CWMBR 112

Chapter 112

***

Sponsored by Elisa. Thank you ❤️(8/10)

***

Ain, who had been looking puzzled at Bridget's cold and distant expression, spoke in an indifferent tone.

"Anyway, just look at what she's doing now. Doesn't that prove she's stupid?"

He gestured toward the newspaper. It was the paper carrying the article attacking the Glynford Grand Theater and Bridget. Ain seemed convinced this article was the wrong response.

"I listened to her because I assumed that no matter how much a person changes, if they were inherently good, they'd still be that way. In the end………………”

Ain's gaze darkened.

"It was a big mistake."

"You held onto a naive belief that doesn't suit you."

"Exactly."

Bridget, who had been glaring at Ain as he readily admitted his mistake, rose with a displeased expression. Continuing the conversation would only irritate her further; ignoring him would be better.

***

Ain, who had planned to stay glued to Bridget all day again, reluctantly went to the office in response to Fergus's urgent summons. He hadn't wanted to come, remembering the satisfied look in Bridget's eyes when he left the mansion, but some matters required his personal attention.

Bridget had said he didn't need to come back at all this time, but Ain planned to return to her mansion after finishing urgent business at the office.

"Oh, quit being a servant already?"

Declan greeted him with a lively voice as he entered the office. After accepting Bridget's request, he was temporarily borrowing a desk in Ain's office to work. Ain glanced at the piles of documents and letters covering the desk and replied indifferently.

"I plan to return within an hour, so report quickly."

“Oh dear, only an hour of freedom? Madame Wise will be heartbroken…”

Declan sighed dramatically, as if for everyone to hear, then quickly averted his eyes when Ain shot him a glare. Ain, glaring at him disapprovingly, went to sit at his own desk. Fergus promptly approached.

“We need to select a company to transfer the bonds to. You need to review the list yourself.”

Fergus handed over a sheet of paper.

"Word has spread somehow, and several parties have contacted us expressing interest in forming a connection."

The paper listed company names, brief histories, operational methods, and employee counts. Ain scanned the contents quickly.

"If the bonds are transferred, Ronan Pennington's credit rating will also drop."

"Hmm."

Ain stared silently at the list, propping his chin on his hand, and asked in a disinterested tone.

"How far down do you think we can push it?"

"Well, as far as you wish."

"To the point he can't even go near a bank for the rest of his life?"

"It's possible."

Ain put down the paper at his immediate reply, as if there was no need to deliberate. Then, he tapped one company with his index finger.

"This one should be good. Since it's the first deal, they'll probably do well. As much as you want."

"As you said, they were very enthusiastic. They were confident they could handle the bonds cleanly. Shall we proceed?"

"Yes."

Declan, who had been watching Ain and Fergus's smooth conversation with occasional glances, suddenly interjected.

"Ain, I plan to put Ronan Pennington on trial. If you're thinking of pulling him out, that won't do."

This was a case he was personally focused on, and Declan had no intention of compromising on the other party's safety. Without even looking at Declan, Ain retorted.

"Bring him in. I won't stop you."

"Then what was that just now………………."

"If the father can't repay the debt, who do you think it'll fall to?"

Contrary to Bridget's assumption, Ain wasn't being particularly lenient with Donna. To be honest, Ain was quite angry with her and no longer felt any need to be patient. In fact, he felt even more irritated that his past patience seemed to have ruined one of the few precious memories from his past. If he'd known she could make someone this foolish, he would have dealt with her properly from the start.

What good were childhood memories anyway?

"It’ll go to the child."

Declan's eyes widened at that statement, which made it painfully clear he intended to drag Donna Green into this too.

"Wasn't she supposed to be spared?"

"Even when she’s the root cause of all this?"

Declan cleared his throat at the cold retort. Well, he had held back this long, so in his own way, he'd given her ample opportunity. If only she hadn't waved that photo around spouting absurd lies, things wouldn't have reached this point.

"True enough. But getting tangled up with those guys would turn anyone's life upside down."

"If she has the will to repay, she won't be dragged into the mire."

