Try Begging Novel - Chapter 31

The sky was ablaze with the hues of sunset when Sally returned to the annex, pulling a cart laden with clean laundry. Today, the sky seemed particularly blood-red, perhaps because another ‘guest’ was due in the torture chamber.

“Phew…”

As if it wasn’t enough that it was her last day and there was so much to do, the laundry maids wouldn’t let Sally go. They’d started their chatter with reluctant goodbyes, then, as the conversation wore on, they’d tried to pry into her rumored affair with Winston. An hour of playing the naive, pathetic maid who’d been toyed with by a noble gentleman had utterly drained her.

Sally pushed the cart up the ramp at the annex entrance, ticking off her remaining tasks.

Just organize the laundry, then I’ll have to go down to the basement. I need to find out if a ‘guest’ has arrived at the torture chamber, and who it is, then inform Jimmy directly. And I must secretly call Fred and warn him.

After dinner, she would go up to the maid’s room, check her packed bags one last time, and then sleep. That would be it.

Then, tomorrow morning, before sunrise, she would wake up and head to the back gate of the mansion. She had arranged to catch a ride on the milk delivery wagon to Hailwood.

From there, she’d take a tram to Winsford and then a train. Just in case, she wouldn’t go straight home but planned to stop for a day in ‘Sally Bristol’s’ hometown.

Perhaps I should think of it as a long-awaited vacation.

It would likely be a rural village with less to see than here, but at least she’d be able to breathe freely.

And then, in two or three days, I’ll finally meet Jimmy.

Then she could finally shed the troublesome name, Sally Bristol. Forever.

“Oh!”

Suddenly, the cart was yanked forward. She stumbled, and someone burst out from behind the cart, thrusting an arm out in front of Sally.

In an instant, her waist was encircled, and she was trapped in a man’s embrace. She didn’t need to look up to know the owner of this sharp cigar scent.

“Captain, stop it.”

The more she struggled, the tighter Winston held her, as if to crush her waist. She’d thought he’d let her go easily. Just as she bent her right leg back, about to kick his left shin, Winston released her.

“You really fight well, as if you’ve had some training.”

She glared at him as he chuckled, then reached for the cart. But her hand didn’t reach it. Winston took Sally’s hand as if they were lovers, then gestured with his chin to the soldiers standing behind the cart.

“Let go of me.”

As the soldiers pulled the cart away, Sally twisted her hand. Winston, instead, forced her fingers apart and intertwined them, acting slyly.

“We’ve even kissed, so holding hands is fine, isn’t it?”

Sally flinched as Winston brought up the moment she had tried so hard to erase from her mind.

“…My hands are busy.”

“It’s fine. You have somewhere to go with me.”

Sally was dragged into the annex, demanding, “Where? Surely not your bed, Captain?”

Winston looked down at Sally, snorting. “My bed is too good for you.”

His blatant condescension genuinely offended her. When she stopped, Winston softened his sly expression and looked down at Sally.

“We’re going to my office. I’ve prepared a farewell gift for Miss Sally Bristol, who has diligently fulfilled her duties.”

What trick is this now?

It was an old tradition for the Winston family to give a small farewell gift to departing employees. However, it was also tradition not to give gifts to employees who had caused trouble and been fired.

So, is Winston preparing it himself? Could he actually have liked me? No, that can’t be. Who would treat a woman they liked so rudely?

Sally’s mind buzzed as she was led up the stairs by him.

I hope it’s money. For the war chest.

But recalling his eccentricities, she also thought it couldn’t be a normal item.

At the office, soldiers stood guard at the door. It was always like this, but today it felt particularly uncomfortable. They all seemed to be staring intently. Sally figured they were imagining strange things again because of what happened in the library, so she met their pointed gazes.

“Go in.”

One soldier immediately opened the office door, and Winston, like a gentleman, stepped aside and gestured inside. Sally stopped dead in her tracks. If she went in, she would be alone with Winston.

“I’ll take the gift in the hallway.”

She stood with her hands clasped, looking up at Winston. He stared at her for a moment with a look of amusement, just as he had when she’d sarcastically asked if they were going to his bed, then sneered at the soldiers in the hallway.

“She’s a high-class lady, so she’s picky.”

Winston let out a light laugh, and the soldiers awkwardly lifted and lowered the corners of their mouths. He placed a hand on Sally’s shoulder, who was glaring at him with puffed-out cheeks.

“I’ll leave the door open. Is that enough?”

