CHAPTER 55: WHO IS THIS MOUSE

Scarlet’s POV

The marble floor of my father’s sunroom was cool beneath my feet, a stark contrast to the warmth of the servant’s hands as they meticulously attended to my pedicure.

I watched their trembling fingers with detached amusement; such a simple, fragile creature. One wrong move and I’d have their position terminated. Permanently.

"This situation with the Serpent’s Kiss," I began, my voice a smooth, calculated drawl as I looked at my father, Mr. Valois, who was sipping his brandy by the window. "Are we certain it will favor us? We both know the Shadow Cult doesn’t work with anyone... unless they find them sufficiently useful."

My father’s smile was a thin, predatory line. "It will be perfect, my dear. Now that the track is being officially used by our kind, it’s only a matter of time before the vessel is found."

Ah, the vessel. The Cult’s ritual to resurrect their hybrid enchantress required a living body for her spirit to inhabit—a woman from her direct bloodline. A woman who had vanished from their radar over twenty-five years ago, mere moments after her birth.

"So, you believe this... vessel... wherever she’s been hiding, will be drawn to the Serpent’s Kiss?" I mused, examining the color the servant was applying. A deep, venomous crimson. Appropriate. "That the enchantment will call to her blood?"

"Precisely," my father agreed, his eyes glinting with ambition. "And since we are in collaboration with the Vexxon brothers, the moment they identify her, we simply... take her. We deliver the vessel to the Cult, and in return, they swear absolute loyalty. The Valois name will ascend to untouchable heights, with the Shadow Cult as our devoted lapdogs."

It was a brilliant plan. . Its success, however, hinged entirely on one variable: finding the woman. I wondered what she would look like. She would need to possess a certain... potency. A latent power simmering beneath the surface.

And then, unbidden, the image of that mouse from the Vexxon estate flickered in my mind. That plain, dull creature with the audacity to sit in my space. My face soured. The very notion was an insult. That simpering, silver-haired nobody? Impossible. My mind had merely conjured her because of the hair color. A weakling like that could never host a fraction of such power.

My father’s voice cut through my thoughts. "Speaking of the Vexxons... I was under the impression they would be your lapdogs by now. I thought you would have had them mated and bound to you already."

A flicker of pure, white-hot irritation shot through me. The servant’s hands jerked at the sudden tension in my posture.

"I thought so too," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. "But on the day I had so perfectly arranged, the brothers were suddenly... unavailable." The memory was a fresh wound. The planned heat, the scent I’d saturated their home with... all for nothing. "It’s as if they were avoiding me. They should have been crawling, desperate. It’s... annoying."

The servant’s shiver was more pronounced this time, a tiny, pathetic tremor. I slowly lowered my gaze to them.

"You," I said, my voice soft as a razor’s edge. "You had better not make a single mistake."

My father’s next words were a carefully aimed dart. "Or perhaps they’ve come in contact with their real fated mate."

Rage, hot and absolute, erupted within me. "I am their real fated mate!" I snarled, the sound tearing through the serene room. The servant flinched so violently I heard a nail file clatter to the floor. I ignored them. "There is no one else!"

"You know what I am talking about, Scarlet," he replied, his voice infuriatingly calm. "The Moon Goddess’s whims are... unpredictable."

My fingers instinctively went to the enchanted waist beads hidden beneath my dress, their subtle power a constant hum against my skin. "This is merely speeding up the inevitable. It’s convincing the Moon Goddess to correct her oversight and finally see what is so blatantly obvious—that I am the only possible choice for them."

"Then how do you explain their lack of... enthusiasm?" he pressed, swirling his brandy. "We all know how obsessively the triplets have been searching for their mate. If they truly believed it was you, they would be draped at your feet, not making themselves scarce."

A slow, cold smile spread across my lips. "They are simply a more complex puzzle than the others. I enjoy the challenge. I relish the feeling of conquering great men."

It is what I was bred for, trained for from my first breath. My beauty and my intellect are the twin blades I have used to carve a path to power for the Valois name, elevating us to the third most powerful supernatural lineage.

I have eliminated every obstacle in our way, every rival who dared stand too tall. The K-trios will be no different.

"But this time," I purred, the vision crystal clear in my mind, "I’m not just eliminating them. I’m keeping them. I want them as my ultimate trophies. I want to show the world how the great Vexxon brothers kneel to lick my feet and obey my every command."

My father gave a final, approving nod. "Just ensure that if you see any sign of another woman drawing their interest, you eliminate the problem. Immediately. We cannot have any foul play interfering with our plans to conquer the Vexxons too."

"You don’t have to tell me twice," I said, my voice dripping with icy promise.

The servant, having finished, bowed their head and scurried away.

I stood up. "I’m returning to the Vexxon estate. I’ve lingered here long enough."

My father gave a dismissive wave, already turning his attention to other matters as he left the sunroom. My phone chimed, and I saw it was my personal assistant, Mr. Carson.

I answered, bringing the phone to my ear. "Speak."

"I have gathered more information on the woman from the Vexxon estate," Carson’s voice was clipped, professional. "Her name is Eleanor moore, from the Moore family. She has been involved in several... notable events lately."

My interest, though reluctant, was piqued. "Such as?"

"She was present at the Serpent’s Kiss during the incident. She was one of the three women on-site when Mr. Hans’s men were killed by the rogues."

My steps faltered. "What? How is that possible?" The image of that meek, trembling mouse flashed in my mind. It was laughable.

"The official statement from all three women claims they were merely defending themselves and that the rogues inexplicably turned on their pursuers," Carson continued.

"That makes no sense," I snapped, my mind racing. "They’re lying. A human couldn’t survive that, let alone influence a rogue’s behavior. Someone else must have intervened." But who? The only witnesses were those three women. Including her.

"There’s more, ma’am," Carson interjected. "I believe I know why they lied. All three women have officially registered to become riders for the Vexxon Raiders."

The air left my lungs. The Vexxon Raiders.

Which meant those women... that mouse... was not human.

But that was impossible. I was in the same room with her. I scrutinized her. Her aura was dull, her scent completely, utterly human. There was not a single trace of power, of animal, of other. How could she have hidden it?

"You’ve done well," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "Dig deeper. I want to know everything about this Eleanor Moore."

"Of course."

The line went dead. I stood alone, the silence pressing in. That insignificant, silver-haired creature was not what she appeared to be. She had somehow deceived my senses.

She would be one among a pack of mongrels, scrambling for scraps of glory on that cursed track. It would not bring her any closer to the K-trios; if anything, it would place her firmly beneath their notice, a mere asset in their corporate game.

So why? Why would a creature who went to such lengths to appear weak and unremarkable suddenly thrust herself into the spotlight? It made no strategic sense unless her goal was something—or someone—else entirely.

A flicker of pure irritation, hot and sharp, cut through me. Why was I even wasting a single neuron on this? She was a non-entity, a speck of dust on the lens of my ambitions. The fact that she had managed to draw my attention, however briefly, was an insult in itself. It was... annoying.

I needed to understand her game, unravel her pathetic little scheme, and then dismantle it piece by piece.