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AEVSM Chapter 29

AEVSM Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Betrayal Crosses the Line

 

On the day Daphne lay unconscious in her hospital bed, Misha found himself sitting across a table covered in scattered documents. The man on the other side was someone he never expected to face like this.

And the sheer tension—it was unbearable.

“Haha.”

It wasn’t a laugh. Just a stiff, deliberate sound escaping one syllable at a time.

Once a prince, now a rebel: the ghostly Duke Theriosa. In just two days, his face had grown gaunt, his body slouched insolently in the chair as he scrutinized the papers before him.

The sheets, fluttering onto the table one by one, were documents Misha had meticulously secured to prevent any leaks.

“How does he have these? The man who practically lived in the boss’s room…”

From the gallows to now, Celestian had stayed almost exclusively in Daphne’s quarters. Moreover, he had betrayed his own allies, cutting off his own support network with his own hands.

“I can understand gambling a hundred times over,” Celestian said, breaking the silence as he finally picked up a particular document.

“But why invest in this wasteland?”

“It’s not a wasteland. And as for why… I wanted to repay the debt I owe my lady.”

Misha’s reply was immediate. With everything laid bare in black and white, there was no point in lying.

The young Sasha brothers had avoided execution thanks to Daphne. On top of that, they had gained residence rights in Secradion, allowing them to live as citizens. The debt they owed her was colossal, and until it was repaid, they couldn’t hope to be free of her.

“It’s a wasteland,” Celestian retorted bluntly.

“It’s not,” Misha insisted.

The “wasteland” in question was, quite literally, barren land.

“Judging by the documents, this wasn’t an investment. It was a gamble.”

Celestian pointed out with a sarcastic chuckle.

“It was a gamble, yes. But where I come from, it’s legal. I didn’t know it was prohibited here. Even Count Baldwin vouched for it.”

According to Count Baldwin, the land was fertile and perfect for vineyards. A winemaker named Konya had allegedly been eyeing the region. A year ago, Misha had borrowed a modest sum to invest there, though it hadn’t sold yet, leaving him in a tricky spot.

“Baldwin’s a fraud. That’s a bogus listing.”

“What?”

Misha’s voice shot up in shock. He had suspected as much but hearing it confirmed was like a punch to the gut.

“You didn’t know? That explains why you’re still paying off your debts. Is that how a capable secretary should behave?”

“I visited the site. The weather…”

“Was lovely, I’m sure. May?”

Celestian asked if he had gone in May, and Misha nodded.

“Anywhere is lovely in May, especially this place. But every other season is plagued by floods, rotting vineyards, and endless rain.”

“……”

“Did you know that?”

Misha’s jaw dropped. Of course, he hadn’t known. The monthly photos always showed beautiful, sunlit vineyards.

Celestian glanced at Misha’s stunned gray eyes and tapped his chin lightly with his knuckles. Misha clamped his mouth shut.

“But others invested too, and they haven’t said anything…”

“I told you. Baldwin’s a smooth-talking conman. No one’s caught on yet.”

Misha stared at the vineyard photo on the table in front of him. Celestian had written mockingly beside it: “You’ve been duped.”

“Why didn’t you tell your lady? She could’ve helped you. Now look at all this interest piling up…”

Celestian clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow.

“Well…”

Misha couldn’t explain. This debt had been incurred to repay what he owed Daphne. The complexities of his situation tied his hands.

“I’ll take care of it for you,” Celestian said nonchalantly. His voice, oddly light, clashed with his still-dull green eyes.

“What?”

“In return, I’ll need a favor.”

Misha had expected that. He raised his palm flatly in rejection.

“I decline.”

“What if I tell your boss about this mess?”

Celestian’s tone was condescending, like an adult teasing a child about giving or withholding a toy. Misha ground his teeth in frustration, unable to pick up on the underlying mockery.

“I didn’t take you for someone so petty. Besides, if my boss hears about this while bedridden, she’ll drag me straight to hell.”

“Daphne can’t go to hell. I’ll be there to stop her.”

Misha was bewildered. If anything, he had heard more people say Daphne wouldn’t make it to heaven.

“What does that mean…”

“She says I’m an angel.”

Celestian’s smirk seemed to gleam momentarily. Misha regretted asking.

“Maybe that’s why petty things suit me so well.”

Celestian playfully tapped his cheek as if reading Misha’s mind.

“Even if Your Grace says so, my lady would trust me more. She’d probably just scold me a bit.”

Depending on Daphne’s mood, she might be harsher, but she had been in high spirits lately—thanks, undeniably, to the man before him.

“As you said, I’ll keep owing her, so you won’t have a chance to make me indebted to you.”

“Fair point.”

Celestian scratched his cheek and propped his chin in his hand. With his other hand, he traced slow circles on the table. The finger eventually began writing out a word.

His green eyes, still devoid of light, held a chilling sharpness.

“But what if I report that your lady has been harboring murderers?”

“What?”

“Runaway slaves from Agentar. Pirates from Libyan waters. Evidence that the supposedly burned-to-death Lebanese man was actually riddled with bullets—what if I had proof of all that?”

Celestian began gathering the scattered papers, tapping them neatly into a stack.

“If I report to the police about a woman harboring criminals who dyed their hair black to hide their identities…”

“You wouldn’t have any evidence.”

