HOFRS 17

Chapter 17



ā€œā€¦Sorry.ā€

ā€œHuh? What was that?ā€

Vendia cupped her hand to her ear, pretending not to hear.

Baldini stood there, clearly reluctant, lips clamped tight. He couldn’t bring himself to speak.

She was irritating—pretending not to hear just to drag it out.

ā€œā€¦I said I’m sorry.ā€
ā€œOnce more, please.ā€

Baldini clenched his fists tight to stop them from trembling. He barely opened his mouth.

ā€œā€¦I apologize.ā€
ā€œLouder. Didn’t the Marquis ask you to apologize properly?ā€

ā€œI said I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I said I’m sorry!ā€

Finally losing his temper, Baldini shouted his apology, then practically slammed the fruit basket he was holding onto the coffee table.

Fuming, he glared daggers at Vendia, who was quietly giggling.

ā€œThis wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t hidden your identity in the first place.ā€

ā€œAnd none of it would’ve happened if you hadn’t done something worth apologizing for, regardless of who I was.ā€

Vendia smiled sweetly as she threw his words right back at him.

Baldini’s face turned beet red from anger.

He couldn’t believe he was the one being forced to apologize when it was clearly her fault.

Grinding his teeth, he turned sharply.

BANG!

The door to the drawing room slammed open, and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Even from afar, the sound of a woman laughing gleefully followed him.

ā€œDamn it! Damn it! Damn it!ā€

Baldini couldn’t calm his fury, overwhelmed by the shame.

To think his mother actually knew that woman. And not just knew—seemed rather close with her.

And she was theĀ formerĀ Duchess of Kalbermer?

The ex-wife of Duke Denros Kalbermer, who now held the Emperor’s favor.

ā€œNo, it doesn’t matter. They’re divorced now.ā€

Divorced people are practically strangers.

His mother might care for a while, but it wouldn’t last.

He could let today go—for now. But he would never forget this humiliation.

Clenching his jaw so hard that the muscles in his face bulged, Baldini stormed out of the entrance.

ā€œMarquis!ā€

Gregory rushed over, but Baldini, still seething, swung his hand.

SMACK!

His thick palm struck the back of Gregory’s head. Gregory clutched his head with both hands, unable to even cry out.

ā€œIf you hadn’t caused that scene, none of this would’ve happened today!ā€

ā€œā€¦I’m sorry.ā€

Gregory bit his lip hard. His heart was churning with both injustice and frustration.

He hadn’t even done anything this time, and yet he’d been hit. Of course he was upset.

Still, he had something important to discuss with Baldini, so he tried not to show his anger.

ā€œP-please, Marquis! You said you’d vote for our familyā€”ā€

ā€œShut it! Can’t you see what a mess you’ve caused today?ā€

Baldini raised his hand again to strike but stopped with a growl of frustration.

ā€œI still don’t understand why you apologized to that womanā€¦ā€

ā€œYou idiot. Like I’d tell the likes of you. Out of my way!ā€

Thanks to Elstein’s strict gag order, Baldini couldn’t say anything. He shoved Gregory aside irritably and stomped out across the courtyard.

Gregory stared daggers at Baldini’s retreating back, veins bulging at his neck.

He had just lost an extremely valuable connection.

Gregory remained standing there until Baldini’s carriage finally departed the mansion.

Once the carriage disappeared—

His cold, venomous eyes turned toward one place.

That towering, unimpressive mansion.


ā€œDefinitely popular for a reason.ā€

A few days later, Vendia returned toĀ The LineĀ and murmured her thoughts.

She hadn’t paid close attention her first time here, but now that she looked properly, it made sense why young people flocked here.

With every element young people liked packed into one place,Ā The LineĀ felt more like a lifestyle complex than just a shopping area.

She could see why it had succeeded within just a year.

But with her background in marketing from her past life, the flaws were immediately obvious to her.

First, Second, Third.

The three shopping districts all shared the same format—like malls.

In other words, each zone lacked its own distinct personality or theme.

Because of that, most of the foot traffic was concentrated in the First district, which was packed with trendy eateries.

Third had about half as many customers, and Second was practically empty.

ā€œYou’re seriously thinking of starting a business?ā€

ā€œNot necessarily, but it doesn’t hurt to learn. Call it market research?ā€

ā€œOoh, market research! That sounds fancy. If you do open something and it takes off, let me be part of it!ā€

Sasha laughed, half-joking, half-serious.

Vendia smiled and nodded lightly.

They had come today because Sasha had just gotten paid and wanted to try the popular tarts people lined up for.

ā€œI’ll go wait in line! I finally get to try it!ā€

ā€œSasha.ā€

Just as Sasha excitedly dashed off, Bendia called her back.

ā€œUse this to pay.ā€

ā€œWow! Really?ā€

ā€œAnd buy one for Chris, too.ā€

ā€œā€¦ā€¦ā€

When Vendia handed her the money, Sasha’s excited expression crumpled like a child forced to share. She wrinkled her nose with a pout.

ā€œNo favoritism over food, okay?ā€

Still, she pressed the bills into Sasha’s hands, and the girl reluctantly accepted them with a grumble.

ā€œTch… Fine.ā€

She clearly didn’t want to, but even she realized she was being petty and quickly gave in.

ā€œSee you in a bit.ā€

After parting with Sasha, Vendia wandered leisurely through the First district again.

ā€œMaybe I reallyĀ couldĀ open a cafĆ©.ā€

Something that perfectly fit the tastes of noble ladies—wouldn’t that be a hit?

Like someone planning how to spend a lottery prize, Vendia was already imagining the interior design and menu.

There was a reason she was so focused on starting a business.

ā€œCongratulations on your fresh start.ā€

Those words Elstn had said still lingered warmly in her heart.

A fresh start.

Running the mansion was good, but that had been something Denros hadĀ givenĀ her.

Bendia wanted something that she had built with her own hands from the beginning. That felt like aĀ trueĀ fresh start.

While thinking about how to make that happen, she realized she’d wandered to the very end of the First district, where foot traffic was sparse.

There were no shops here, only storage buildings—deserted and quiet.

She turned to head back to the central street.

ā€œAh…!ā€

That’s when it happened.

The tiny pearl on her brooch came loose and rolled away.

The smooth pavement had no slope, yet the pearl rolled quickly into a shadowy alley.

It was one of the few items she’d taken from her mother’s jewelry collection—no doubt valuable.

With no choice, Vendia quickly followed it into the alley.

ā€œWhere did it go? It’s too dark to see anythingā€¦ā€

The alley was already dim, and her shadow only made the ground harder to see.

She squinted, scanning the floor for the pearl—when something bumped into her toe.

It wasn’t the pearl.

Heavy. Black. Like… a person’s leg.

ā€œā€¦ā€¦ā€
ā€œā€¦ā€¦ā€

Startled, she looked up. Her eyes met another woman’s—

—who was casually wiping blood from her face.

Frozen in place from the shock, Vendia’s eyes slowly dropped.

What her foot had touched was a man lying unconscious—or worse—on the ground.

I’m screwed.

A mental alarm screamed in her head.

ā€œOh? Caught me, huh?ā€

 

The woman tilted her head with a crooked smile.