Chapter 13
If you run away, just bring them back
“Ah, yes. But… are you really going to go that far?”
Raul, who had been examining the letter, hesitated. His tone implied whether they truly intended to use the method of “tightening the debtor’s throat.”
“We have to make sure we collect what’s owed,” Leopold replied indifferently.
Raul glanced toward the door where the woman had just rushed out and asked worriedly.
“She already seemed frightened. Will she be alright? What if she runs away…?”
“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.”
Only then did Leopold, who had been looking out the window, brush his hair back and smile faintly.
“If she runs, we just bring her back. It’s not like it’s the first time.”
Dust drifted quietly through the office, now tinged with a faint red atmosphere.
Leopold rose from the window frame where he had been leaning. He put on the dark gray frock coat handed to him by a servant and issued his next order.
“That aside, did you bring it?”
“Yes, here. As you instructed, we’ve raised the interest rate to 3%.”
Raul pulled an envelope from his inner pocket. The name “Crank” was written on the sender line.
After scanning the documents inside, Leopold casually tossed them onto the desk. He nodded in satisfaction.
“Good.”
“Yes, and the textile factory owner has been stalling for five days now, so it might be best if you visit him soon. And also…”
Ignoring Raul’s continuing report, Leopold left the office.
The steps of the merciless hunter were already moving without hesitation toward the fully set hunting ground.
* * *
Refusing even the carriage offered to her, Violeta ran all the way home in a panic, gasping for breath.
Inside the silent house, only her ragged breathing and violently pounding heart filled the space.
“So if you can’t do it, just say so. Say you accept the proposal. That you’ll cheat with me.”
The voice of the duke who had just driven her out echoed again in her mind. The dangerous whisper that had almost tempted her, and the strange emotions she had felt toward him, surfaced again.
Violeta shook her head violently.
No way. There would be no partnership with that mad duke. Rather than becoming someone like the princess, she would live her entire life as a debtor.
With that resolve, she looked out the reddening window. It was almost early evening, but there was no sign of anyone inside the house.
Marianne must be at the textile factory. And Reina…
“Did she go out?”
She looked around, but there was no note left by Reina. Only a pile of laundry lay scattered unusually in the corner of the living room.
Violeta tilted her head briefly, then headed toward her original destination—her room.
Only three days.
She had to gather 5 million crowns in that short time.
As she recalled that terrifying reality, her lips grew dry and her heart felt as though it were being squeezed at the edge of a cliff.
Inside her room, she stood in front of the wardrobe. With tense hands, she took out an old tin case decorated with biscuit drawings.
It contained the emergency savings she had scraped together over time.
Sitting on the bed, she shook the tin box.
Clatter, roll.
A few bundles of bills and coins spilled onto the bed. Among them fell a bank savings ledger.
Rustle, rustle, rustle.
With trembling hands, she flipped through the ledger. Finally finding the most recent page, her eyes landed on the pitiful balance.
“580,000 crowns and 4,300 pence…”
The whisper of her voice sounded exhausted. Even after counting the bills, it was only about 300,000 crowns. In total, around 880,000 crowns—her entire fortune.
Violeta buried her face in her hands.
Ah. Why had she said she would repay it in three days?
She had truly been reckless. Maybe she should have just begged instead. She had let herself be provoked by that damn duke and even thrown away her pride.
“Isn’t that the real luxury? You can’t even understand reality.”
Maybe he was right. A suffocating sense of regret filled her throat.
Her fixed monthly expenses made things even worse. She still had mountains of debt, and living costs and her younger brother’s support funds were paid every month without fail.
Among her clients, some even suggested sending her younger brother to a factory instead of school to help repay the debt.
But she couldn’t bring herself to crush his dream. Strictly speaking, wasn’t she the cause of her ruined life? The mistake of foolishly trusting people, trusting love.
So at least Lucas should be able to step one pace farther away from this harsh reality than she could. Replacing their late parents, she wanted to support him as much as possible with both love and guilt.
