Chapter 39
In front of Mielle’s house, after kicking the front door a few times, the weak latch couldn’t withstand the force and flew off from the wooden door.
“What are you doing here all of a sudden?”
Mielle looked at the intruding group with wide, startled eyes. The room was so small that he had set up the torso in the only available space in the living room, finishing the dress’s final touches.
“You… because of you, I… I harmed our Sylvia.”
“Huh? Hanson… what are you saying all of a sudden? Wait, what did you do to the boss?”
“Our family is finished. You… you’re a destroyer of families.”
“What… does that mean…?”
Mielle narrowly dodged Hanson, who swung a weapon wildly with bloodshot eyes. But the torso behind him toppled, tearing the almost-completed dress to shreds.
“Ahhh! No!”
A scream escaped Mielle’s lips. He was more shocked by the ruined dress than by the sudden attack on himself.
“Oh… no way…”
Staggering while looking at the shredded dress, Mielle glared at Hanson.
“What are you doing, Hanson! Have you been drinking again? Please, pull yourself together! Where is our boss, Sylvia?”
“Uh… uh…”
“Sylvia, your wife!”
Hanson’s pupils trembled with rage.
Then he realized that he had left his wife on the floor of the atelier.
The thought that he had to take Dalia away before that terrifying man arrived, just to survive himself, had consumed him…
Looking at the torso lying pitifully on the floor, Hanson recalled his wife lying there.
“Sy… Sylvia…”
“…What on earth have you done?”
“Uh…”
Hanson, now more unstable than before, struggled to form a proper answer. Sensing Sylvia’s misfortune, the pale Mielle hurried toward Zephyros.
However, the gang blocked his path.
“Hey…”
Mielle let out a sigh, attempting to plead to be let go, but suddenly felt a heavy blow on the back of his head and collapsed.
“Hey Hanson, don’t kill him yet!”
The bird-faced gang member shouted in alarm.
Ignoring him, Hanson raised the poker high again.
Half-crazed from the unbearable reality, his eyes rolling wildly, he seemed ready to end Mielle’s life.
But the gang cared more about Dalia’s whereabouts and the valuables Mielle had hidden than harming him.
After forcibly prying Hanson away from Mielle, the gang kicked him and beat him down.
Mielle, glancing between the unconscious Hanson and the gang, spoke coldly.
“What do you want? Haven’t you heard that Hanson harmed his wife, Sylvia? We need to go to her.”
“Her safety is important, sure. But first, answer a couple of questions.”
“What is it? I’ll say anything.”
As Mielle complied, the gang smiled meaningfully and began their interrogation.
“I hear you caught a wealthy guy recently? We have business with that lady.”
“Yeah. Just tell us that and we’ll let you go immediately, with a path lined in flowers even.”
“What are you planning to do to her? Absolutely not!”
“Hey, Mielle. Think carefully. It’d be boring if you just came out calmly, right?”
“Threats won’t work. I won’t say a thing. No matter what you do to me…!”
“Oh? Words aren’t enough? Maybe we should start with a few hits?”
As Mielle refused to reveal her residence, the atmosphere grew increasingly hostile. Then one of the gang members intervened: the bird-faced one.
He stepped between Mielle and the others, jokingly speaking while they raised their clubs.
“Hold on. Hasn’t it been a while since Hanson went to the atelier?”
“Huh?”
The other members looked confused. The bird-faced one exaggeratedly measured the sun outside, checked the time, and caught Mielle’s eye with a malicious smile.
“If we’re late, your boss might really die. Right, guys?”
“Ha ha ha! That’s right, Mielle. What will you do now? Better hurry, huh?”
Understanding his intentions, the gang nodded with smiles.
Mielle gritted his teeth, jaw trembling in anger.
At that moment, a voice came from the doorway.
“Who’s going to die?”
“Well… our poor Sylvia… huh? Who are you?”
The bird-faced one’s eyes widened as he realized the intruder was Khalid, the man who had once carried Dalia and vanished before his eyes.
The black-haired man leaning in the doorway had once carried Dalia and disappeared right before him.
Meeting Khalid’s gaze, the bird-faced man froze in instinctive fear, then tried to bluff by gesturing to his gang.
“Not sure what trick got you to escape earlier, but you arrived just in time. See our numbers?”
Shrugging, he tried to act confident with his gang behind him—but his voice gradually faltered.
‘Why am I like this? How embarrassing.’
That thought was the last he ever had in this life.
The corpses of the gang, who had failed to flee, piled up neatly.
Their endless screams gradually subsided.
