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You dropped to your knees on the rug, clutching your hands tightly to your chest as you looked up at the ceiling. "Please, God," you whispered, your voice cracking with terror. " Just let me survive until the sirens get here." Rising to your feet, you slipped your bedroom door open and stepped out into the silent corridor. You peered over the grand lower floor. The house was unnaturally quiet, but a faint, rhythmic chopping sound echoed.

You peeked into the kitchen area Margaret was completely occupied, her back turned as she prepared breakfast, her painted fingers holding a large silver knife.This was your only chance. You sprinted silently across the master wing straight to Margaret’s bedroom. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you burst inside, darting directly to her wardrobe. Your hands shook violently as you slid the panel open, reached past the silk scarves, and snatched Eleanor’s personal diary.Clutching it desperately to your chest, you bolted back down the corridor, slipped into your own room, and slammed the deadbolt into place. Breathless and trembling, you collapsed onto the edge of your mattress and yanked the cover open, your eyes scanning the faded, elegant handwriting.

The early pages were filled with heartfelt, beautiful entries about Jungkook. She wrote about his deep, quiet warmth, how fiercely he protected her, and how much they loved each other. It made your chest ache with that familiar, stinging wave of jealousy, but you forced your eyes to keep reading.Next, she wrote about Margaret. Eleanor described how they had become incredibly close friends. She wrote about Margaret’s calm demeanor, her sweet smiles. There were even a few lines about Cecilia how loud, bitter, and difficult she was, but fundamentally harmless.

But as you flipped the pages toward the final week of Eleanor's life, the handwriting became erratic, shaky, and smudged with dried tears. The tone of the diary shifted into a living nightmare.

{October 14th. Margaret found out about the baby today. I thought she would be happy for us, but the look in her eyes made my blood run cold. She didn't shout. She just smiled, that horrifying, empty smile and touched my stomach. Later, I found my bedroom door locked from the outside. She is restricting my movements. She keeps telling me a broken womb cannot allow a whole one to thrive in this house. She thinks if I am gone, Jungkook will belong only to her forever. I tried to tell Kook, but he thinks Margaret is just being protective of my health. He doesn't see the venom behind her calm face. If anyone finds this diary, please know that if I don't survive the week, it was Margaret who shut the lights out.}

The book nearly slipped from your trembling fingers. You turned the page of the diary one last time. What you read blew your mind in sheer, unadulterated terror. Eleanor had written that Margaret wasn't acting alone she had a history of staging accidents in the house, and she had already prepared a quiet burial spot under the old oak tree in the garden.

Bam! Before the horror could even settle into your bones, your bedroom door was violently kicked open. Margaret lunged into the room like a feral animal With a terrifying shriek, she snatched the diary right out of your hands, and she delivered a brutal, stinging slap across your face that knocked you hard onto the floorboards.

"You meddling little bitch!" Margaret hissed, She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a heavy black gun. She click and aimed it directly between your eyes, her hand remarkably steady. "You think you're clever? I know all about it! I knew you saw the diary last day and just like Eleanor, you won't survive the week!"

Meanwhile, the iron gates of the Jeon mansion were violently rammed open. Jungkook had just landed back . Your final, desperate words over the telephone—“Come back when I'll die !”—had completely broken him. He had abandoned his vital European negotiations, boarded the fastest private transit across the Channel, and rushed home. As his black motorcar screeched to a halt on the gravel driveway, he saw a police cars already parked outside, blue lights flashing against the grey brick. Armed officers were already running inside.

"Y/N!" Jungkook roared, throwing his car door open and sprinting past the guards into his own mansion, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

Upstairs in the bedroom, you were on your knees, tears streaming down your face as you looked up at the barrel of the gun. "Margaret, please! Don't do this, I beg of you!" you sobbed, raising your hands in terror.Margaret’s face was stone. "Goodbye, darling."

BANG! The deafening gunshot shattered the air. But you didn't feel the bullet. In a split second of pure, selfless bravery, Cecilia burst through the doorway, sprinting across she lunged directly in front of you, using her own body to block the path of the bullet. The heavy lead projectile tore directly into Cecilia’s chest, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as her blood instantly stained her silk nightgown.

The police force flooded the room, their weapons drawn. Before Margaret could aim the gun a second time, three officers tackled her to the ground, pinning her arms behind her back and yanking the revolver from her. Cecilia’s weak, bloodied body began to tilt, about to collapse heavily onto the hardwood floor. But before she could hit the ground, Jungkook lunged forward. His briefcase dropped, and he caught her securely in his large arms, pulling her tightly against his chest as he dropped to his knees.