The companies buying debt from Ain were a bit rough around the edges, but that didn't mean no debtors ever escaped their clutches. Rarely, but occasionally, someone would work relentlessly, somehow shed their debt, and become free.

Well, if Donna Green had the will, she could start doing sewing work right away to pay off her debt.

Declan clicked his tongue at Ain’s utterly indifferent remark.

"It'd be better to formally file a complaint. What is that supposed to be..."

Generally, the Wise family chose dignified methods for any dispute. Here, 'dignified method' meant legal proceedings under a judge's mediation. In other words, the official route.

But when Ain turned his gaze slightly away, it invariably made the other party utterly exhausted. Usually, in such cases, the other party got to experience just how vast and diverse the world beyond the law truly was.

Regardless of whether Declan sighed or not, Ain swiftly processed the few documents before him. His claim of returning within an hour seemed no lie; his pace was remarkably fast. Thus, the moment he signed the final document and was about to set down his pen, Iliont, who had been waiting for his chance, placed a box on his desk.

"What's this?"

"These are items discovered at Mrs. Olden's mansion. They were the deceased's private records, so I set them aside separately."

"I told you to dispose of everything."

The great-grandchild who inherited Mrs. Olden's mansion had long ago instructed him to throw away everything inside. Ain himself had no intention of carefully sorting through the old furniture and belongings to use them, so he had told them early on to dispose of it all as they saw fit.

At Ain's words, Iliont replied with an awkward expression.

"Well, there were also envelopes addressed to Madame Wise."

Ain, who had been about to sweep the box away with a callous hand, paused.

"………………Bridget?"

"Yes."

While Fergus had no particular thoughts about Ain's sudden habit of clocking in at Bridget's mansion, Iliont sensed something was amiss. That's why, when these letters were first discovered, he ignored Fergus's suggestion to simply throw them away and collected each one. Now, reporting to Ain, he instinctively knew his choice had been correct.

Ain, who seemed ready to order them thrown out immediately, rummaged through the box. As Iliont had said, Bridget's name was written on the envelopes. To anyone's eyes, these were letters exchanged with Mrs. Olden.

So she hadn't just visited the mansion—she'd exchanged letters too?

There weren't just one or two envelopes. It seemed the elderly lady and the young girl had shared a rather substantial friendship. His simple reason for buying the mansion—that he liked his memories—suddenly felt a bit embarrassing.

Ain recalled Bridget urging him to sell her the mansion.

Would she be pleased if he brought her these letters?

Ain, who had never written a single line of correspondence for the sake of friendship, could never understand it, but to Bridget, this pile of old, brittle paper would surely hold considerable value. Ain decided to bring them to Bridget.

Just as he closed the box lid after making his decision, the neat handwriting on one of the torn envelopes caught his eye. Ain, as if spellbound, pulled the envelope out.

Had it not been addressed 'To Her Majesty the Queen of the Ice Palace' on the outside, he wouldn't have even considered reading its contents.

"Ain, reading someone else's letter like that is... Oh well. Your relationship's already ruined. Adding one more nasty thing won't make the world collapse. I don't care."

Ignoring Declan's muttering, Ain unfolded the paper as if bewitched. With a rustle, the neat handwriting on the old paper revealed itself.

<……………Let's go to Elver together later. The sun there is much warmer and brighter than in Glynford. When you see the grand mansion there, Mrs. Olden will agree with me. It looks exactly the same! But the people there were unlike Mrs. Olden—they were cold and scary.>

Despite the passage of time, the writing filled his vision with startling clarity. His blue eyes latched onto familiar words. Unbelievably, the content was something he knew all too well. Ain's face turned pale and stiff.

<This is a secret I've never told even my parents, but I'll confess it only to you, Mrs. Olden. The truth is, Kai was locked up in that grand mansion. Kai, with blue eyes and black hair—very handsome, but with a terrible temper.>

Occasionally, when he recalled the past, he hoped that boy—foolish yet innocent—had grown into an adult who still believed in fairy tales. He believed that boy would have done so.

<……………But I'll never see him again. The one I met there was Kai, but the brother who left that place is no longer Kai.> 

Ain realized.

He shattered his own wish with his own hands.

Ah, I pulled you out of the fairy tale.