Chapter 110: Then my gift became their plan.
Evelyn’s residence was not far from the heart of the city.
That surprised Lucian a little, he expected her to live somewhere far away, away from the people’s eyes. A mansion on a hill maybe? A private estate behind endless trees or anything like that.
Instead, her home was in a quiet, expensive residential district, surrounded by tall walls, old trees, and enough visible security to make any normal stalker think twice.
And as their car moved through these streets, Evelyn, who was sitting beside Lucian, looked outside the window with a light smile on her face.
Lucian watched her in silence.
Home.
It really did mean something to her.
He noticed it and that put a light smile on his face.
The car stopped near the front entrance.
Alaric stepped out first, his eyes moved across the building, the windows, the roof, the guards, the walls. Clara followed with her tablet in her hand, the rest who came from other cars appeared as well.
Lucian stepped out and as always, after giving the surroundings one brief look, he turned back and extended his hand towards her.
Evelyn smiled and took the hand.
"Welcome home, Miss Starling."
"Thank you."
Evelyn looked at her house with a nostalgic look on her face. It hadn’t been many days since she left, but to her, it felt like years had passed.
And considering everything that happened to her, such a feeling wasn’t surprising.
The group entered through the main door, Lucian looked around with a curious look on his face.
Pale walls, polished wooden floors, a long mirror, and fresh flowers placed on a side table. There were awards displayed on one wall, photographs lined on the wall, some were from concerts, some were with charity groups, some were taken professionally with perfect lighting and smiles.
"This looks... different."
Evelyn muttered.
She was told that they would be making some changes in her house due to security reasons and she could see it, some of the sections she was seeing weren’t there before.
Clara nodded at her words, then, she gave her a brief report.
"Yes, we have changed the structure of the Hall and made some changes in the living room, dining room, and the guest rooms, the west study has been converted into a control room, the basement level is restricted for staff.
But your bedroom and private areas have not been disturbed beyond necessary security work."
"And... the music room?"
Evelyn questioned in a low voice and Clara—
"That remains untouched as Miss Starling requested."
Evelyn’s shoulders eased at those words.
"Thank you."
She smiled.
Lucian looked at her.
He could see that her reaction was stronger than normal.
The Music Room.
It must be important.
He noted it in his head.
Alaric on the other hand, started giving orders. The guards moved, the staff members checked rooms. Clara continued updating Evelyn about security procedures, emergency routes, movement limits, and schedule changes.
Evelyn listened politely.
When Clara stepped away to take a call, Evelyn turned towards Lucian and—
"Would you like to see it?"
Lucian blinked.
"See what?"
"The music room."
He stared at her.
"That sounds like a private place."
"It is."
"Then why show me?"
"You are always near my private spaces anyway."
Evelyn answered with a playful look on her face. Lucian laughed out loud.
"That sounds so wrong."
"As if that bothers you."
"Wow, attacking my character now. I am hurt."
Evelyn laughed at those words, then—
"Come."
She walked ahead. Lucian followed.
Because they needed to move today, Clara had cleared most of Evelyn’s schedule, so she had more time than usual. This was also the reason why none of the team members other than Sarah looked as Lucian and Evelyn walked away.
They were more busy with final checks, making sure every single artifact, sensor, ward and other supernatural security measure they had placed was working perfectly.
Lucian and Evelyn on the other hand, walked down a short hallway and stopped in front of a wooden door.
Evelyn walked in, Lucian followed, half expecting to see those fancy artist rooms they show in all those videos, the dramatic lights, the glittering setup, walls that were practically designed for cameras.
But—
He did not find anything like that.
This was just...
A simple room.
There was a black piano near the window, a few guitars rested on stands, there were shelves filled with old notebooks, loose pages, marked sheets of music, books, and small boxes.
The awards here were different, they were... older.
Childhood trophies.
School-level certificates.
A framed photograph of a little girl standing on a stage, holding a microphone too large for her hand.
Another photograph showed a younger Evelyn in a white dress, smiling at an audience.
Lucian looked at that picture and it made him frown.
That smile...
It was perfect.
Too perfect for a child.
It resembled the fake smile Evelyn showed during the interviews and other necessary business interactions.
Evelyn noticed Lucian’s gaze and—
"I was eight there."
She smiled. Lucian looked at her.
"You looked..."
He didn’t know if he should say it.
"Say it."
Evelyn ordered.
"You don’t look... happy in it."
Lucian spoke his mind and Evelyn...
Her smile widened but she didn’t say anything. Lucian noticed that, so he tried to change the topic.
"This room... it feels different."
"Different how?"
Evelyn questioned with a curious look on her face.
"It feels more comfortable."
Evelyn looked at him, then, the fakeness in her smile started to disappear as she walked towards the piano and touched its edge.
"I used to hide here."
"In your own house?"
Lucian raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
Evelyn nodded.
"When I was younger, I thought a music room would feel magical. Like a place where songs were born. A place where I imagined my dreams, applause, lights, all that beautiful nonsense people say in interviews."
She looked at the piano keys.
"For a while, it was like that."
"And then?"
"Then my parents realised I was good."
Evelyn gently pressed one key, a soft sound filled the room.
"I was six when they first realised people reacted differently to my voice. At first, it was sweet. My mother cried when I sang, my father recorded everything with a big encouraging smile. They told everyone their daughter had a gift."
A nostalgic smile appeared on her face as she told everything, as if she could imagine it, but then—
That smile disappeared.
"Then my gift became their plan."
