Aubrey quickly did a check of the office and saw that nothing remained out of place. She surveyed her outfit, patting down any wrinkles, and checked the Facsimile Mask to see if it remained active.

So far, everything held up.

But now she had to contend with this... Greaves guy. Would he find her out? Could she fool him too?

One way to find out...

She gave her hair one more ruffle and strode towards the door with her hands in her pockets—shoulders relaxed—a scowl etched onto her features.

Aubrey opened the door with a flourish of impatience, her eyes narrowing as they fell upon the two figures waiting outside. Mrs. Haversham, a worried look in her eyes, stood a respectful distance behind Greaves.

Morgan Greaves was a thin, reedy man with gray hair and a craggy face that seemed to be made up of wrinkles and age spots. A suit hung loosely on his gaunt frame, and he wore an ornate cane under one arm. The way he carried himself reminded Aubrey of an overgrown vulture: all bony limbs and sharp angles.

"Greaves," Aubrey acknowledged him with a nod, channeling Julian's brusque tone. "This had better be worth my time."

Morgan stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation, his eyes briefly scanning the surroundings before settling back on Aubrey. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm the one with questions," he said as he crossed over to a chair and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. "I suggest you take a seat before we start talking."

He gestured to the chairs in front of him, a toothy smile appearing on his face. "Make yourself comfortable."

Aubrey felt the man's piercing stare roam over her for a second—much like how Julian usually surveyed her body—but the look held a different quality. She couldn't quite identify what it was, but it made her feel... vulnerable. Exposed.

"My apologies, sir," Mrs. Haversham piped up as she entered the room carrying a tray with refreshments and snacks and set it on the table before hastily departing the study.

The door closed with a soft click.

Aubrey strolled over and sat across from Morgan, forcing a thin smile and locking her gaze with his.

Morgan wasted no time and, after pouring himself a cup of tea, launched into an inquisition.

"Julian," he began, his tone laced with a skepticism that grated on Aubrey's nerves. "Your absence has stirred more than just rumors. The incident at the music hall, the guards... your sudden disappearance. You flee from your own venue, and not a word until now. Care to explain?"

Morgan held her stare with his beady black eyes, looking at her as if he could somehow see right through the disguise. His shrewd gaze never wavered as he waited for her reply, as though expecting her to flinch first.

Aubrey took a second to arrange her thoughts. How much information should she divulge? This man obviously worked with Julian or The Iron Circle; maybe even both. She didn't know how involved he was with their plans, so she would have to be careful with how much information to reveal.

Too many uncertainties.

Better to err on the side of caution...

Aubrey sat back in her chair and regarded Greaves coolly.

"It's a long story," she said at last. "But it started with an Unhallowed infiltrating the venue and masquerading as Lucille, that's for sure. But how the Unhallowed bypassed security to enter is still beyond me. So, I did what any would do in that circumstance—I fled and hoped a Hunter or the Cogsworn Order could deal with it."

Morgan snorted and took a sip from his cup of tea, his wrinkled fingers clasping the handle carefully. "An Unhallowed attacking your show, leaving witnesses and a trail of confusion in its wake... Sounds rather unorthodox for those wretched creatures."

He looked up again, his dark eyes gleaming with an odd mixture of contempt and amusement. "Lucille was found unconscious in her dressing room. Detectives questioned her after the incident."

Morgan leaned forward, steepling his fingers under his chin, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Curiously, she revealed that a woman, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the late Aubrey Sinclaire, had put her in that state. She also mentioned that this look-alike had black hair instead of red. A wild claim, if I ever heard of one.

"So, an Unhallowed in the music hall, a look-alike woman sporting Aubrey's visage stirring up chaos, killing guards. Quite the spectacle, Julian. And yet, here you stand, unscathed."

The insinuation hung between them like a blade dangling precariously on a string. Aubrey fought to keep her expression impassive, aware that any slip could unravel her carefully constructed facade.

Morgan went on, his voice deceptively low. "Don't play me for a fool, Julian. I'm no one's lackey or gullible simpleton. There's something else at play here."

Aubrey suppressed the urge to sigh. Well, two could play this game of his, so she mustered every ounce of contempt into her own voice and responded with the most curt, rude, and brusque delivery she could manage, channeling her previous dealings with the insufferable man.

"Believe whatever you want. That Unhallowed infiltrated as Lucille, then massacred the guards and put me on the run," she said, injecting just the right amount of frustration into her tone. "The sight of Aubrey's face had me spooked—understandably so, as you should be aware given the... history between her and me."

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

If the pause sounded slightly forced, she hoped it went unnoticed.

Morgan seemed to consider this, his face twisting into a grimace. After a moment, he shook his head in apparent disbelief.

"Interesting that an Unhallowed would be so bold and adept to pose as someone with ties to you," Morgan said with a mock-pensive hum, looking out the window in a fake contemplation. "Of course, this raises a plethora of other questions about security that we don't have the luxury to address at the moment, given the circumstances of... Project Prometheus and all."

Aubrey fought the urge to wince at his words.

This guy... was also involved.

"Let me guess," Aubrey ventured with a small sigh, channeling Julian's patronizing tone to a T. "You wish to report your suspicions that the 'Aubrey-doppelganger' that caused a ruckus during that night is the same woman whom we've all thought dead? I assure you, I was there for all of it, Morgan. Aubrey is dead. The doppelganger that attacked and imprisoned me was some sort of Unhallowed that mimicked her visage to bedevil and corner me."