With that coaxing remark, he entered alone. Only after Winston stood by his desk, far from the door, did Sally unstick her feet from the hallway.

Inside, Sally was horrified.

What kind of party did he have in broad daylight?

The room was a mess. Whiskey bottles and several crystal glasses were scattered on the coffee table. The ashtray, which had been emptied that morning, was already overflowing with ash.

Surely this mess isn’t the gift.

“Where’s the gift?”

She intended to simply receive it, offer thanks, and leave. As she stood in the center of the office, Winston’s eyes indicated a flat, wide box on the desk. The box was tied with a black ribbon.

“I don’t need any more stockings.”

“Stockings?”

Winston, leaning against the fireplace with his arms crossed, scoffed. “It’ll be a gift you’ll never forget, beyond compare.”

Sally approached and picked up the box, frowning. What a twisted sense of humor. What she had thought was a black ribbon was actually a very thin black rope.

To tie a farewell gift with rope from the torture chamber’s cabinet. Disgusted, Sally picked up the box and immediately turned to leave.

“Thank you for the meaningful gift.”

She curtsied slightly, like a lady, to the madman wearing a gentleman’s mask, and started to leave, but Winston’s arm blocked her path.

“Not so fast.”

Sally stopped just before his arm touched her chest and looked up at him. Winston was smiling broadly, as if greatly amused.

“Don’t you think about the pleasure of the giver? I’m dying to see your expression when you finally realize what gift I’ve painstakingly prepared.”

His smile looked sinister. Had there been a day recently when he hadn’t worn such a smile? He seemed to have put something quite mischievous in the box.

Just one last time, I’ll play along.

Sally sighed and untied the black rope right there. She faced Winston, as he wanted to see her expression.

Her hand, opening the box, paused. Inside was something she had never imagined.

A single yellow file.

There was no name written on the outside, so she couldn’t tell what was inside. Sally looked up at Winston with a puzzled expression.

“Go on, open it.”

He urged her, his eyes crinkling softly with a smile. She felt a sudden churning in her stomach.

“Is it a letter of recommendation?”

It suddenly occurred to her that he had promised her a letter of recommendation that would allow her to find work anywhere.

“Well, not wrong.” Winston’s lips twisted for a moment. “I wrote it myself to send you to a place befitting you.”

She didn’t need a new job. Sally folded the box lid underneath and lifted the corner of the file with her fingernail. The moment she turned the thick paper, three short words seized Sally’s gaze.

[Alias: Little Riddle]

Her breath caught.

Why would he give this to me?

In Sally’s mind, reason and intuition instantly screamed a red alert.

Danger. Run. No, it’s too late.

The moment she moved her feet from here, it was over. Running was as good as confessing.

There might still be a way out. This must just be Winston’s typical cross-examination.

Perhaps he was still guessing, without certainty. To survive this, she had to find a gap in his information and exploit it.

“What is this?”

She feigned ignorance. Feigned annoyance at being given such a strange gift. She asked petulantly, but the man facing her was shrouded in a deep, abyssal black from neck to toe, exuding only a sinister aura.

She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Sally calmly read down the document.

[Special Notes: Last Rebel of the Riddle Family]
[Charges: Infiltration of major military facilities, leakage of military classified information, leading the attack on Govern…]

Govern? Please…

[Skin Color: [Unknown Light]]
[Hair Color: Unknown Brown]
[Eye Color: Unknown Teal]
[Age: Unknown 26]
[Surname: Riddle]

As she traced back up the white paper, sparsely marked with black letters, the blood drained from her fingertips holding the paper.

No…

All the information listed as unknown had been corrected. And all of it was accurate.

[Known Alias: Sally Bristol]
[Name: Unknown Grace]

Sally—no, Grace’s—heart plummeted as she confirmed the final piece of information, written with suppressed fury.

How did he know my name…?

There was no blank. No loophole to escape.

This man knew everything. How? Where? Who on earth!

The moment Grace’s thoughts stopped, Winston’s body moved swiftly. He pressed himself tightly against her back. His heart, like a wild beast, pounded against her, as if to crush her body. Just as his large hand, soon to be stained with her blood, reached forward and gripped her neck, Grace squeezed her eyes shut.

With the sound of a holster unfastening, a hard gun muzzle pressed against her lower back. Winston’s lips, dry and cracked with rage, brushed against Grace’s ear.

“Goodbye, Sally Bristol.”

A chilling kiss descended, and a sweet whisper pierced her ear.

“Welcome, Grace Riddle.”