Wasn’t I the Female Lead of a Regret Novel? [Novel] Chapter 50

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CHAPTER 49

What on earth happened here?

“That guy gave it to you? That mansion?”

“Yes.”

“As alimony?”

“That’s right.”

“…No way. Just that one lousy mansion?”

“…”

Silence was an affirmation, and Ron understood it as such. Was she not the very person who had been fretting over a single monthly rent?

“Wow… I knew it since the old days, but that bastard is completely hopeless.”

Despite Ron’s sharp criticism, Denross, sitting across from them with his legs crossed and arms folded, merely kept his eyes closed in silence.

For a man who had given away a single lousy mansion, he remained as unshakeable as a statue.

At Denross’s insistence on driving her home, the three of them were currently traveling together in a single carriage.

Ron had even brushed off his servant, Baum, who had been weeping and begging him to return home, and insisted on climbing into the carriage.

Even the seating arrangement was absurd.

Ron sat beside her, while Denross sat directly across from the two of them.

Ah, then again… It would have felt awkward no matter how we sat.

At this point, Vendia truly doubted whether Ron and Denross were actually acquaintances.

After all, Denross had not replied to Ron a single time, nor had he even spared him a glance.

Even so, Ron seemed accustomed to the lack of response, relentlessly criticizing Denross without backing down.

Just how was he as a child for Ron to hate him this much? If he was no different back then from how he is now, having experienced him as an ex-husband, she knew for sure he couldn't have been pleasant.

As Ron finally quieted down, silence settled over the interior of the carriage.

Vendia leaned her exhausted body against the seat.

Too many things had happened in such a short amount of time.

There was a mountain of things to look into.

She needed to confirm with Chris whether that testimony was true, and she had to ask Sasha how she knew about the earring.

And above all, why Ceracil had died.

The carriage rolled on and on, eventually arriving in front of the mansion.

Escorted by no one, Vendia burst out of the carriage first as if fleeing and went straight inside.

Left alone in the carriage by complete happenstance…

“…”

“…”

The two men, who had both reached out a hand, pulled them back without a word and stepped down from the carriage.

Just as Ron walked through the familiarly open front gate…

“How far do you intend to follow?”

For the first time today, Denross spoke to Ron.

“Well, look at that. I thought you couldn't see me, but turns out you can.”

As Ron sneered sarcasm, Denross shot back a glance that demanded a real answer.

“Unpleasant bastard.”

At that attitude and gaze, unchanged since childhood, Ron’s face crumpled. But that lasted only a moment.

“Answer me.”

At Denross’s eventual demand, Ron’s eyes widened slightly.

“What? Are you seriously asking because you don't know? That I live here?”

“…”

Denross’s hitherto unreadable expression stiffened in an instant. Not missing a single beat of it, Ron felt puzzled before breaking into an intensely amused laugh.

“It’s a mansion you gave her, yet you don't even know that? Your marriage must have been something else.”

In a thoroughly foul-turned-great mood, Ron whistled as he crossed the yard.

Standing frozen in place, Denross stepped inside along with the gentle breeze blowing past.

At that exact time…

Vendia was searching every nook and cranny of the house for Chris.

Yet he was nowhere to be found, neither in the yard nor anywhere inside.

Eventually, she went up to his room and knocked on the door, but no answer came.

“Chris, I’m coming in.”

Opening the door, Vendia stood rooted on the spot, unable to step inside.

The room was completely empty, without a single piece of Chris’s luggage left behind, as if he had never stayed in this room at all.

Without leaving anything behind or saying a single word, Chris had vanished.

“Sasha. You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s true! How else would I have known if not for that?”

“So a priest tipped you off?”

“Yes!”

“Then how did the priest know?”

“Well, I wouldn't know that! But it was also the priests who let us know that the energy of death could be felt on the third floor!”

Sasha wore an aggrieved expression, as if pleading her absolute innocence.

Should I believe this or not?

When asked how she knew about the earring and why she had told her to claim it wasn't hers, she claimed a priest had informed her.

It was hard to believe, but without believing it, there was no other way to explain this.

Because the only other way Sasha could have known would mean she was the one who stole the earring and placed it there.

“Haah…”

Feeling her head spin, Vendia flopped down onto her bed.

According to Peter, he hadn't seen Chris packing his bags or leaving the house. He had simply vanished into thin air at some point.

“Gregory said it, didn't he? That Chris said the earring was mine.”

“He did.”

“…I guess that was true. He really did try to frame me as the culprit.”

Judging by how he had suddenly vanished without a word.

She didn't want to suspect him, but the situation left her with no choice.

Besides, the day before going to the police station, she had seen Chris using a suspicious ability on Peter.

Was Chris also the one who wrapped up Kate’s divorce in just two weeks?

Leaving behind nothing but unresolved questions, he had disappeared.

“What kind of mistake?”

At Sasha’s follow-up question, Vendia couldn't answer and shut her mouth tight.

It seemed Chris was not the male lead after all.

Two days later.

The truth behind Ceracil’s death was brought to light.

The heavily intoxicated man brought in by the police at the time confessed to all the crimes.

Suffering from extreme financial hardship, someone had thrust money into his hand to hire him, and the culprit complied.

On the day Ceracil moved in, he snuck inside and followed her in the moment she opened the house door.

After finishing the job, he claimed he escaped through the window.

The police stated they were investigating who had commissioned the murder, but Vendia doubted they would ever be able to uncover it.

Why the culprit, who supposedly had no history of drunken outbursts, went around blabbering about his crimes while drunk remained a mystery.

Perhaps it was due to whatever faint trace of human conscience he had left. Or perhaps there was another reason entirely.

“Rest in peace.”

Vendia straightened her bent back and placed a bouquet of chrysanthemums before the tombstone.

Having been disowned from her family registry, there was no way anyone other than family would take care of Ceracil.

Vendia had buried Ceracil in a sunny spot and even erected a tombstone for her.

May her unfair death find even a shred of comfort. May she find peace over there.

With a heavy heart, Vendia left the graveyard and pulled a note out of her pocket.

This was a note found among Ceracil’s belongings.

Tightly rolled into a tiny scroll, the note had been tucked inside the inner hem of Ceracil’s skirt. It had even been sewn shut with needlework, looking like an ordinary skirt to the naked eye.

It had been hidden away so thoroughly, as if she had foreseen her own murder.

Naturally, not only Vendia but also the police had failed to find this note.

Sasha, who was organizing the belongings with her, noticed that the fabric on one side was sewn unnaturally and checked it, leading to its discovery.

If Sasha hadn't spotted it, it would have disappeared forever.

Hiding it so covertly in the first place meant that hiding it anywhere ordinary would have resulted in it being discovered and taken away.

The words she wanted to convey, even while hiding them so meticulously…

Did she want to pass this on to anyone, no matter who, as long as it reached someone?

This felt like Ceracil’s final testament.

Ceracil was said to be a researcher at the Magic Tower.

Vendia could still vividly recall the sight of her looking anxious, as if being chased by someone.

If so, there was a high probability that her death was connected to the Magic Tower.

Everything was pointing toward the Magic Tower.

It seemed she would have to look into it.

About the Magic Tower, and what these alphabets stood for.