Celestian loosened his grip, letting the papers flutter back onto the table.

“Perhaps not,” he muttered lowly.

Misha immediately understood the implication behind his actions. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. He wavered between certainty that Celestian wouldn’t act on his threats and the creeping doubt that he might.

“You once said that if Daphne were in danger, you’d disappear on your own. Do you still stand by that?”

“I always keep my word,” Celestian replied, his tone unexpectedly firm.

The answer left Misha even more perplexed. It didn’t sound like a lie.

“What is it you want, exactly?”

“It’s simple.”

In the end, Misha had no choice but to comply.

Celestian’s demands were surprisingly modest: some cash and a single horse.

 

*****

Upon hearing the full story, Daphne’s face turned deathly pale.

“Wow. So…”

She repeated the phrase “Wow, so…” over and over, her mind seemingly stuck in a loop.

“Misha Serenade… betrayed me.”

Finally regaining some composure, Daphne tilted her head to the side, as though examining Misha with newfound curiosity.

“And yet, the traitor is still standing in my room? What’s a runaway slave doing here instead of leaving? Get out!”

Her sharp and icy tone cut through the air like a blade.

Daphne’s eyes fixed on Misha’s jet-black hair, which suddenly felt like an eyesore. She had dyed it herself not long ago. Now, the boy who had once seemed so small had grown taller than her in just a few years—and now, he had even betrayed her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Wow. Sorry?”

Daphne’s incredulous laugh burst out again and again, each time louder and angrier.

Unable to contain the fury boiling within, she raised her hand and slapped Misha hard across the face. The sound rang out sharply as his head snapped to the side.

“Ouch. That’s got to hurt.”

Kisha grimaced, running a hand over his own cheek in sympathy. He knew better than anyone how sharp Daphne’s long, slender hands could feel, like a whip cutting through skin.

The only consolation was that she wasn’t wearing any rings.

“My anger’s not even close to being settled.”

“My lady…”

“Hold still. Kisha, bring me a signet ring. Let’s brand this slave’s face. Who do you think you’re working for? Me or someone else?”

Raising her fist like a gangster, Daphne glared at Misha. Though her words were harsh, the ferocity in her demeanor had softened slightly after slapping him.

“My lady, please calm down.”

Kisha knelt in front of her, trying to intervene. Daphne grabbed a handful of his hair and tossed him aside, his large frame collapsing to the floor.

“What are you talking about, Kisha? I am perfectly calm. …No, one more hit. Hold still.”

Misha kept his eyes lowered. His cheek burned hot, and his jaw clenched involuntarily.

He considered himself lucky if being slapped was the end of it. If he were fired, he could still find work elsewhere, maybe even swallow his pride and ask Daphne for a letter of recommendation.

After all, resolving Baldwin’s meddling with his boss had been a significant achievement.

“But if she takes away my residency rights…”

He knew he deserved every bit of punishment she meted out, so he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the next blow.

“You idiot.”

Instead of another slap, he felt Daphne’s arms wrap around him. Her petite frame pressed against him as her hands soothingly ran over his back.

“Next time, just do the same. Take the money, do what they ask.”

“Why…?”

“Because people always take what they can first and deal with the aftermath later. When you’re cornered, that’s the only direction your brain goes. And who wouldn’t be tempted if someone offered to pay off such a massive debt?”

“…You’re not firing me?”

“You’re my talented secretary who brings me immense value and cleans up all my messes. Why would I throw you away? Do you think the time we’ve spent together is that shallow?”

Daphne took a step back, her eyes on Misha’s reddened cheek. Gently, she ran her fingers over the mark her slap had left.

“I hit you because you touched what’s mine. Do it again, and you’ll be done for.”

Even though she knew her actions were justified, Daphne still felt a twinge of guilt.

It wasn’t Misha’s fault for being tempted by money. He was just a boy burdened with debt and no other resources. But knowing he’d been manipulated by that worthless scum Baldwin, and worse, that a stranger had known about it before her—it was both infuriating and humiliating.

“Why were you trying to repay the debt? Do you hate working for me that much?”

“My lady, it’s not that—”

“Enough. You’ve still got a lot left to repay, so you’re not going anywhere.”

She swiftly dismissed the matter, her tone signaling that she didn’t want to hear excuses.

“My lady, please, let me explain—”

“Don’t bother. Instead…”

Misha wanted to tell her the real reason: that he hated the idea of her thinking he was tied to her because of debt. That he’d work for her for a lifetime, even without any obligation.

But Daphne wouldn’t believe such words, not without solid evidence.

“Did Celestian say where he was going? You don’t know, do you?”

Misha tried to reassure her that Celestian would return in a few days and had said as much before he left.

Whatever Celestian had done, it had resolved Misha’s debts.

The very next day, newspapers were filled with the story of Count Baldwin, who had liquidated all his assets to donate them to society before ending his life.

With his creditor gone, Misha’s debts were effectively erased.

“Did the Duke kill him? For me? Why?”

Watching Daphne’s visibly sullen expression, Misha bit his lip. He felt utterly helpless, unable to do anything to ease her mood.

“He promised to return, but what is he doing?”

Only unanswered questions lingered, growing heavier with every passing moment.

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