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Chapter 27
“Your hand?”
Isn’t holding hands while walking around a bit too couple-y?
Vendia stared at Chris’s outstretched hand. She noticed the slight tremble in his fingertips.
“I-I think it’ll help me calm down…”
“Of course.”
Vendia took Chris’s hand.
She didn’t hesitate. He was going through a lot because of her—there was no reason not to hold his hand.
“Huh?”
Something felt odd, so she looked down—and realized Chris had interlaced their fingers.
“Hehe.”
The anxious man from a moment ago was gone. Instead, Chris was smiling softly, ears flushed red with happiness.
With his heartthrob looks, a height that had him towering nearly a full head above her, and a strong build, one might assume he’d broken plenty of hearts. Yet here he was, acting like this just from holding hands.
Good grief…
But it felt nice.
Vendia smiled warmly and rubbed her nose with a finger, a bit shy.
They walked hand-in-hand around First District for quite a while.
The outing had a purpose—make sure the rumors spread so the boss hears about it—but…
“M-My Lady! This would look great on you!”
“Really?”
“M-My Lady! Look, look—it’s a flower!”
“Yep, a flower.”
“M-My Lady! This dessert looks delicious. Sh-Should I buy it for you?”
“Put your wallet away. I’ll get it for you.”
Before she realized it, Vendia was holding an ice cream cone.
She blinked blankly, watching Chris eat his chocolate ice cream.
Maybe he’d gotten used to the attention, but Chris bounced around excitedly like a happy puppy, dragging her along from place to place.
It really did feel like they were on a date. Even their outfits were coordinated and formal.
“This is delicious! M-My Lady, how’s your raspberry one?”
“Mine? Want to try? Hold on, how should I give—”
Just as Vendia was about to step into the shop to ask for a small spoon, she stopped in her tracks.
Chris had gently held her hand—the one holding the ice cream—and lowered his head to take a bite.
He naturally took a bite of her ice cream and looked up with a wide smile.
“It’s good. D-Do you want to try mine too?”
Chris held his own ice cream out to her with an innocent look on his face, completely unaware of what he had just done.
“No, that’s okay. I’m glad you liked it.”
Where do all these male leads learn stuff like this? Is there a secret academy for them or something?
Shaking her head, Vendia and Chris headed back to the tart shop.
By sunset, the long line in front of the shop had disappeared.
A sign said all the tarts had sold out, and a few disappointed customers were turning back.
Still, the lights inside the shop were on, likely as the workers prepared for the next day’s business.
“Let’s go.”
As they approached the tart shop, a loud crashing sound came from inside.
Clatter!
“Tch, they’re at it again,”
A person stepping out of the neighboring store clicked their tongue and muttered while glancing at the tart shop.
They seemed… very familiar with this situation.
“Bring it here, now!”
A man’s angry shout followed, along with the sound of a struggle.
The tone was so violent, Vendia instinctively frowned.
“Chris. We should call the police—”
“Even if we do, it won’t help. They always side with the husband and leave.”
The person from the neighboring shop responded, having overheard her.
Husband?
Putting the pieces together, Vendia immediately opened the tart shop’s door and stepped inside.
“M-My mother already took everything…”
“You think I don’t know you’ve been hiding money? Huh?!”
A frail-looking man was roughly searching the woman’s body.
She was cradling a newborn in her arms, not resisting for fear of hurting the baby.
“Oh really? You seriously thought you could steal my money?!”
The man pulled some bills from her pocket, his eyes gleaming dangerously.
“Charles, please! We need that money for tomorrow’s ingredients!”
“What, you dare touch your mighty husband’s money—gah!”
Just as Charles raised his hand, he let out a scream and clutched the back of his head.
A shoe had hit him and now rolled across the floor.
“Who the hell?!”
Fuming, Charles spun around.
Standing there was Vendia, holding the matching shoe in her hand.
“Eek!”
As she pretended to throw the second shoe, Charles flinched and covered his face with his arms.
“Coward.”
Vendia scoffed and lowered the shoe.
“W-Who the hell are you people?!”
Charles, eyeing their high-end clothes, couldn’t insult them directly and instead shouted in frustration.
“You know hitting people hurts, right?”
“She’s my wife! It’s none of your business, got it?!”
Wow. Vendia was speechless. He said it so confidently that someone might almost accept it without thinking.
“I don’t care who you are—this is a family matter! Should I call the cops?! Huh?! Let’s bring the police and settle this!”
Now he was trying to flip the situation, yelling about calling the police himself.
It was obvious why.
The police likely dismissed every report, saying it was a private matter between husband and wife.
Even the neighbor had said as much.
Domestic violence was just seen as a “marital dispute.” No one bothered to intervene.
“Family matters should be handled by the family. This has nothing to do with you—get out of my house!”
Charles now looked triumphant, thinking he had won.
“Waaaaah!”
“L-Lijen, don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry…”
Behind him, a pale and exhausted woman clutched her wailing child and tried to calm her down.
Bruises covered her exposed arms.
“She’s loud! Shut her up, woman!”
Charles growled, annoyed by the baby’s cries.
“I-I’m sorry, Charles. She must be hungry… It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t cry.”
The woman curled around her baby, shielding her protectively.
“……”
Is this what they mean by blood boiling in your veins?
Vendia’s tightly clenched fists trembled. Her hands had gone pale from the pressure.
How could he treat his wife like this—especially when she’s holding his child?
There were too many people in the world who should never have become parents. This man, and her own—Count Rose—among them.
She was disgusted by these inhuman excuses for parents.
What should I do with this scumbag? Beat him down? Or really call the police and raise hell so he’s forced into separation for a few days?
“Shall we bury him, My Lady?”
As she debated, Chris suddenly spoke loudly and clearly.
What’s with this guy and always wanting to bury someone?
Vendia stared at him, dumbfounded.
“W-Wait, ‘bury’?”
Charles’s reaction was strange. His face went pale, and he looked at them with genuine fear.
Ah, I see.
Vendia’s lips curled into a cold smirk as she caught on.
“Yeah. Garbage like this isn’t worth the air he breathes. Might as well bury him. Where would be good?”
“There’s still an empty spot where we buried the piranha guys in the clearing.”
“Perfect. Let’s proceed.”
“Yes, I’ll make preparations immediately.”
Their chemistry was flawless.
“Aaaaaaaah!”
Terrified, Charles ran out the back door, a bell jingling as he fled.
Vendia had looked like a mafia boss giving orders, while Chris had responded with the seriousness of a loyal right-hand man.
They had completely fooled him.
Though in reality, Vendia just looked like an angry chihuahua.
Still, a win’s a win.
“Shall I chase him?”
Chris asked, his eyes sharp.
Vendia shook her head lightly and approached the woman.
“Are you all right?”
“…H-Huh, huh…”
Tears fell silently from the woman’s eyes, splashing on the floor.
She had held her pain in for so long she could barely make a sound.
“Waaaaah! Waaaaah!”
As if crying for her mother, the baby in her arms screamed even louder.
