Chapter 13
Pierce smiled slyly.
“So? Even as the new owner of the building, you can’t kick me out.”
Racal gave a subtle nod toward the Master’s Seal.
“Miss Charlotte Able is the legitimate heir. She inherited the keys to the building from the Dowager Countess.”
Pierce’s smile slowly faded.
“Besides, it’s your claim that I’m just a tenant here.”
“……”
“I’ve never even seen a contract, so there’s no way Charlotte could believe you’re the tenant.”
Without the tenant contract, he was technically an unauthorized resident. Charlotte could evict him without issue.
Right, Duke Statuwa!
Well done, Duke Statuwa!
Charlotte clapped silently in her mind, cheering.
Pierce, unable to refute the point, glared at Racal and snapped his fingers.
Snap.
A tenant contract floated gently into the air.
“Whoa.”
Finally, the tenant contract she had been searching for in the study appeared before her. The number of times she had scoured the library just to find this scrap of paper…
Overjoyed, Charlotte reached for the contract.
“Ah!”
A jolt of electricity surged through her hand.
“An electric shield? That’s cheap.”
“Shut up and just look with your eyes.”
Pouting, Charlotte read the contract—and then froze in shock. She couldn’t believe it, so she read it three times.
“This… this is a real contract?”
“Yes. Why is it strange?”
“It’s absurd! The contents are ridiculous.”
Until the last day, Pierce would protect the building with his magical security system. While he protected the building, he was guaranteed residence in the basement. But if Pierce died or left the mansion, the magic security system would automatically vanish…
“Is this contract for real?”
“It’s real.”
Racal’s eyes darkened as he examined the document.
“Moreover, this contract is secured by a curse. I don’t know what curse is attached, but for a contract like this, you need two copies to cancel it.”
A simple tenant contract, yet backed by a curse. Who even writes contracts that terrifying?
“I can’t believe this… and there’s no set contract period.”
“It’s written right there. The ‘last day.’”
Pierce pointed angrily, underlining the words last day with a streak of gold.
A vague “last day” as the contract period? Preposterous!
“My grandmother would never have made such a ridiculous contract.”
Pierce jabbed a finger above his head.
“If you don’t want to believe it, bring your grandmother back and ask her yourself.”
Ugh… headache.
The contract had been so perfectly hidden that she thought it must contain some important terms—but it was utterly absurd.
“Is forced eviction possible?”
“If he dies.”
Racal’s cold response made Charlotte flinch, but she understood immediately. The contract period was ambiguous. Legally, she couldn’t evict Pierce unless he died.
It was a contract designed entirely in Pierce’s favor.
Ugh, this is giving me a headache.
Charlotte furrowed her brow, and Pierce puffed up with pride.
“If I’m gone, the magical security system disappears. So you can’t forcibly evict me.”
No! I want to. I want to pack up and tell him to scram.
Unable to voice it, Charlotte glared at the culprit—the contract.
Wait a minute!
There was a way to corner Pierce. A dark thought curled in Charlotte’s mind.
Pierce sensed her change in mood.
“What are you plotting?”
“I think I finally understand why you said, ‘I’m grateful they let me go.’”
“What are you talking about?”
“The contract doesn’t have my grandmother’s name, only the word ‘owner.’ That means it has to be fulfilled for my sake too.”
Charlotte tapped out each word deliberately.
Servant. Faithful. Right.
Pierce, previously smug, glared at the contract with a grim expression.
He probably wanted to burn both copies of the contract because of the curse—but Charlotte didn’t even have a copy. Impossible.
He must have planned to abuse the magical security system against the landlord.
But Pierce hadn’t realized that the contract could also work in Charlotte’s favor.
Heh heh heh. Since he insisted on the contract, I’ll follow it to the letter.
“I’ll honor the contract. I’ll succeed my grandmother’s contract and let you use the magical security system without charging rent.”
“Should’ve said that from the start.”
Charlotte looked sternly at the smug Pierce.
“But don’t come up to the seventh floor.”
“What?”
“No kitchen use. And don’t let me see you up there.”
“No way.”
“Too bad. The contract doesn’t say anything about cooking on the seventh floor.”
