Chapter 1
The Villainess’s Son (Part 2)
My previous life was filled with poverty and loneliness.
One day, I suddenly lost my parents in an accident and had to survive for myself. I hated everything—the debt my father left behind, the relatives who abandoned me after learning how much it was, all of it.
Just once, I wished for a normal, happy family.
Maybe someone had granted my wish. On an especially unlucky day, I died in an accident.
I had tried to return a wallet I found, only to be accused of theft.
“Hey, there’s some money missing from this wallet.”
After hours of defending myself and checking CCTV footage, I finally cleared my name but lost my part-time job for being late. The weight of next month’s bills crushed me.
As I crossed the street, I thought bitterly, “What’s next? Getting hit by a car?”
And then it happened.
“Damn it… After everything I went through.”
I died.
And then I woke up in an unfamiliar yet oddly familiar place.
“She’s your daughter!”
I was still trying to grasp the situation when I overheard a name that sounded familiar.
‘That name… I’ve heard it before….’
When I finally realized where I was, I couldn’t help but be shocked.
‘This can’t be happening!’
Esmeralda. Genewarth. Lancaster.
It was impossible not to recognize those names. They were from a book I always kept on the shelf in my tiny apartment.
When I screamed in disbelief, the sound of a baby crying rang out.
Not only did the names match, but the blurry figures before me confirmed it.
If my vision had been clearer, I would’ve seen a woman smiling weakly despite her exhaustion from childbirth, holding hands with a man exuding an air of restraint and dignity.
It seemed I was the daughter of Esmeralda and Genewarth—the heroine and hero of the novel.
‘This is more unbelievable than winning the lottery…’
Oddly enough, I adapted quickly to my new life. Perhaps being reborn made it easier.
Once I adjusted, I realized just how fortunate I was.
As expected of the heroine and hero, my parents weren’t ordinary.
‘Seriously, they look like they’re glowing…’
My family was one of the wealthiest in the empire, which ranked among the top three. Along with the immense support they gained from stopping the villainess Robellin And appearances that surpassed human beauty. My mother and father had it all.
At first, it was terrifying to realize that all this attention was focused on me, their daughter.
“Isn’t this room too small for my daughter?”
“Instead of expanding it, how about tearing down the wall and combining it with the next room?”
“Let’s do that.”
“Genewarth, look! Belle just grabbed my finger!”
“I’m doomed.”
“Because she’s too cute?”
“No… I didn’t know having a child could make me this happy. Here, Belle, take Dad’s finger too.”
It was a perfect family in every way.
“Esmeralda, Belle just…”
“Belle? What did she do, Genewarth?”
“She…rubbed her eyes.”
Their overwhelming affection was so excessive that sometimes it almost felt suffocating.
“It’s like I became a billionaire overnight.”
Even the rattle my dad placed in my cradle was probably more expensive than my monthly salary in my previous life. I was always too scared to touch anything for fear of breaking it and being scolded.
“Oh no! I accidentally dropped it!”
But even when I messed up, my parents didn’t scold me.
“Belle, if you don’t like that, how about this one?”
“Would this be easier to hold?”
“Oh, I think she’ll manage just fine. Belle, want to try throwing it?”
Instead of getting upset, they’d just bring me a pile of new toys.
In such an environment, I gradually adapted to this new life. Before I knew it, even tiny gemstones felt ordinary to me.
A few stable years passed, and I turned ten. That’s when I met him—the villainess’s son.
“Hello, Lord Calixte?”
Emil Lachlan Ronsiste Calixte.
At first glance, he was surprisingly normal… well, apart from his looks.
If he’d shown any signs of the cruelty his mother, Robellin, was infamous for, I would’ve kept my distance. But he didn’t. Nor did he seem cold-hearted like his father, Duke Calixte.
Emil was simply a quiet boy.
“Do you prefer being alone?” I asked.
Up close, Emil’s appearance was stunning. Even at a young age, his sharp, defined features drew attention immediately.
His beautiful silver-gray hair exuded elegance but carried an air of melancholy, like a wounded young predator.
And those golden eyes, inherited from his mother, glowed like jewels. They felt out of place, almost unnatural.
“…No, not really,” he replied hesitantly.
“Then let’s play together!”
I think his striking looks caught my attention, but it was his loneliness that made me want to befriend him.
A child shouldn’t suffer because of their parents’ sins. In my previous life, I never even knew what my parents looked like, and I hated the fact that they had abandoned me, leaving me to survive for myself.
Perhaps that’s why I wanted to be Emil’s friend—so he wouldn’t have to experience the same loneliness.
But I had no idea. I couldn’t have imagined that everything would one day fall apart.
Over time, Emil seemed to gradually adjust to being around people. But as he integrated more with others, he also started to disappear without explanation.
“Emil, is something going on lately?”
A faint, practiced smile flitted across his face before vanishing.
“No. Nothing at all.”
By the time I realized something was wrong, it was already too late.
Emil vanished abruptly when I was nineteen. Even after I sent a letter to Duke Calixte’s estate, the only reply I received was that Emil had gone to the northeastern territories to recover.
That’s ridiculous.
Avoiding the Duke’s watchful eye, I spent weeks investigating the capital. I poured all my efforts into uncovering the truth, hiring informants and scouring through baseless rumors in high society.
And then, I found him. Or rather, he found me.
One night, the missing Emil suddenly appeared in my room. It was the night before my long-delayed wedding.
Dressed in black, he reeked of blood.
“Bellecia.”
A chilling sense of dread washed over me. The mansion was unnaturally quiet, and the sound of blood dripping onto the carpet made my head spin.
“I’ve ruined everything,” he whispered.
“What are you talking about?”
“I killed the Marquis and Marchioness.”
I couldn’t comprehend his words. Stupidly, I asked again, and Emil repeated himself.
“I killed the Marquis and Marchioness.”
I didn’t want to believe it. Barefoot, I ran out of the room into the hallway, only to step into something wet and sticky, it was blood.
A trail of bloody footprints stretched from my door.
Where did they lead?
Before I could process Emil’s confession, rage and despair surged through me.
“Why…!”
I turned to confront him, but the moment I moved, I saw it—a blade plunging into my stomach.
“Why…?”
“…I’m sorry.”
It was my second death, which was harder to accept than the first. Emil’s actions felt reluctant, as if he had no choice.
As I lay dying on his lap, the darkness swallowed me again. At the end of that darkness, I saw the story’s original events unfold once more.
And then, I opened my eyes again.
“Miss, are you awake?”
I was back. Time had rewound itself, and I was ten years old again.
