I Owe the Tyrant Four Little Heirs novel Chapter 9

“And when I grow up, I’ll send you to college, okay, Mommy?” Aurelia said, running over to hug Niamh’s neck.

“Okay, okay,” Niamh said, wiping Aurelia’s runny nose. “I’ll be waiting for all of you to grow up.”

Her heart swelled with love. The past five years of her life hadn’t been wasted. Raising these four children on her own was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but moments like these made it all worthwhile.

After hanging the laundry, Niamh changed from her dress into a tracksuit to make cleaning easier. She rarely wore dresses these days anyway.

At 6:30, she headed out and ran into Lyric, who was just returning from walking her dog. “Lyric, can I ask you for a favor?”

Lyric lived in the apartment next door. Apparently, she owned a large villa but found it too lonely, so she had moved into one of her own apartment buildings instead.

“Of course, Ms. Lynn. What is it?”

“I have to work tonight and won’t be back until around ten. Could you possibly check on the children for me around nine?”

“Of course! I’m just sitting at home by myself anyway. I’d be happy to keep an eye on them for you,” Lyric agreed warmly. “Anytime you need to work, I can help out. Don’t you worry.”

Niamh took out the key, opened the gate, and walked down a cobblestone path lined with stone benches and beautifully manicured bonsai trees. At the front door, she entered the passcode Winnie had given her.

The interior was decorated almost entirely in black, creating a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. The eyes in the portraits hanging at the far end of the living room seemed to follow her, as if trying to suck out her soul. If it weren’t for the brilliant light from the crystal chandelier overhead, she might have thought she’d walked into a demon’s lair.

She opened the shoe cabinet to find only a single pair of designer men’s slippers. It seemed the owner lived here alone. Unable to find any other footwear, she wiped the soles of her shoes and got to work.

She started on the third floor, cleaning every room and corner until it was spotless. An hour and a half later, she reached the master bedroom on the first floor. The moment she pushed the door open, the oppressive feeling intensified. Everything in the room—the furniture, the bedsheets, the curtains—was black, except for the white walls.