My Anti-hero Fairy System-Chapter 87. Château Chesney

Reginald got behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove off. The ride was smooth, smoother than any she’d ever had. In just fifteen minutes, they arrived at Kyle’s house: a sprawling mansion designed like a French château, a palace in its own right.

As she took in the breathtaking estate, memories flooded back, of being here before, of a life that once felt like a dream. It took almost ten minutes to reach the downstairs balcony, where Kyle stood waiting, dressed in a maroon polo shirt and beige pants.

Reginald pulled up in front of the balcony and immediately stepped out to open the door for Cara. She suppressed an eye roll, thinking how unnecessary the gesture was—her hands worked just fine.

She stepped out of the car as Kyle approached, his signature smirk in place. "Good morning, darling."

Cara read his mind instantly. He was testing her, calling her darling to see if she had regained her memories, since that’s what he used to call her before she died. She would have called him sweetie in return back then.

"Good morning, Kyle. I’m not ready to call you sweetie yet," she said with a teasing smile.

He chuckled, took her hand, and kissed it. "You look absolutely gorgeous, darling. How was the ride over?"

"It was smooth, though I wasn’t expecting a chauffeur," she replied.

Kyle grinned. "I wanted to treat you like a princess, one who’s definitely going to be my queen. That’s why I sent Reginald instead of letting you take a taxi. Especially since you still refuse to get a car."

He held her hand gently, his gaze steady and intense. Cara shifted uncomfortably, looking away. "You could have picked me up yourself."

"I wanted to," Kyle admitted, "but I had some urgent business to take care of. Come on, let’s go inside."

He led her into the mansion, where the lavish interior was just as she remembered, immaculately crafted luxury at its finest. The maids, dressed in neatly pressed uniforms, moved with the precision and grace of five-star hotel staff.

As Cara took in the surroundings, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over her. Kyle, meanwhile, kept stealing glances at her, the look in his eyes unmistakable, he was still completely smitten.

Once they reached the sitting room, Cara asked, "Where’s your mother? I was hoping to see her."

Kyle’s expression darkened. "My mother isn’t doing well at the moment. In fact, she’s not doing well at all."

Concern flickered across Cara’s face. "What happened to Donna?"

Kyle exhaled, his voice quieter this time. "She has ALS. She didn’t tell me until it got worse."

Cara focused on his face, searching for any sign of deception, but found none. "I’m so sorry... Is there any chance she can fight it?"

Kyle shook his head. "No. I put her through clinical trials, but none of them have helped. Now, all we can do is keep her comfortable for however long she has left." His tone was calm, but there was an underlying weight to his words.

Memories of Donna flooded Cara’s mind, how cruel the woman had been, how she had wanted Ashley to be her daughter-in-law instead, dismissing Cara as nothing more than a low-class, gold-digging whore.

And yet, despite everything, Cara felt an unexpected pang of pity for the dying woman.

"I want to see her, even if it’s for the last time. Where is she?" Cara asked.

Kyle’s expression softened with sorrow as he took her hand and led her down the corridor. They walked in silence until they reached a door. Kyle pushed it open, and Cara stepped inside.

From the entrance, she saw Donna lying frail and withered in bed, her once-imposing presence reduced to a shadow of what it had been. As Cara moved closer, Donna’s weak, sunken eyes met hers. The woman was too feeble to even frown.

Cara sat beside her, placing a gentle hand over Donna’s skeletal fingers, offering a sympathetic look. But as she read the old woman’s mind, Donna’s thoughts were as sharp as ever.

What is this gold-digging bitch doing here, touching me? God, just take me now—this is torture.

Cara smiled, her fingers curling around Donna’s fragile hand. Bringing it to her chest, she murmured, "I’m sure this brings her the comfort she deserves. What a lovely woman."

Donna’s body trembled in frustration, but she was too weak to fight back. Cara, undeterred, simply kept smiling at her.

Kyle, oblivious to the silent battle, watched the exchange and said, "Thank you for being so kind."

