Wasn’t I the Female Lead of a Regret Novel? [Novel] Chapter 47

chapter 47

“My daughter! Give her back! Give me back my daughter!”

“Let go of me first, then we can talk!” Vendia grunted, struggling to pry her
hair from the woman's iron grip, but it was useless.

“This woman has lost her mind! Let go!” Yulije cried out in horror, trying to
pull the woman away.

“What are you all doing?! Are you just going to stand there and watch?!” Sasha
barked at the dazed officers. Finally, a couple of them snapped out of it and
rushed over to restrain the woman.

“If you continue this disturbance, we will be forced to take action!”

“Let go of me! How dare she show her face after killing someone else's
daughter!” Even as the police pulled her back, the woman refused to let go,
clinging to Vendia’s hair until the very last second.

“So, a daughter you disowned and haven’t contacted once in ten years is suddenly
precious to you now?”

A low, baritone voice suddenly cut through the chaos, its sheer weight
overwhelming the room. The station fell silent instantly, as if a bucket of ice
water had been dumped over everyone’s heads.

The woman stopped her screeching and flailing. In that brief window of stunned
silence, Vendia finally managed to reclaim her hair, though it was now a
tangled, bird-nest mess.

Every head in the room turned toward the source of the voice. Vendia, looking
like a disaster, was no exception.

A man was walking toward the cell, his expression an unshakeable, silent mask of
indifference that seemed to command the very air around him.

Vendia’s eyes shook with a violent tremor.

“It has been a long time, Wife.”

It was Denross Calvermer, her ex-husband.

The question: Describe the feeling of meeting your ex-husband while your hair is being
pulled in a jail cell.

Answer: It’s hell. I wish the world would end. I want all this to be a dream.

“Lady Dia… are you alright?”

Vendia squeezed her eyes shut, desperately praying for this to be a
hallucination, but Sasha’s cautious voice rang out far too clearly in her ear.

There was no way she was alright. Not even close!

She had planned to divorce him and live a life so successful it would make him
look twice. She was already doing it. So why, of all the possible times and
places, did they have to reunite like this?

“There really is no God,” she muttered to herself. “If there were, He wouldn't
do this to me.”

“…”

“May everything just go to ruin.”

Sasha watched Vendia, who was still eyes-shut and muttering curses, and hid a
small, secret smile.

“Um… excuse me, but who are you…?”

“Is that… is that the Duke of Calvermer?”

The officers’ eyes went wide. They had never seen the man in person, but his
strikingly handsome face was a constant fixture in the newspapers.

“Wh-what do you mean, disowned?! Ceracil was my precious daughter…!”

Denross tossed something onto the floor in front of the woman, who was now
stammering in a panic. She reached for it, but an officer was faster.

“She took money,” Denross said flatly.

“Pardon? From whom, Your Grace?”

“What did they tell you?” Denross continued, his eyes cold. “Did they say they’d
give you money if you went looking for the daughter you cast out? Or did they
tell you to name a specific person as the killer since your daughter was dead?”

Shocked by the accusation, the officer quickly checked the item. It was a record
of a bank transfer made to the woman's account just yesterday.

“Th-that’s not true! I am a mother who lost her daughter overnight! You couldn't
possibly understand my grief, Duke! Do not try to cover for her! That woman is
the killer! She was standing right next to my dead daughter!” the woman
shrieked, clutching at her last shred of defiance.

Vendia finally found her voice. “I truly am sorry for what happened. But when I
found Ceracil, she was dead in the same clothes she wore the day she moved
in, and her bags weren't even unpacked.”

“Don’t you lie to me! You murderer! You killed my daughter!” The woman glared at
Vendia with bloodshot eyes. She seemed beyond tears now, her face twisted with
pure spite.

Vendia was floored. She had initially tried to be understanding, thinking the
woman was simply consumed by grief. But this? Was it all an act?

