Chương 137: Chapter 136 – Little Birdies Flying High

Anita had made her escape from the stifling heat of the ballroom. The waltz music, while technically beautiful, was beginning to grate on her nerves. Every sweeping note felt like another thread tightening around her chest. She needed a breath of fresh air, a moment to gather her thoughts away from the forced smiles and polite chatter. The manicured gardens beckoned, their cool night air a welcome respite from the suffocating warmth inside.

She stepped out onto the stone terrace, the sudden quiet washing over her like a balm. The night sky stretched above her, deep and velvety, dotted with faint stars. She followed the winding path until she found a secluded alcove hidden behind a fragrant trellis of jasmine. The blossoms glowed pale in the moonlight, their scent sweet and calming. The moon cast long, silvery shadows across the garden, creating an illusion of privacy.

Anita leaned against a stone bench, letting the coolness seep through the thin fabric of her gown. It was here, in the hush of the garden, that she overheard the hushed conversation. A faint scent of skunky weed drifted through the air, sharp and unmistakable. She rolled her eyes at the juvenile gossip as the two women passed the joint between them, their giggles muffled behind cupped hands. Two women, their voices low and conspiratorial, whispered not quite softly enough.

Anita recognized them vaguely as the wives of two of Mordak's associates. She didn't know their names. They had met in passing, exchanging the usual polite greetings and superficial pleasantries. She had no intent of eavesdropping, but found herself frozen, unable to move without drawing attention. Shit, she thought. Way to go, Anita. You've really outdone yourself this time.

Now not only will you be known as that poor woman with the raging alcoholic for a husband, but the creepy woman who hides in bushes listening in on private conversations. If her heart had not been pounding so fast from adrenaline, she might have found herself rolling in the grass laughing hysterically. What else can go wrong? she asked herself. Up until that point she had only been half listening to the disjointed conversation between the pair.

Something had subconsciously caught her attention, causing her to instinctually move closer to the hedge.

"…I just feel so terrible for Marcy and Reginald," one of them murmured. Her voice was laced with a mixture of sympathy and apprehension. Marcy and Reginald? Anita mouthed silently. She knew those names.

"It's awful," the other woman agreed, her tone equally hushed.

"Absolutely awful. What Viola did was… vicious." Anita frowned slightly, her curiosity sharpening. What had Viola done that these two, of all people, would consider vicious?

"Poor Marcy was practically inconsolable," the first woman continued.

"I thought she was going to have a meltdown right there on the sidewalk." She sighed.

"I know they adored those children, and for them to be taken away… I can't even imagine. But to make such a spectacle? I mean really, have some dignity, will you?"

"Was that before or after the house? I forget," one woman asked the other. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Well, how were they going to pay the mortgage after Reginald lost his job…"

"All because of that… that Swan Incident," the second woman said, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

"I still can't believe Mordak would do something so… brutal." The Swan Incident. Anita's brow furrowed. The phrase sparked a flicker of unease, a sense that she was missing a crucial piece of information. She knew Viola had some prized swans that swam around his golf course. She knew something had happened, but no one had ever told her what. Now might be her chance to find out.

"I heard he just lost it," the first woman said, shaking her head sadly.

"Apparently, they wouldn't stay out of the way when he was trying to make his shot. From what Reginald said to Marcy, it was just brutal. He just kept hitting them with the club over and over. The male was trying to protect his mate… it was awful."

"And Reginald just happened to have the misfortune of being there," the second woman finished, her tone filled with implication.

"It could have been anyone's husband, really. I just hate it when he takes mine to that place." She scoffed.

"Wrong place, wrong time. And the wrong wife, apparently."

"Exactly!" the first woman agreed.

"I mean, it's bad enough that Reginald told her what happened, but for her to go running to Viola like that, giving her the I am so sorry for your loss, your husband is such a horrible man, it was just a golf game! He shouldn't have done that to Princess Petula or Prince whatever his name was." She huffed.

"She thought she was so smart trying to make points. Well, that backfired on her now, didn't it?" The conversation paused for a moment, and Anita held her breath, fearing discovery. Her pulse thudded in her ears. Then one of the women spoke again, her voice now carrying a note of genuine concern.

"It makes you wonder, doesn't it? About us. What if we were to cross them? What if our husbands… made a mistake?"

"Don't even say it," the other woman replied, her voice filled with fear.

"I've been having nightmares about it. That's why I'm always so careful, so agreeable. I can't risk it. I just can't." Another long silence settled between them. Then one woman murmured, "I just hope the same thing doesn't happen to Anita. You know, with Jethro acting the way he did tonight, maybe this will all come crashing down around her head." The other woman nodded somberly.

"It's terrible to think that poor Anita was so close to making it into the inner circle."

"I know, right?" she said.

"I wouldn't want to be in her shoes right now. We should get back before we're missed."

"Just one more hit," the other replied before inhaling sharply.

"You got any perfume on you?"

"Of course!" she laughed. Anita could smell the expensive perfume mixing with and then masking the skunky weed smell. A chill ran down her spine. She stood wide eyed and silent, holding her breath. Their words echoed in the stillness of the garden, each one a hammer blow to her carefully constructed facade. The Swan Incident. The loss of the children. The financial ruin. It was all linked, all driven by Viola's wrath and Mordak's hand.

And now, these women were suggesting that the same fate could await her and Jethro. What kind of man was Mordak? She felt a sudden wave of nausea. The safety she thought she had found, the security she had worked so hard for, all felt like a fragile illusion. She was trapped, like a fly caught in a spider's web, and Mordak and Viola were the spiders. And Jethro… Jethro might just have given them the perfect opportunity to strike. The very thought made her stomach churn with dread.

The wine from dinner sloshed uneasily. The women started moving again, away from Anita's hiding spot, their voices fading into the distance. Anita remained frozen, her mind reeling. The garden, which had moments ago felt like a sanctuary, now felt like a prison. She had to know. She had to know the details of this Swan Incident. She had to understand the true extent of Mordak and Viola's power, the depths of their potential ruthlessness. Lost in thought, she had not heard the footsteps that had come up behind her.