"Cece! Cece, look at me!" Jungkook choked out, his chest heaving as his hands instantly became covered in her blood.Cecilia’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze glassy but locking onto his face with a sudden, heartbreaking warmth. A soft, breathless smile touched her lips.

"Handsome..." she whispered, "You're back. I love you, honey. I love you a lot."

"No, no, no," Jungkook sobbed, hot tears finally bursting from his dark eyes, spilling down his cheeks as he held her closer. He had never shown this much vulnerability to anyone since Eleanor, but seeing Cecilia bleeding out for his family completely broke him. "Don't talk like that. Nothing will happen to you, I promise you, Cece. Just stay with me!"

Cecilia shook her head slightly against his shoulder, her breathing turning shallow and ragged. She reached up with a trembling hand to his cheek one last time before looking over at you. "Take care of Y/N... and your child," she whispered, still completely believing the pregnancy lie. She looked back at Jungkook, her voice fading into a final, possessive purr.

"In the next life....I will again become your wife and only me, Koo. Not anyone else."Her hand slipped from his cheek, falling limply onto the carpet. "Cecilia! No!" Jungkook roared in pure agony.Refusing to let her go, he gathered her heavy, pliant body into his arms and lifted her up. He sprinted out of the bedroom, his long coat billowing behind him as he rushed down the grand corridor toward the stairs, entirely bypassing the police and the horrified staff.

You ran right behind him, your heart lodged in your throat. "Cece, wake up, darling!" Jungkook pleaded frantically as he rushed down the grand, sweeping staircase, his voice cracking with a desperate, heavy sorrow. "See, I brought everything you asked for! I have the emerald bracelet! I have the lists! Just don't leave me, please, Cece!"

But halfway down the grand stairs, the final, faint breath escaped Cecilia's lips. Her head lulled heavily against his shoulder, her body completely losing its remaining tension. The sharp, vibrant, and fiercely protective woman who had ruled this house for years was gone.Jungkook froze on the mid-stair landing, the crushing silence of the mansion settling over him his throat as he rocked her back and forth, clutching her body to his chest.

You rushed down the steps and threw yourself over him, wrapping your arms securely around his broad, shaking shoulders, holding him tightly as his tears soaked into your clothes. The mansion felt hollow, haunted by the sudden silence of the woman who had just died to keep you alive.

In the police station Margaret sat behind the iron bars of a dim holding cell. Jungkook stood outside the cell, his tall frame rigid and tense, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. He refused to look her in the eyes, staring blankly at the stone floor as if looking at her would cause him to lose his mind entirely. You stood beside him, clutching your arms around your frame, staring at Margaret with an unexplainable expression ,a suffocating mix of horror, betrayal, and deep, aching sorrow.

"Why?" you finally broke the silence. "Why, Margaret? How could you do all of this?"

Margaret looked up, her expression melting into that same serene, terrifyingly gentle smile she had always given you. She gripped the cold iron bars, "I never faked anything, darling," Margaret murmured, "The love, the maternal care I gave you... it was completely real. I truly loved you, darling. But I love my husband more. I simply couldn't bear to see him with anyone else."

Jungkook’s hand balled into a tight fist at his side, but he still didn't look at her."Eleanor was so good to me," Margaret continued, "She was my dearest friend. Truly, my best friend. But things between her and Jungkook weren't really good back then. Yet, the moment she became pregnant, I knew everything would change. I thought Jungkook would only look after her forever, that I would be cast aside. So....I finished her. I took her out of the equation so he would belong only to me."

She tilted her head, her gaze shifting down to your stomach, her eyes widening. "And then the exact same thing happened with you. You said you were pregnant. The panic came back. I wanted to finish you too, just like I did to Eleanor, to protect my place with him."

Jungkook froze. The words finally pierced through his grief, a sudden, sharp realization slamming into his chest. His dark eyes snapped open as his head whipped around to look at you, his face completely pale.

"What?" Jungkook murmured, his voice dropping as he stared directly at you. "What did she just say? You....you're pregnant?"

Panic seized your throat, "I'll explain everything, Jungkook, I swear," you stammered breathlessly, your heart hammering. "Just not here."

"Are you pregnant, Y/N?" Jungkook demanded, his hands catching your shoulders, his grip tight and desperate as his protective worry flared back to life. He looked down at your flat stomach, his mind spinning with the terrifying parallel to Eleanor's murder. "Is it true?"

You couldn't breathe under his intense, heavy gaze you pulled back slightly, your eyes wide with a desperate plea."Can we go out from here, please?" you whispered, tears welling in your eyes as you tugged at his sleeve. "Please, Jungkook. Let's just leave this place."