Ah… tricked. She only realized it when she read the contract.
Pierce had lied as if cooking were part of the tenant agreement—but in reality, it wasn’t.
“But cooking was supposed to be added as a condition with your grandmother,” Pierce argued.
“The floating contract doesn’t say that.”
“Verbal agreements count too.”
“I never heard about it.”
Since forced eviction was impossible, Charlotte realized she could just avoid him. Pierce’s cooking was tasty, but she didn’t have to eat it. And not seeing him would ease the anxiety of possibly getting killed. Her life could finally be peaceful.
The golden repairs on the first-floor wall had already been flawlessly restored. The mansion truly had excellent restoration magic.
Charlotte felt satisfied with the resolution, but Pierce was fuming.
“No! You can’t stop me from going to the seventh floor. I won’t accept it.”
“Eh? Then you’ll keep going up there? I, as the owner, won’t allow that.”
“Cooking is part of the contract and also a promise to your grandmother.”
“The thought is enough. Even if you don’t cook, your grandmother won’t be upset.”
“If you keep eating penguin-cooked food, you’ll die.”
“Don’t say horrible things! I won’t die. I can cook instead of Lyla if I have to.”
Why is he so insistent on being the seventh-floor chef? Isn’t cooking every day tiresome?
Charlotte sighed.
“Why do we need to see each other at every meal? We don’t like each other, so let’s just not. No arguing, no tension.”
They could enjoy their own homes peacefully—what could he possibly complain about?
Charlotte stood firm, banning him from entry like an impenetrable wall.
Pierce’s face darkened. He looked almost pitiful, like a scorned lover.
This man really wants to be the chef of our house…
“Why are you so obsessed with our kitchen? Could it be…”
“Could it be?”
“You hid a gold ingot in the seventh-floor kitchen?”
“What are you talking about?”
“If not, why do you keep coming here insisting on cooking?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’m the owner of the seventh floor now, you know.”
“Hmph!”
Charlotte began to suspect there was a secret in the seventh-floor kitchen…
Peering through the half-open kitchen door, she spotted a penguin spying. Maybe she should ask Lyla, the mansion’s info source?
“Say what you want.”
Pierce’s eyes locked on an old teacup on the shelf. Charlotte had been thinking, Should I lure Lyla with candy? but was startled by his words.
“Huh?”
“The terms for me to freely access the seventh floor.”
His expression was serious. No more smirks, no sarcasm—his eyes were heavy, deep, and intense.
“You didn’t hide a gold ingot, did you?”
“I’m serious, so stop joking. Will you pay rent?”
Charlotte was stunned.
“Whoa… you read my mind?”
“You like money.”
“Ahem, I do. But don’t say it outright.”
“So… will you pay rent or not?”
“Yes. I will.”
“And access to the seventh floor?”
“Come whenever you want. The seventh floor welcomes you.”
Charlotte wanted to jump for joy. She had given up collecting rent but he offered it first. Amazing!
Still, she forced herself not to show excitement in front of Pierce, whose face was still sulking. Negotiations weren’t fully finished yet.
“Then if you can go up and down the seventh floor, I should go to the basement freely too…”
“Don’t come!”
“Contracts should be fair and equal.”
“So you’re saying you’ll come down to the basement and cook for me?”
Ah, no. That’s not it.
“Then I won’t go down. Just show me one thing. I heard there’s an amazing snow globe…”
The moment Pierce heard snow globe, he shot forward like lightning.
At the same time, Racal grabbed Pierce’s arm.
Pierce’s hand, aimed at Charlotte’s neck, crackled with blue sparks. His eyes were terrifying. Racal glared at him coldly enough to make anyone shiver.
“Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“I stopped regretting a long time ago.”
“Charlotte is curious about the snow globe, not trying to steal it.”
Charlotte quickly added, “Of course! I wouldn’t take it. I don’t even want to see it now, absolutely not.”
I’m not interested in our penguin’s snow globe.
She didn’t know what it was, but Pierce’s reaction made it seem like a rare treasure—or his forbidden trigger.
No! Snow globe or not, it doesn’t matter. My interest ends here. Even if it’s shown to me, I won’t look. Never.
