Silas's visit was even more fleeting than Tess had anticipated. He arrived like a toxic wind, flanked by two menacing grey wolves, before barking coldly at the bodyguards: "Finish that bastard off this time—blood must be paid with blood."
The thick murderous intent and the extreme tension etched into Silas's face sent a shiver down the spine of the accompanying guard, whose voice wavered and broke as he replied. Tess stood frozen in the shadows. Compared to their previous encounter, she never expected this powerful man to be so dangerously on edge, like a bowstring stretched to its breaking point.
But what caught her even more off guard was Silas suddenly asking about her:
— "How has she been lately?"
— "Sir, according to Kane's report, she is performing well, though she's still clumsy at times. Her attitude shows nothing unusual or defiant."
— "Fine. I'll come by this weekend to see her and her work for myself."
That wave of information made Tess's chest tighten, her heart hammering so violently it felt suffocating. The moment Silas turned to leave, the cinematic reels of her memory shifted abruptly. Tess stood frozen in the space, her breath coming in shallow gasps, unable to soothe the mounting restlessness regarding the fateful encounter ahead. She told herself: If this is an opportunity, I must seize it with everything I have.
At the same time, Tess's curiosity about Vena continued to swell. Why had she kept Tess's emotional turbulence a secret from Kane? Was it out of deep-seated indifference, or was she actually offering silent support? If it was help, what was the ultimate goal? Tess knew a serious confrontation with Vena was inevitable, but that was a story for another day. For now, she chose to prioritize the present and grasp the opportunity slowly coming into view.
In the days that followed, Tess's silhouette appeared in the greenhouse more frequently than ever. She used every method possible to probe and extract memories of Silas through the animals, desperate to sketch a portrait of his preferences and his standards in women. Her persistence finally bore fruit; though the information wasn't abundant, Tess began to form a vague realization of the kind of person who might actually catch Silas's eye.
On Friday night, beneath the pale yellow glow of her lamp, Tess hurriedly scribbled every detail into her diary to ensure nothing was lost. A year ago, Silas had shown extraordinary favor toward a lover around Tess's age, even gifting her a wolf from the greenhouse—an unprecedented privilege that had stunned even his most trusted bodyguards. That girl possessed a scholarly, gentle, and simple aura; she was a kind and sensible soul amidst the parade of glamorous but loud mistresses who had passed through his life.
Tess analyzed that Silas's weakness lay in elegance, silence, and knowing how to please. Time was short and the information remained sketchy, but she was certain that a man like Silas could never truly love an ordinary woman. Any such "favor" was merely the fleeting conquest instinct of a predator, destined to wither quickly. To avoid being discarded by such a man, the only way was to make him spend a lifetime trying to conquer her. This was exactly what the books on seduction in the library had taught her.
On Sunday morning, Tess awoke while the mist had yet to dissipate. With her inherently simple attire, there was no need for elaborate preparation; she focused solely on bathing and ensuring her appearance was impeccable and polished. Though she wore only the most modest garments, Tess's natural beauty was enough to draw every gaze. She was entirely confident in the weapon that was her appearance.
Tess timed her descent downstairs perfectly, arriving just as Silas was expected. She knew he was a suspicious man, so everything had to be flawless to leave no room for doubt. He would have no evidence to be skeptical; he could only perceive this as a mere coincidence of fate. And just as Tess had precisely calculated, she crossed paths with Silas right at the grand entrance of the greenhouse.
Silas paused for a beat when he saw Tess appear; a flash of surprise flickered in his eyes but was quickly replaced by his customary composure. With a subtle wave of his hand, he signaled the bodyguards to step away, leaving the two of them to enter the tranquil space of the greenhouse alone. The guards exchanged glances—a look pregnant with implication, as if they had long foreseen something about to transpire between the two. Even Vena, who usually maintained an expressionless facade, stood frozen in place. Her eyes followed their retreating figures, deep and heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Inside the greenhouse, the air was thick with the scent of greenery and the dampness of earth. Silas was in no hurry to speak; he strolled leisurely through the lush green aisles, while Tess followed silently behind, maintaining just enough distance to feel the invisible pressure radiating from him.
"This place seems well-cared for. At least you're more useful than the previous butler," Silas began, his low voice echoing in the enclosed space.
"Because I understand this is a place you cherish, sir," Tess replied softly, her eyes lowered in a perfectly disciplined manner.
Silas stopped abruptly and turned toward her. His sharp eyes made no effort to hide a rising flicker of interest. He moved closer, stopping at such a proximity that his breath brushed against her skin.
"You seem to have filled out since your promotion," Silas remarked, his gaze traveling slowly over her body like a hunter evaluating his prey. "When I first saw you at this villa, you looked truly haggard."
Tess remained composed, responding in a voice that was gentle yet steeped in respect: "Every change you see, sir, is thanks to the grace you have shown me."
Silas curled his lip slightly, his smile carrying a hint of both irony and warning. He took another step forward, closing the meager space left between them, his voice turning cold and laden with subtext: "But make no mistake, Tess. If you are angling for more than what you currently have, the answer is no. I am only looking at you because I find it momentarily amusing. Think very carefully about your place."
Tess did not flinch at his bluntness. She looked up, meeting his gaze with eyes that were clear yet steadfast, and replied skillfully: "Sir, I have never dared to dream of such luxuries. For me, being allowed to stay here, to tend to this place, and to occasionally receive your attention is already a profound privilege. My existence serves only to repay your kindness; beyond my sincerest gratitude, I seek no status and harbor no demands for myself."
Silas lightly stroked her cheek. "Are you truly that obedient? Then, what do you intend to give me?"
Tess gently pressed his hand against her cheek. "Whatever you desire, sir."
Silas let out a delighted laugh. Then, he turned away. "I will come for you in a few days. Do not disappoint me."
Before departing, Silas walked over to pat the wolves' heads, then handed Tess a key. He flashed her a meaningful smile and left. Tess was burning with curiosity about what the key unlocked, then remembered a certain locked wooden door in the library—one that neither Vena nor Kane would reveal anything about. Could it be that this was the secret place Silas used for his personal "amusements"?
Tess felt a mix of nerves and apprehension, but no joy. She felt as though she had just embarked on a perilous journey that allowed for zero margin of error. The fact that connecting with Silas had been so quick and effortless left her uncertain of her next move.