The rain lashed violently against the windscreen of the motorcar as the doors slammed shut, sealing you and Jungkook inside a suffocating, freezing silence. The guards stood outside in the downpour, leaving the two of you entirely alone.Jungkook gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned a ghostly white, his chest heaving with a terrifying, raw fury. The air in the vehicle was thick with his explosive anger, a storm ready to break at any second.You couldn't carry the crushing weight of the lie for another moment.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your hands trembling violently in your lap. "I faked my pregnancy," you whispered.Jungkook’s head whipped around instantly, his dark eyes flashing with a cold rage that made your breath hitch.

"WHY?!" he shouted, "Why on earth would you play a sick, disgusting game like that?!"

Through frantic, choked sobs, you poured out everything. You explained the trap, how Eleanor had been murdered the exact week she fell pregnant, and how you had used Daphne’s forged report as live bait to force the killer into making a clumsy mistake. You told him how both wives wore the red nail polish, and how you had been desperate to smoke the monster out of the shadows.But your explanation only stoked the flames of his fury. Jungkook slammed his fist hard against the steering wheel, a broken, angry growl escaping his throat. You flinched.

"Why you did that?!" he roared. "Look at what your brilliant little game has cost us! Because of your reckless lies, I have just lost one more wife! Cecilia is dead because she threw herself in front of a bullet meant for a fake baby!" The mention of Cecilia’s sacrifice pierced straight through your heart, a sharp wave of guilt crashing over you. Tears poured freely down your cheeks.

"I am guilty for Cecilia, Jungkook!" you wept openly, your voice trembling with your deep, profound love for him. "I will carry the weight of her death for the rest of my bloody life! But please...you have to look at what I was facing! Everyone in this county, every rumor in that house, said you were the one who murdered Eleanor! I was trapped in a house with a killer, and I was trying to find the truth to clear your name because I love you! If you were thinking your husband was a killer when it was actually Margaret all along...please, Jungkook, just keep yourself in my shoes!" The words hung heavily in the damp, freezing air of the car, the silence that followed stretching out like a tight wire as Jungkook stared at you, his rage suddenly colliding with the shocking realization of why you had risked your life in the first place.

The endless, suffocating night had finally passed. Jungkookgave divorce to Margaret, stripping her of the Jeon name forever Margaret confess each things she did. Earlier that morning, the bleak sky had wept a steady drizzle over Cecilia’s funeral. Jungkook had stood like a statue as she was laid to rest, his jaw clenched, his dark eyes hollow with an unreadable grief.

Now, the heavy front doors of the mansion swung open. You walked into the cold, grand, flanked by your parents, who had rushed to the estate. Jungkook walk slightly ahead, his back completely rigid as he refused to look behind him. As you stepped onto the marble threshold, you paused and turned your head toward the garden . Mrs. Whitmore was standing there the old maid was dressed in her vintage uniform, her hands folded neatly in front of her. She was staring directly at you, her face completely pale, carrying that same knowing, ancient expression from the day she first told you about Jungkook and Eleanor's tragic past.

"Mrs. Whitmore..." you breathed you took a step towards her , but your mother’s hand snapped around your wrist, pulling you back with a firm, worried grip.

"Y/N, sweetie, where are you going?" your mother asked, her voice laced with deep concern as she looked at your pale face. "We need to get you inside."

"There," you whispered, pointing a trembling finger. "Look. It's Mrs. Whitmore. The old maid. I need to speak to her." Your mother turned her head, squinting through the grey, before turning back to you with a deeply unsettled expression.

"Sweetheart... what are you talking about? There is no one out there. The garden is completely empty." Panic seized your chest. You violently whipped your head back around to look at the tree.The lawn was entirely bare. There was no old woman, and no footsteps in the mud. Before you could scream or protest, your mother tightly pulled your freezing hand, guiding you inside.

In master bedroom Jungkook sat back against the headboard, He looked entirely hollowed out by the grief of losing Cecilia and the horrific betrayal of Margaret. You moved slowly across the mattress, sliding your thighs beside his hip, and gently reached out to take his hand. His skin was freezing. He didn't pull away, but he didn't squeeze back either. After a long, agonizing silence, his deep, raspy voice broke the quiet.

"Who told you about Eleanor, y/n ?"You leaned in closer, you raised your hands and gently cupped his cold face, your palms resting against his sharp jawline. "Mrs. Whitmore," you whispered softly, your eyes locking onto his with absolute honesty. "The old maid. She’s the one who found me in the house, Jungkook. She guided me through each step. She told me about how much you loved Eleanor, she told me about the master wing... she even told me where to look for the keys."

