The Styles Mansion [h.s]

nineteen

MY EARS are ringing. Everything seems to have stopped working and everything stayed silent. I stared at Henson with my shock filled face and empty head.

That means my husband is a murderer?

And that was the reason why Shelley was ignoring my question about Veronica?

I'm sure if I was standing right now, I could have collapsed on the ground.

"We found them both in a room one day, she was lying on the ground with a slit  throat and Harry was standing with his favourite royal knife in his hand while staring at her dead body. Before we could do anything she was gone." Henson informed sighing while staring through his big royal window.

My heart started to race to hear the tragic death of their nanny. Who has raised them with her love and adoration. But the main thing was, why did Harry kill her?

"But why would Harry do that to her? Neona said he loved her. She was the one who took care of him?" I blurted out of my frustration. I don't know what took over me but I couldn't stop those voices in my head which was pushing me to ask everything.

"I don't know Venessa. No one was there except from only two of them, when we heard the gut higgling scream of Veronica, everyone ran towards the room. When I opened the door, Veronica was almost dead and Harry was standing beside the body with the knife." He finished with an afflicted face, seeming to be lost as he couldn't match his eyes with me.

I kept silent, Nothing was coming out from my mouth because there was nothing that I could say. Suddenly, the urge to hide my existence from the room seems like an urgent matter to me.

I wanted to get vanished, from here, from this mansion, even from this world.

Everything was turning its point pricker towards Harry's way. He was there in the room alone with her. He was holding the knife while Veronica was lying on the floor letting go of her last breath.

But why would he do that? What happened back there that made him kill someone that he loved?

Nothing makes sense.

Though my head was howling that my husband is a murderer but my heart wasn't assenting with my brain. Harry can't kill Veronica, you might call me a fool or dump but I can't set the word 'murderer' upon my husband.

"What if someone tried to frame him?"

Henson snapped his head at me while dragging his eyebrows together. He parted his red lips staring at me as if I was a mad woman. He believed his brother was a murderer?

"Who would try to do that Venessa? I told you no one was there only him and her." He put emphasis on his sentence making me want to punch something so hard.

"But still think about it Henson, what if someone killed her and took advantage of Harry's condition?" I said desperately or almost begging through my words to make him believe his brother hasn't done anything.

For some moments Henson lost in his thoughts as he kept his eyes glued to the ground. He was deeply thinking, his jaw clenching tightly as he was now glaring at the lifeless ground.

"You are right, that could be possible. We have the most successful business empire around the country, the list of enemies is way too long. If it's the matter that someone was trying to frame him then there must be a big reason behind that." Henson said so calmly as if he was joining the dots of everything making sense gradually.

"O fuck, why I haven't thought of that?" Henson cursed harshly slamming his both palms on the desk while standing up on his feet.

He walked towards the opened widows, as I could see the redness of his face.