Fortunately, Lucas had received a scholarship, easing tuition worries. Because of that, she could not give up supporting him even more.
“……”
Violeta slowly lifted her exhausted face.
On the small framed portrait on the side table, Lucas at age five was smiling brightly.
At the very least, she hoped she would never be the one to distort that smile.
Even as she thought this, the innocent expression weighed heavily on her heart.
“Just a little longer… and things would have gotten better.”
If Lucas graduated from the military academy and became an officer, life would improve significantly. With a stable salary and status, bank loans would be easier, and interest burdens would be reduced.
If he managed to earn military achievements, even the hollow title of baron might be restored.
If that happened…
Even her marriage—already overshadowed by clouds—might one day see sunlight.
But then, this disaster had struck.
She felt as though she was standing on the edge of a cliff with no path ahead. Violeta bit her lower lip.
Still, she couldn’t give up here.
She gathered the spilled contents back into the tin case.
She would have to find some way to earn quick money. Even her jewelry might not fetch a good price if dismissed as fake by that duke.
If she could get even 1 million crowns, that would already be fortunate.
“Let’s try somehow.”
Reassuring herself with words she had repeated countless times, she closed the tin case tightly.
After preparing to visit a jeweler the next day, she stepped into the living room. The house was even redder than before.
“Where could she be at this hour…”
Reina still hadn’t returned. She had never been this late before. A vague sense of unease coiled deep inside her chest.
Her steps toward the table grew anxious. In the dark, she fumbled for a matchbox and lit a candle. Hiss—the flame illuminated the room faintly.
Then—
Bang! Bang!
The front door shook violently.
“Re…ina?”
Swallowing her trembling voice, Violeta cautiously approached the entrance. Another rough knock echoed.
Bang! Bang!
Wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt, she looked through the small window in the door.
And then…
“Re, Reina!”
Marianne was standing there, drenched in blood, barely supported by Reina beside her. With a sharp scream, Violeta flung the door open.
“What happened?”
“Ah, miss! What do we do… sob…”
Reina burst into tears, her face swollen. Violeta quickly moved to help support Marianne together with her.
Up close, Marianne’s hand was wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage. She was unconscious or semi-conscious—her eyes unfocused, her pale forehead drenched in cold sweat, and her lips drained of color.
“She… she said her finger got cut off…”
“What? How did this happen!”
After bringing her into the room and laying her on the bed, Violeta urgently asked again.
“It… it got caught in the weaving machine…”
Oh my God.
Her strength gave out and Violeta collapsed onto the floor.
According to Reina, the situation was this:
After hearing from a servant about Marianne’s accident, Reina dropped everything and rushed to the factory. The factory owner was demanding compensation for damaged cloth, while Marianne, bleeding heavily, kept bowing her head in apology.
She had fainted at a nearby hospital after emergency treatment, but surgery to reattach the finger required a massive sum. Even without surgery, treatment to prevent complications was necessary—but again, the problem was money.
Reina had used up all her money just to buy painkillers and bring her home.
Violeta looked at Marianne. Even under the blanket, her limbs trembled from chills.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips.
“How much… is the surgery?”
At her question, Reina collapsed to the floor and cried harder.
“100… thousand crowns… what do we do…”
Violeta closed her eyes tightly.
On top of the duke’s 5 million crown carriage repair cost, now there was 1 million for medical treatment.
She felt like she was trapped at the bottom of a swamp she could never escape.
And the worst part was—
“On top of that, compensation too?”
Reina nodded weakly.
“Another 1 million crowns… they said the blood-stained fabric alone is worth hundreds of sheets…”
Oh, dear God.
Violeta rubbed her temples.
500,000 crowns for the carriage, 1 million for surgery, 1 million for damages—7 million crowns in total.
Where, and how, was she supposed to get that kind of money?
“First…”
The surgery came first. Please, at least the jewelry must sell for 1 million crowns…
Then again, that whisper echoed in her mind:
“So if you can’t do it, just say so. Accept the proposal. Cheat with me.”
Once again, the duke’s voice rang inside her head.