The moment the name left your lips, Jungkook’s entire body went completely rigid beneath your touch. He stared at you, his pupils dilating as the color completely drained from his cheeks. His breath hitched sharply, his hands coming up to grip your wrists, his fingers turning white with sheer panic.

"What did you just say?" Jungkook choked out, his voice a terrified, breathless whisper that made the hairs on your arms stand up. "Who did you say spoke to you?"

"Mrs. Whitmore..." you stammered, cold panic in your chest. "The old woman, the servant, Jungkook, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" Jungkook’s hands shook violently against your wrists as he looked into your eyes, his chest heaving with a heavy, frantic rhythm.

"Mrs. Whitmore died twenty years ago," he whispered, a tear of pure horror spilling over his lashes. "She was the head housekeeper when I was a boy. She passed away long before I ever met Eleanor....long before I ever brought any of you into this house." The words slammed into your brain like a physical blow.The entire bedroom seemed to tilt wildly on its axis. Your vision blurred at the edges, and your lungs suddenly felt completely crushed, refusing to take in any air. Twenty years ago. The woman who had touched your shoulder, the woman who had whispered secrets to you, the woman you had just seen standing beneath the old tree—she had been dead for two decades.

A sharp, suffocating gasp escaped your throat. Your hands tore away from his face, clutching frantically at your own chest as your breathing turned into rapid, shallow, erratic pants.

Jungkook immediately yanked you into his lap, wrapping his massive, powerful arms around your trembling frame and burying his face in your hair. He held you so tightly it felt as if he were physically trying to keep your soul from breaking apart.

"Breathe,Just breathe. I’ve got you," he commanded, his deep, raspy voice vibrating against your chest as he rocked you back and forth on the mattress. "Look at me. Focus on my voice. You are safe. I am right here. I am not letting anything touch you."

You clutched the heavy wool of his shirt, your fingernails digging into his chest as you sobbed."I don't want to live here!" you wailed, hot, desperate tears soaking straight into his collar as your chest heaved in gasps. "Please, Jungkook... please, can we leave this mansion? I can't breathe in this house anymore! Every corner is haunted, every shadow is a nightmare! Please, if you love me, just take me away from here!"

Jungkook closed his eyes, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he tightened his grip around your waist. He looked past your shoulder toward the dark, empty corners of the master bedroom He leaned down, pressing a deep, lingering protective kiss against your temple, his hands smoothing down your back to anchor your shaking body.

"We are leaving," Jungkook whispered, "Tonight. I will have the guards pack a single car, and we are turning our backs on this place forever. I don't care about the estate, and I don't care about the family name. You are my only priority now. We are never coming back."

The midnight air was freezing as the final leather suitcases were loaded into the boot of the sleek black motorcar. The rain had completely stopped, leaving the grand Jeon mansion slick, wet, under the pale moonlight .

You stood by the open passenger door, your hand trembling slightly as you turned around to look back at the massive brick structure one last time. Nine months of your life were woven into those walls. The memories pooled in your chest all at once—the midnight seduction in your emerald satin robe, the terrifying layout of Eleanor's room, the explosive arguments with Cecilia, and the genuine, warm laughter you had shared with Margaret before the mask shattered. It was a beautiful.

As your eyes drifted upward, tracking the grand stone staircase visible through the massive glass windows of the foyer, your breath hitched.

Standing right at the top of the stairs was Mrs. Whitmore, dressed in her pristine housekeeper's uniform. But she wasn't alone anymore. Standing right beside her, bathed in a soft, ethereal silver glow, was a young, beautiful woman with dark, flowing hair and a gentle smile. It was Eleanor , the two women stood shoulder-to-shoulder, looking down at you with an overwhelming sense of peace. Slowly, gracefully, they lifted their hands and offered you a soft, lingering wave. They weren't there to haunt you. They were saying goodbye.

You didn't cry out in terror. The fear that had paralyzed you all evening suddenly melted into a quiet, profound understanding.Instead, you reached out and clutched Jungkook’s broad arm hard. Jungkook felt the sudden tension in your grip and looked down at you, his dark eyes fiercely protective as he wrapped his large hand over yours, grounding you completely. He didn't look back at the mansion. He only looked at you.

"Ready, sweetheart?" he murmured, his deep, raspy voice an absolute anchor in the dark. "Ready," you whispered softly.You stepped into the car, and Jungkook slid in right beside you, closing the heavy door and shutting out the chilling silence of the estate forever. As the motorcar roared to life and accelerated down the long, winding driveway, the grand iron gates groaned closed behind you. You leaned your head against Jungkook's shoulder, your fingers locked tightly with his he kiss your head, finally leaving the haunted mansion and its secrets buried deep in the past as you sped away into the quiet night.

CONTINUE IN NEXT PART