"And how are you so sure about that?" Morgan interjected, leaning back against his chair again with his hands steepled in front of him.

"The Hunter who managed to kill it and rescue me told me," Aubrey lied, trying her best to come up with a believable excuse. "He said it was a mimic-type born from the corrupted soul of a former worker of mine who I... laid with and discarded."

Morgan gave an indelicate snort in response. "You and your depraved tastes, Julian, never fails to raise a brow or two."

"Wasn't aware that you found my affairs to be any of your business," Aubrey sneered.

Ugh... yuck! Just uttering the words left a nasty taste in her mouth, but she did so with aplomb and a crude sneer. She'd have to cleanse herself thoroughly after this...

The silence stretched on between them as they sat there staring each other down like two prized roosters in a cockfight. After an uncomfortably long moment, Morgan chuckled softly, breaking the standoff.

"Very well then." He set his empty cup on the tray and stood up. "It's good to see that you've managed to extricate yourself from this mess. So what of the Hunter who rescued you? Can you provide his name?"

"I killed him shortly after his bout with the Unhallowed," Aubrey said with a cold smile, standing to accompany him, subtly placing herself in between the exit and him.

"Killed him? A Hunter?" Morgan's eyebrows rose up in surprise.

Aubrey shrugged nonchalantly. "He was near death's door after fighting off that abomination. All I did was lend a helping hand and mercy-killed the poor sod. Loose ends and all that."

Morgan paused momentarily before nodding slowly, appearing to accept her story without further prodding.

"I see... Well, that simplifies matters for us. Better not leave any trail of suspicion from here on out." He glanced over his shoulder as he headed for the door, his expression thoughtful.

"As long as we're clear, then." Aubrey dipped her head to him as he passed, her smile still intact. "Thank you for checking in, Greaves."

"Hmph," he snorted again, pausing in the doorway. "Enjoy your reprieve while it lasts, Julian. I expect Project Prometheus to run smoothly without further hitches."

He turned to walk away without another word. Aubrey watched as he disappeared around the corner, closing the door behind him. A few seconds later, she heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway.

Aubrey slumped against her seat, feeling drained by the exchange.

That... could've gone better... and worse, all at the same time. At least Morgan hadn't become outright aggressive during the interrogation—at least not directly—but she could sense that his suspicions remained intact.

How much had he already investigated or already known? The man, though old, held himself with confidence and sharpness, no doubt well-versed in all manners of schemes and plotting. That cagey old coot... She could just imagine him keeping an eye on everything—holding a thin stack of all the cards—only letting information flow when it pleased him.

Maybe she should have just killed him while he was right in front of her and spared herself from dealing with his interrogation and suspicion. But she got caught up in the moment, trying to be a clever little fox instead of just going in for the kill. What would have been the downside to killing him anyway? People would have assumed that Julian killed Morgan and then vanished shortly after coming back from his disappearance.

Ah, shit! That would've been the best way to cover her tracks and further cement her ruse! Aubrey had gotten greedy! Well, what's done was done. All she could do now was to move forward with caution.

If Morgan had looked like some handsome, fox-eyed, silver-tongued man who usually played the role of a cunning and shrewd swindler or scheming trickster, she would have murdered him before he could utter a single syllable.

Damn, I fucking hate those types!

Morgan reminded her of an old-man version of that trope, so her instinct to kill him on the spot was slow to come.

Next time... she'd murder him immediately and call it a day.

No second guesses. No regrets. Just. Get. The. Kill.

For now, though, she had some loose ends to tie up. She needed a way for "Julian" to conveniently go into seclusion without giving those around him any reason to pursue further investigation. There could still be good opportunities to uncover more about that Project Prometheus plan in the future so having the option to masquerade as Julian remained something to consider.

If only she had a way for someone else to pose as him in the meantime while she carried on with her hunt for her killers. Maybe she could befriend a mimic-type Unhallowed to assist her as a meat-shield and get Julian's affairs in order for her? Did those things even exist?

Ugh... What a headache this whole scheme's turning out to be.

Aubrey cleaned up her surroundings to make it as orderly as when she had first entered the place and took one last look around before slipping out of the office.

When she passed by Joseph and Mrs. Haversham on the way out of the estate, she feigned a nonchalant stride, knowing that it'd keep the two busybodies from following her and further hindering her.

"I'm going on a vacation to unwind. Should be gone for a few weeks," Aubrey told Joseph, waving to him as she pushed through the door.

"Um..." Joseph began, a worried expression on his face.

"I need a vacation and some peace of mind after that damned attack at the show and a rather inconvenient incident following after it, Joseph," she said, turning back and speaking to the man in a sharp tone. "As such, ensure that all of my meetings and obligations are cancelled, and ensure that anyone who comes in asking for me know that I'm away and in good health. Should any issue arise, have them attend to you to work through it, then I will handle it once I come back from my little trip."

"But what about Missus?" Mrs. Haversham chimed in, joining their conversation. "Will you at least send for her to know that you'll be gone?"

Julian was married? She had no recollection of that fact. Maybe he had kept it from her all this time? Who the fuck would marry this sleazebag?

Aubrey maintained a cool facade, waving a dismissive hand in their general direction. "It'll be a few weeks at most, Mrs. Haversham. I'm certain she can take care of herself. Just send the usual monthly allowance her way, and toss in some fancy gifts too, to let her know of my continued health and absence."

The two of them blinked owlishly at her, too stunned to protest any further.

With another quick wave, she headed towards the manor's front gates, whistling an off-tune melody as she walked away.