MHWMM 35

Chapter 35

Two years ago.

Even after reviving Clou Textile—a company everyone thought was doomed—Cayente could not return to his old life. He had developed a habit of clenching his jaw so tightly that tension constantly throbbed from his jaw to his temples, causing chronic headaches. Getting a good night’s sleep was a luxury long lost.

“Count, please take some rest. You can start sleeping again, even if it’s just a little.”

Henry, who had stayed by Cayente’s side through everything and now served as his secretary, offered daily words of concern. But once the mind tightened, letting go was no easy feat.

Not yet, the voice inside him whispered every day. It’s still too early to relax.

Part of the reason Cayente became like this was the change he saw in his family. After all was said and done, he realized that no matter how a problem is resolved, the sorrow and pain it leaves behind don’t simply disappear.

His mother, who had barely recovered from the shock of losing her husband before being hounded by people, now avoided human contact altogether and lived reclusively. His twin sisters, sent abroad almost as if in hiding, had no desire to return to the duchy.

He had saved the family business and preserved the house name, yet he could not save their hearts. Burdened by guilt and a constant fear that everything might collapse again, that’s when Cayente first heard the rumor.

“They say it was an accident.”

“No, they say it was murder. Honestly, there’s no reason for someone to fall from there like that.”

To be precise, that’s when the rumor started bothering him. From the beginning, whispers that the late Count Clou hadn’t died by accident but had been murdered had always followed the story.

At first, Cayente assumed it was just gossip spread by those who thought his father deserved to be killed. It wasn’t right to speak ill of one’s parents—but as someone who had suffered greatly because of him, Cayente couldn’t bring himself to say his father had been a good man.

—”So what’s it gonna be? You want all your hair ripped out, or are you gonna stop seeing him?”

—“Agh! Fine! I said I wouldn’t see him! I won’t!”

What troubled the family most was his father’s womanizing. Even before formally starting the business, he’d had mistresses. As the money grew, so did the problem. In the early days, it could be hidden within the family, but as the business flourished, it became impossible. At one point, it seemed like he had a woman in every part of town.

Unlike her soft-hearted twin sister, Isabella had a strong will and refused to tolerate it. While their mother Maria cried, waiting for a husband who never returned home, Isabella would storm out to find him. Instead of avoiding him, she’d track down wherever he was and drag him home—even if she had to cling to the hems of his pants while he was with another woman.

That was when Isabella was around fourteen or fifteen. If she had been born male, Cayente often thought, and had succeeded their father instead, perhaps she would’ve done much better than he had.

—“It’s my fault! I did wrong, punish me, Father!”

—“I’m sorry! Father, I’m sorry!”

Another issue was the physical abuse his father reserved only for Cayente. Unlike the twins, who were allowed anything, Cayente was punished for even the smallest mistake.

Act like a worthy heir to the Clou name. That’s what his father demanded.

—“Get inside!”

—“Father! Please forgive me, just this once!”

—“Please! I’m the one who’s at fault! I’ll make sure he’s educated properly, please!”

If Cayente strayed even slightly from his father’s standards, a beating followed. Sometimes even his mother, trying to intervene, was struck. Though he was aware of how far he’d gone, the Count never let it show beyond the house. But within the Clou household, everyone knew what was happening.

Once, just because Cayente used polite language to the butler Henry—“unbecoming” of a future Count—his father had locked him in a tiny closet all day, his body covered in bruises.

His cruel nature didn’t stop with his family—it extended to his subordinates as well. That’s why Cayente had always thought the rumor about murder must have come from someone unable to accept the idea of such a man dying peacefully in an accident.

But now, two years after his father’s death, while all the other baseless rumors had faded, that one persisted.

Cayente began to wonder why that particular story hadn’t died out. He knew rumors were born from words passed from mouth to mouth, gaining shape as they spread. But for a rumor to persist that long—maybe there was some truth behind it.

“Where did you hear that my father didn’t die in an accident?”

“Count… we were just repeating what we heard…”

“I’m not accusing you of speaking ill of him. I just want to trace the source.”

“It’s hard to say exactly. That rumor has been around for a long time… I heard it from Isaac, who works at the factory nearby.”

Half out of curiosity, and half out of a desire to focus on something other than work, Cayente decided to trace the rumor. Naturally, after two years, he couldn’t pinpoint its origin. But he did uncover something.

“Henry, who did Father say he was going to meet that day?”

“That day, sir?”

“The day of the accident. It wasn’t listed on his schedule.”

“It wouldn’t be. Someone came unexpectedly, and he said he’d be stepping out to meet them.”

Mark, the investigator Cayente hired, found a witness who had seen a man running away from the factory where the accident occurred.

When the witness mentioned the name, Cayente thought he must have misunderstood. Baron Ruper? He was the only adult, besides Cayente’s mother, who had protected him when things turned violent. How could he be connected?

“Maybe… I think it was Baron Ruper?”

Even after Henry confirmed that the person his father had gone to meet that day was Baron Ruper, Cayente didn’t believe it. He had gone to visit the Baron simply to apologize for not inviting him to the funeral in all the chaos, and maybe to see Julia again—to see how she’d grown. She should be old enough to debut in society by now. Maybe even engaged. If she already had a fiancé, he thought, he might feel oddly disappointed.

But then—

“I’m sorry, Cayente. I won’t ask for forgiveness. But I’m sorry. I had no choice back then. I couldn’t bear to watch my family—especially Julia—suffer.”

Baron Ruper fell to his knees the moment Cayente entered the drawing room.

Now.

Even now, when Cayente had no desire to see his face and told him to leave, Baron Ruper remained kneeling at the gate.

“So this is what becomes of a man who doesn’t know honor. Of course you couldn’t keep your promise.”

Cayente sneered as he looked down at the Baron through the iron gate—looking small and pathetic. It was hard to believe he had once trusted this man more than his own father.

“Please… return Julia to us.”

When the Baron realized he could no longer protect his family, he’d harmed someone else without hesitation. No doubt, Cayente’s father had trusted this man too. That’s how he let him into the factory—never imagining this was the man who would kill him.

“I’ll find a way to repay the money, even if it’s in installments. Please cancel the engagement.”

Cayente hadn’t imagined it either. Even as the facts stared him in the face, it had taken him a long time to accept that a man who loved his family so fiercely, so tenderly, could take the life of someone precious to another. Accepting that was as hard as accepting his father’s death.

“You lack honor, memory, and shame.”

“Please, I beg you.”

“What did I tell you before? If you really felt sorry, then whatever I do—you should accept it quietly.”

Baron Ruper, once like family, had killed his father. Once Cayente finally accepted that truth, the first thing he did was plan revenge.

When he learned the Baron had entered the textile business, Cayente ordered Mark to sabotage it at every turn—buying out raw materials, undercutting deals. It was never a strong business to begin with, so it began to crumble quickly.

Had it ended there, it might have been enough. But the Baron kept trying to rebuild. Cayente used this desperation to trap him in enormous, unpayable debt.

“I even said I’d let you live a modest life, working in a factory.”

The Baron could’ve sold his estate, sold his home, and paid it all. That’s what Cayente expected—he would be ruined, and Cayente’s revenge complete.

“I couldn’t do that. I don’t care about myself, but I couldn’t let Lorina, Ian… especially Julia… I couldn’t let her give up the cello.”

But it was the Baron himself who refused that path—dragging Julia into the mess