Cara turned to him with a sweet smile. "My pleasure."

She glanced back at Donna, whose mind continued hurling silent curses at her. If ALS hadn’t stolen her ability to speak, Cara was certain she’d be getting an earful right now.

Rising from the bed, Cara smoothed down her dress. "I think we should let her rest."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, let’s go back to the sitting room."

She followed him out, leaving Donna fuming in silence.

As soon as they sat down, Kyle changed his mind. "On second thought, let’s go to the dining room."

Without question, Cara followed him, and they settled at the table. Almost instantly, the maids arrived, placing a lavish breakfast spread before them.

"I thought you might be hungry, so I had the chef prepare your favorite, croissants and pineapple juice," Kyle said.

It wasn’t her favorite anymore, but Cara forced a smile, pretending it still was.

"Oh, you shouldn’t have," she said lightly.

"Oh, but I did," Kyle replied, his voice laced with charm.

As she took a bite, something unexpected happened, she realized she did still love croissants and pineapple juice.

Kyle took a sip of his coffee, watching her carefully. "So, you said there was something we needed to discuss. What is it?"

Cara finished her drink, set the glass down, and met his gaze. "I’ve regained my memories, well, most of them. But I still can’t remember what happened that day."

Kyle’s smile widened. "So you remember how much we loved each other?"

She hesitated for only a second. "Yes, I do."

His excitement was palpable. "Does that mean we’re getting back to what we were?"

"Yes, but I want us to take things slow," Cara said carefully. "I’m still figuring myself out. I want us to start fresh, to build something new."

Kyle’s expression faltered slightly, but before he could object, she added, "I want us to have a new and stronger bond, one day at a time."

His shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. "As long as it means you and I will be together, I’m willing to try anything."

Aww. Dude is so obsessed, Cara thought with amusement.

Just then, a stunning blonde walked in, carrying a stack of documents. She wore a crisp white blouse and fitted black pants that accentuated her moderate but memorable curves.

"Sir, I have all the documents you requested," she announced smoothly.

But the moment her piercing blue eyes landed on Cara, she froze, just for a split second, before regaining composure. "Good morning, ma’am. You must be Cara Bolton?"

Cara studied her carefully. "Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Francesca Hayes. I’m Mr. Chesney’s assistant," she said, but there was something off, an uneasiness in her posture, a flicker of guilt in her gaze as she tried to avoid direct eye contact.

[This must be the assistant Kyle slept with the day after you died.] Hagrit chimed in.

’She definitely is. And honestly? I don’t blame him, this girl is gorgeous.’

Cara’s lips curved into a knowing smile as Francesca placed the documents in front of Kyle, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Francesca. I’ll see you at the office," Kyle said, a little too quickly, as if eager to dismiss her.

"Okay, sir," Francesca replied, turning to leave, only for Cara to stop her.

"Since you’re already here, would you mind joining us for breakfast?"

Both Francesca and Kyle snapped their heads toward each other, identical looks of shock crossing their faces.

[What are you doing?]

’I’m having fun.’

"Thanks for the offer, ma’am, but I have a lot to do at the office," Francesca said politely.

"Yes, she has a packed schedule today. Maybe she can join us some other time," Kyle quickly added, backing her up.

Cara studied them both, amused by their synchronized reactions. "Alright, Francesca. Go ahead. Till we meet again."

Francesca wasted no time leaving, and Cara casually returned to her breakfast.

’I have my eyes on that bitch.’

[Is she going to be your next conquest?]

’No, not yet. I’ll go for her when I’m a man again. Which means I need to find out what Kyle is planning and destroy it before something catastrophic happens—as soon as possible.’

Kyle’s gaze drifted to Cara’s fingers, his expression thoughtful. "There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, but it keeps slipping my mind."

Cara glanced up. "Okay, ask me now."

Kyle’s eyes lingered on her hands. "Do you still have the engagement ring I gave you? You were wearing it the day you died."