Hanson cowered in a corner, trembling as he watched everything unfold. There was no way they would leave him, the one responsible for kidnapping the woman, alive.
Eventually, Khalid stopped Hanson from attempting suicide out of fear. If he died, no one would know the full story of this incident.
“I-I’m Sirei… I owed him a huge gambling debt. He made me and my wife sign a slave contract, or else bring the woman back unharmed… But it seemed like he was also taking orders from someone. I heard him grumbling that he had to show her to his superior. I’m certain!”
“So, in the end, you don’t know the mastermind’s name?”
“Yes, yes! Just spare me. I really don’t know.”
“…”
After some consideration, Khalid decided to leave him behind.
He planned to track down the root later and implanted a mind-altering spell into Hanson. It was a long-forbidden spell, but there was no time to worry about that.
“…”
Confirming Hanson’s eyes gradually regained focus, Khalid tossed him aside and headed for the mansion.
When she opened her eyes, Dalia found herself in a familiar space.
She blinked, lying down, her entire body aching as if she’d been beaten.
‘At least… I’m back at Ahmad Mansion.’
She remembered nothing after seeing Khalid for the last time.
‘I barely kept my wits, but I guess I fainted when I relaxed.’
“Lady Dalia! Are you awake?”
Instead of Khalid, Roy looked down at her with concern.
“You’re awake?”
Aaron also approached her bedside, apparently having returned from the capital.
“Humans are always bold. Even more than we expected.”
“…Sylvia?”
As soon as she regained some awareness, Dalia’s first concern was Sylvia’s well-being.
“I brought her back to the mansion.”
“So she’s safe? When I last saw her…”
Her voice trembled. The last memory she had of Sylvia was seeing her collapsed, unconscious, and battered.
“She wasn’t seriously hurt. Just a bit of rest and she should recover.”
Relieved by Roy’s words, Dalia managed a faint smile.
“That’s a relief.”
“Don’t worry about the boss. First, you need to recover. I’ll get a fresh wet towel!”
While Roy fussed over whether to contact Khalid or let her rest, Aaron, standing a step behind with a subtle expression, quietly asked Dalia:
“By the way, Lady Dalia, did you propose to Khalid while married?”
“…Huh? Of course not.”
Her half-conscious mind jolted. What was he talking about? Aaron repeated in a dry, emotionless voice:
“Is it true? You were half-asleep earlier saying the kidnapper was Sylvia’s husband Hanson, and that he was acting under orders from your husband, right?”
Aaron’s manner of addressing Dalia had shifted from the honorific ‘Lady’ to ‘you.’
“…Huh? Lady Dalia, you’re married?”
Roy, bringing a fresh wet towel, approached with wide eyes.
Dalia hesitated but then looked at the medicine on the bedside table.
“Ah… I guess the medicine made me talk nonsense.”
“You correctly identified Zephyros’ husband as the culprit, but you’re saying everything after that was nonsense?”
Aaron asked calmly, but his voice was stiff, clearly unconvinced.
Dalia opened her mouth to explain but closed it again.
“…”
‘What should I say? That I died and came back to life, and Sirei was the man I married in my past life? They’d think I’m crazy or lying.’
She wasn’t sure anyone would believe the surreal events she had experienced.
“Ha…”
Her head ached more than her bruised body.
The Marquis and his wife had recently been discovered by Sirei that their daughter had run away.
At the time of Sirei’s visit, they were drinking together and trying to keep him satisfied.
From the Marquis’ perspective, it was strange that, despite knowing about Dalia’s escape and his frantic attempts to catch her, he hadn’t canceled the engagement—but in the end, it was fortunate.
To spend time with Sirei, the wealthy prospective son-in-law, the Marquis instructed his subordinates not to interfere lightly.
“What is it?”
Despite this, the Marquis frowned upon seeing Simos.
“Marquis. There’s news that Lady Dalia has been found.”
“…Oh.”
The sound came from Sirei, not the Marquis.
After glancing at Sirei, the Marquis scolded Simos.
“If it’s useless information again, you won’t escape unpunished.”
Simos had previously brought false reports or women resembling Dalia, resulting in empty-handed searches.
“This… this time, the information seems credible.”
“Are you sure?”
When Bourbon asked, Sirei smiled and intervened.
“If it’s another similar woman, give her to me this time too.”
All women who had been mistaken for Dalia in Bourbon’s territory had fallen into Sirei’s hands.
‘It’d be fine to just give up those women, but this guy isn’t normal. Using them to fill Dalia’s absence temporarily—what a nasty hobby.’
Even so, the Marquis did not refuse the request of the wealthy Sirei.
