perfect excuse to push back.

“I don’t even want to live here anymore,” she continued, voice fragile. “The way they look at me—it’s like I’m some item on a shelf for them to gawk at. And my private space? They think they can just waltz right in whenever they feel like it.”

Isaac stayed silent, his sharp, predatory eyes locked on her every move.

“They were definitely out of line,” he finally conceded.

Tears welled up in Rachel’s pale, glassy eyes before spilling over, cascading down her cheeks like broken pearls before she could even speak again.

“I know you’ve been kind enough to look after me, but I can’t handle those stares any longer.”

Her voice cracked with vulnerability as she pleaded, “I want to move out of here.”

Isaac didn’t respond immediately; instead, he patted the spot beside him on the bed, gesturing for Rachel to sit closer.

She hesitated, twisting nervously before complying with reluctant obedience.

His gaze softened slightly, though there was still a probing edge to it. “Don’t worry—I’ll handle this. I won’t let you be treated this way.”

Rachel nearly bit through her tender lip, almost drawing blood as she nodded faintly. “I know I shouldn’t make a fuss over something like this, but it happened so fast… If I’d reacted even a second slower…”

She trailed off deliberately, letting the implication hang in the air.

Isaac’s expression darkened further at her unspoken words.

He reached out to grasp her wrist—but Rachel suddenly clutched at her chest, coughing uncontrollably as if on cue.

Her already pale complexion looked even worse now under the strain.

“Are you okay? Caught a cold?” Isaac asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“I might’ve gotten chilled during my shower earlier,” she murmured weakly, standing up quickly and stepping back a few paces. “I should keep my distance—I’d hate for you to catch anything from me.”

Isaac nodded thoughtfully, a wave of exhaustion seeming to wash over him as he gestured dismissively with one hand. “Go rest for now. I’ll warn them about this—and I’ll make sure those spare keys are taken care of.”

Rachel gave a small, strained nod but says nothing more.

The moment she turned to leave his room, raw hatred flared in her eyes—she could barely keep it contained.

Of course Isaac wouldn’t let her leave Smith Manor that easily—she knew it all along.

Rachel hardly slept a wink that night.

By the time breakfast rolled around the next morning, everyone from the Smith family was already seated at the long dining table.

Isaac’s side was reserved for her, naturally—directly across from Kevin, of all people.

Rachel walked over with an impassive expression, pulling out her chair and sitting down without fanfare.

Isaac shielded his mouth with one hand, letting out a deep cough before speaking. “About last night—I’ve been informed of everything that went down. From now on, all spare keys will be destroyed.”

Dennis flushed awkwardly, stammering through an explanation. “Grandpa, it’s my fault entirely—I was just too worried about Step-grandma.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, it felt like the temperature in the room plummeted five degrees colder in an instant.

Kevin’s face remained blank, but his grip tightened around his glass of milk until his knuckles whitened subtly—a flash of irritation brewing beneath narrowed eyes.

What was he picking up between Dennis’s lines? Something felt… off about that apology.

His lips pressed into a thin line; there was ice in his gaze now—so chilling that even Abigail glanced over at him uneasily from beside him.

Dennis rubbed at his arm absentmindedly.

Why did it suddenly feel so cold?

Isaac gave a casual nod, brushing past the tension effortlessly as if nothing was amiss. “Fine then," he stated simply. "I trust incidents like these won’t repeat themselves."

Rachel kept quiet throughout exchange, silently focusing on eating breakfast head bowed low avoiding eye contact altogether.

Destroying spare keys, huh?

That kind promise might fool toddler—but definitely not her.

Today, she opted light-colored casual dress exposing just hint calves below hemline. Suddenly, she felt an icy sensation on her calf, catching her off guard.

Who’d dare bold enough touch her leg under table with everyone present?

Leaning backward slightly shifting posture Rachel let glance slip downward quick sweep confirming suspicion almost instantly.

Who else could it possibly be other than Kevin?

Cool fabric suit pants brushed against her skin, like invisible serpent coiling along path across flesh.

Yet Kevin acted like nothing was happening.

White tablecloth draped conveniently concealed any movement happening underneath.

Rachel attempted to squirm away yet found herself trapped in this confined narrow space.

Meanwhile, intrusive presence grew bolder, no longer content of merely teasing calf, inching upward steadily.

Her fist clenched tightly.

Right then, Ralph stared at Kevin intently, calling out in a stern voice, “Kevin.”