Mr Ceo's Pregnant Ex-wife-Chapter 148 - TRESPASSING

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Chapter 148 - TRESPASSING

Great! Just great. I stared at my reflection in the mirror with growing exasperation.

I looked exactly like a robber clad in sinister black clothes from a crime movie I watched a long time ago.

It was the third time I checked my reflection on the full length mirror but I couldn't get enough. I wonder if this was only a dream. If it is…. I want to wake up from this nightmare right now before all hell breaks loose.

My pulse jittered, beads of sweet formed on my temples, and my palms turned to ice as I stared at myself. I did not sign up for this fate. But there's no other option but to continue.

I couldn't turn back when things were just about to start.

There's no escaping tonight, my fate has been sealed. This is a do or die situation. I must do this for Ace. And whatever happens, I must at least do my best to escape alive.

I secured my long, inky hair into a ponytail before picking up the gloves on top of the table and slid it into my fingers. Wearing gloves is a must tonight to make sure that no fingerprints would be left behind the scene.

You can do it Phoenix! I cheered myself up before picking up my bonnet and putting it on. f𝗿𝗲e𝒘e𝚋n૦𝘃𝙚𝑙.com

A soft knock sounded on the door of the room I'm staying in. "Come in." I said and waited for it to open.

Entering inside the room was Catherine Grace, fully clothed in a black. Even the flat shoes she wore were in the shade of charcoal. She already put her gloves and bonnet on.

"Are you ready?" She asked, surveying me from head to toe before adding, "Gosh! You looked good in black." Her compliment spread warmth on my cheeks.

But not as good as you, I thought to myself while surveying her from head to toe. I never thought that black could be so elegant. Catherine Grace could wear any shades she desires and still look good on it without even trying.

"Thank you," I replied after I recovered. "You looked as if you're going to ramp on a runway rather than about to ransack a dangerous man's place. I commented in which she only smiled as if she found my words humorous.

"Shall we go, Phoenix?" She asked, this time pulling a straight face void of humor.

I look one last time at my reflection in the mirror before walking towards the door.

"Let's go before I change my mind."

***

Greyson Mansion stood proud and tall under the scenic dotted night sky. Looking at the place I spent five years of my life triggered nostalgic memories racing through my thoughts.

Now that I regain most of my memories after I hit my head on the rough pavement the day Vince attacked me I remember how the place looks like before and I could say the Mansion looks the same to me from the outside. I wonder if it was still the same on the inside.

I motioned for Catherine Grace to follow me on the back of the house where a door was located. The pathway was clad in total darkness, if it weren't for the faint light from the moonlight it would be difficult to move across the pebbled part of the lawn.

For some reason there were no guards deployed tonight except for the two armed men posted at the main gates. We entered the house by climbing on the high walls. We landed on the lawn and crept all the way until we reached the house.

From crouching beneath the statue, I straightened after making sure no one was around. The gush of cold wind blowing past me suddenly made me shiver despite the leather jacket I wore. I wonder if it's some kind of omen telling me to stop and run out of here.

I took a deep breath and ran to the door. When I reached for the knob, it was locked. I stepped aside and gave way to my companion.

Catherine Grace was the expert here. If lock picking has a level, she would be sitting on the highest rank.

Click! 𝒇𝘳ℯℯ𝚠𝙚𝑏𝗻𝑜ѵ𝑒𝙡.co𝑚

The door opened. My eyes widened in surprise. That was fast. I thought it would take her another five minutes to force the lock open.

Catherine motioned me to go inside first. I know the location of every room and I know a bunch of hiding places in case someone is awake at this hour.

My eyebrows scrunched in confusion when my gaze landed on the dark kitchen. If it weren't for the light coming from the glass window, the inside would be barely visible.

Strange. The kitchen lights in the mansion are always left open. I couldn't help but wonder why it was turned off now.

I opened the kitchen door and tiptoed to the foyer then up the staircase that would lead me to the second floor where Angela's body was found dead.

At this point, as I crept into the long dark corridors, I realized that all the lights inside the mansion are turned off just like a scene straight from a horror movie where the trespassers stumble upon a dead body inside a room and lying in a pool of blood. I wonder if I would accidentally trip on a dead body lying on the floor…. Hopefully not.

A shiver suddenly ran down my spine when I finally reached the door of the room where Angela was found dead. It was warmer inside the house but I wonder where the sudden chill came from.

I took a deep breath and turned the knob. It won't open.

I wordlessly looked at Catherine Grace. As if she understood what I meant,?she nodded and I stepped aside.

There was a soft click and then the door opened. She raised her head to me and I gave her a thumbs up signaling her to enter first. She tiptoed inside the room and I followed behind her.

The disconcerting silence welcomed my senses the moment I stepped inside. The room was shrouded in darkness to the point that I couldn't see a thing inside. The heavy drapes covered the window allowing not the flicker of moonlight to get in.

I made a beeline straight to the floor to ceiling window and pulled the heavy drapes aside so the moonlight could illuminate the room.

The fact that I'm standing in the same room where Angela was stabbed to death was enough to make me uncomfortable.

I found myself taking a sudden intake of breath while my eyes surveyed the room.

The fancy canopied bed was still there and the only thing that made it different was the light pink bedsheet.?Beside the bed a wooden night table stood, on top of it there was still the lampshade I bought two years ago.

"Phoenix? A moment here please." My gaze shifted to the darkest side of the room where Catherine Grace stood. I slowly made my way?to hers and narrowed my eyes to see what she's closely looking at.

For the first time since I arrived there, my curiosity was roused because I am looking at something which wasn't there before—a painting! It was brand new.

The painting is of a young woman lying on the floor, her beautiful white dress soaked with her own blood. Kneeling beside her is a much older woman with a sinister smile on her crimson lips and holding a knife in her hand.

A sudden uncomfortable feeling descended on me. Chills began to run down my spine as my eyes surveyed the painting.

I swallowed hard. I tried to take my eyes off the painting but I just couldn't.

Is the painting some kind of message?

I took a deep breath then released it into a deep sigh. My chest felt so damn heavy after looking at the painting.

Catherine and I looked at each other.

"Did you bring the flash light?" She asked very quietly.

I nodded and fished a flashlight the size?of my thumb from my pocket. After turning it on, I focused the light on the painting only to gasp in shock when the drawing was clearly exposed.

The young woman lying in the pool of blood looked like Angela. While the older woman holding a knife in her hand with a sinister smile on her lips looked like Samantha—Vince's mother.

The words 'St. James' were written on the bottom.

The sound of footsteps approaching alerted our senses. It was followed by the sound of a key inserted into the lock.

Catherine Grace and I were left with no time to speak.

I turned the flashlight off and together we ran to the silk curtains and pulled it close then concealed ourselves behind just before the door opened and Samanatha entered.

I thank the heavens for making the curtain so thick that it was enough to keep us hidden. I took a deep breath and released a deep sigh as I listened to the footsteps.