“Do the police here typically designate suspects based solely on the testimony
of someone who isn’t even family?”

Denross’s voice was low and ominous, making the officers’ shoulders hunch
instinctively.

“Not family? Sir, this woman is the victim’s mother…”

“She was removed from the family register years ago.”

The officer read the paper Denross handed over, his pupils darting back and
forth in disbelief.

“Do you not even bother to verify basic facts?”

“W-well, that is…”

The room fell silent. Because the woman had claimed to be the mother and
provided testimony about their relationship, they had confirmed her identity but
hadn’t thought to check the official family register.

But they had a reason for their negligence. Investigator Gregory had ignored all
protocols, hauling the suspect into the station immediately on the grounds of
flight risk and the potential destruction of evidence. Since he had insisted on
taking full charge of the case, everyone else had just stepped aside.

“Gregory! You explain this!” one officer shouted as Gregory walked back into the
main room.

Every eye in the station locked onto him.

“What? What’s going on?” Gregory asked, looking around in confusion. Then he
spotted a silver-haired man who looked strangely familiar.

“You’re the one who dragged that woman in here, swearing she was the prime
suspect!”

“The victim isn't even legally this woman's daughter anymore!”

Gregory stood dazed as the wave of accusations crashed over him. He couldn't
wrap his head around what was happening.

“How do you intend to take responsibility for this?!” even his team leader
barked.

“I-I am certain! This earring was found right next to the body! It clearly
belongs to the suspect!” Gregory shouted. He had a reason for his unwavering
confidence. “I have the testimony of a servant who works at her mansion! He
confirmed the earring belongs to the suspect!”

“Who?”

“Hah! That stuttering brat muttered it himself! He said it was hers!”

Gregory had heard the stutterer whispering it clearly when the earring was
discovered at the scene.

“…”

Vendia’s face went stiff. There was only one person in the mansion who
stuttered.

“Maybe he was mistaken? There are plenty of earrings with similar designs,”
Sasha said, stepping in front of Vendia as if to shield her.

“Shut your mouth, girl! Know your place!” Gregory snapped.

“Is there any evidence other than that man’s testimony?” Denross asked.

“We are currently searching her home. The truth will be revealed soon,” Gregory
replied, his tone shifting back to respectful for the Duke.

“Ah, here they come now,” the team leader noted, spotting the search team
entering the station.

“Well?! What about the earring?!” Gregory rushed over to them.

“We found nothing. No suspicious circumstances, no incriminating items.
Nothing.”

“That… that can't be…”

The color drained from Gregory’s face in an instant. A heavy silence filled the
station. Everyone stared at him as if he were a complete incompetent.

“She hid it! She must have hidden it beforehand!”

“Then bring me proof that I hid it,” Vendia countered, having recovered from
her shock.

Gregory was practically foaming at the mouth, his eyes bloodshot. “I’ll bring
the witness! The witness who said the earring belonged to her!”

“Team leader! I think this man might be the killer.”

Another officer walked in, hauling a middle-aged man who could barely stand.

“What nonsense is this?!” Gregory screamed.

“Hic! I killed her… I did it!” the man mumbled, his face flushed a deep,
drunken red.

“A report came in from the marketplace,” the officer explained, the room falling
into a suffocating silence. “Someone was wandering around shouting that he’d
killed a person. After bringing him in and hearing his story, it sounds like
it’s connected to this case.”

Gregory, breaking into a cold sweat and with his eyes darting frantically,
grabbed onto his team leader as if he were a drowning man clutching a straw.
“Th-this was all part of the investigative process… Team leader, you
understand, don't you?!”

“Must we tolerate this absurdity any longer?” Denross’s icy voice sliced through
the air.

“Th-this is unfair! You can't just take the Duke's word for it because he
suddenly showed up! What business do you even have with this woman that you’re
going this far…?!”

“I am her husband.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Gregory’s face, already pale, turned
a ghostly, deathly blue.