Even the Devil Regrets it - Chapter 42

What? The part was missing?

As soon as Juliana heard Atlante’s words, a cold shiver ran down her spine.

If a wheel part was actually missing from the carriage Marquess Grant Everett had taken, then his death had not been an accident.
It meant someone had planned it. It was attempted murder.

She had believed that he died in a simple carriage accident, but now it was clear that wasn’t the case.

Juliana bit her lip hard. She couldn’t stop thinking about Felix.

No, she was almost certain. No one knew Felix Everett better than she did, and everything about this situation pointed to him.

Was he really that vile of a person?

She already knew Felix was beyond saving, but if he had truly been involved in his own father’s death, then “vile” wasn’t even enough to describe him.
He wasn’t just trash. He was inhuman.

“We should head back for now.”

She had achieved her goal of saving Grant Everett. That was enough for today.
There was still time to uncover Felix’s involvement later.

Juliana quickly turned and began walking away, with Atlante flying just behind her.

When she returned to the Earl of Barnett’s estate, she was summoned straight to the earl’s study.
The countess was already there, as if she had been waiting.

“How is the Grand Duke?” the earl asked.

“He’s doing much better,” Juliana answered.

The Countess of Barnett, who had been silently listening, couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I heard he has a terrible scar on his face. Is that true?”

Juliana knew well how the Grand Duke’s long absence had fueled gossip.
The word “scar” was actually a polite version.

There were all sorts of wild rumors.
Some said his face was rotting. Others claimed he had bled so much that he couldn’t even recognize people anymore.

“No, that’s not true. His wounds have healed completely. He looks fine now.”

“I see,” the countess replied with a disappointed look.

It was clear she had been hoping for a dramatic story to stir up attention in high society.
She had wanted to use news of the Grand Duke to make herself the center of conversation, but that plan had clearly failed.

“When is the contract going to be signed?” the earl asked, clearing his throat as if to shift the topic.

That was probably the real reason he had called her in.
The condition of Grand Duke Ortis didn’t matter nearly as much to him as the signing of the contract that would hand over the Kaerbro Mine.

“He said it would be signed along with the marriage contract.”

“Damn it. Would it kill him to hand it over a little earlier?” the earl muttered, grinding his teeth.

He had already started spending money freely, thinking the Kaerbro Mine was practically his.

He had been throwing money around to build social connections.
The countess had been attending every high society party she could, buying only the finest dresses and jewels.

Tristan had even bought a house for Aileen and was spending heavily to keep up her appearance.

Naturally, the family had begun to suffer from a growing lack of funds.

The earl was now depending entirely on the Kaerbro Mine to fix their financial situation.
And the more their money ran dry, the more bitter he became toward Grand Duke Ortis.

Juliana already had a general idea of how unstable the Barnett family’s finances really were.

So Juliana had asked Braeden for one thing: never hand over the Kaerbro Mine first.

Braeden had agreed without even asking why.
She didn’t want the Barnetts to have a single moment of peace.

Juliana smiled with a blade hidden behind her calm expression.

“There’s less than a week left. Just hold on a little longer.”

The Earl of Barnett, never known for his patience, could not hide his irritation despite Juliana’s calm tone. He let out a huff of frustration.

“Fine, fine. You can go back to your room now.”

The countess, acting as if their business was finished, dismissed her.

“Yes, then please rest well.”

Juliana gave a polite bow and left the study. She made her way to her room.

When she opened the door, the old hinges creaked loudly. She had lived in this house for over ten years, yet it felt strangely unfamiliar.

The plain furniture, colorless wallpaper, and faded curtains. The entire room looked bleak and lifeless, completely unfit for someone her age.

Juliana let out a short, bitter laugh.

She hadn’t even spent a full month at the Grand Duke’s townhouse, but somehow, she had already grown used to finer things.
It wasn’t just about luxury or physical comfort.

The maids who chatted with shining eyes every time they saw her.
The aides who went out of their way to do more for her.
And Braeden…

Just the memory of his red eyes made something in her chest feel heavy.

She could still feel the warmth of his breath near her ear, hear the mischievous laughter that echoed like distant drums in her heart.

Letting out a deep sigh, Juliana pulled back the curtain and looked outside.
What she saw couldn’t compare to the Grand Duke’s Garden. It was dull and empty.

It was as if the world itself was reminding her not to forget where she truly belonged.

The Everett household was in chaos.

Marquess Grant Everett had nearly died in what appeared to be a carefully disguised carriage accident.

“We must uncover whoever is behind this!”

Grant Everett shouted in fury, his voice shaking the room.

“We will do our best. I swear we’ll find the culprit, but please rest for now, my lord.”

The captain of the city patrol wiped the sweat from his brow as he tried to calm the Marquess.
He left after promising to report back soon.

Felix stepped into the study as the door closed behind the captain.

“Father, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal. You should get some rest.”

He spoke carefully, trying to please his father, who was already pouring himself another strong drink.

“You little snake. You’re treating me like I’m already useless.”

Grant Everett clicked his tongue and glared.

“That’s not true. I’m only concerned for your health. I’ll also investigate this myself, apart from the city patrol. So please rest.”

“Remember this. In this world, there’s no one you can truly trust.”

As always, Grant Everett gave one of his long-winded lectures.
He was a stubborn man who never listened to others and insisted on strict principles. He was exhausting to deal with.

“My lord, let me escort you to your chambers.”

Martin, the family butler, gently guided the Marquess out of the study.

Felix remained behind, clenching his fists and trembling with rage.
The old man had survived. How could someone so close to death still be breathing?

His blood boiled with frustration as his cold eyes stared into empty space.

A moment later, the door creaked open again. Martin had returned.

“What went wrong with the plan?”

Felix’s voice was sharp and accusing as he looked at Martin.

“The patrol said someone brought a carriage part to them near the Harbourne social club. They claimed it had fallen off a passing carriage.”

“A carriage part? Why was it there?”

Felix began to raise his voice, then caught himself and lowered it, grinding his teeth as he muttered through clenched jaws.

“I looked into it right away because it seemed strange,” Martin explained. “The part we removed was still exactly where we left it.”

“What are you saying?”

“The one the patrol received was a different part entirely.”

What in the world had happened?
How could a different piece be lying right there at that exact time?

It felt as if some unseen force had interfered.

Martin had questioned one of the patrol officers. The part had been brought in by a child who was simply passing by.
There was no way to trace who was behind it.

“Damn it!”

Felix reached for his glass, about to throw it, but held back. His hand trembled.

Grant Everett had never been a good father. He was greedy and self-centered.
Though he had named Felix as his heir, he fiercely guarded his own authority.

Felix had grown sick of always flattering and groveling. He had decided it was time to shift the power.
His father would return to the earth eventually, and Felix had simply tried to move that moment forward.

He had worked out the perfect plan with Martin and a few trusted aides.
The carriage was supposed to overturn. The Marquess was supposed to die. That was the script Felix had written.

Even if he didn’t die on the spot, they had bribed the coachman to finish the job quietly.
And yet the old man had come back alive.

It was infuriating.

“For now, the Marquess will be on high alert. You’ll need to lie low,” Martin warned, seeing the venom in Felix’s eyes.

“Of course. But there will be another chance soon. And next time, there can be no mistakes.”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Martin gave a sly smile.

Felix had no intention of giving up.
He believed he could lead the Everett family to even greater success once he became the head.

You said there’s no one in this world worth trusting? You were right.
Father, you were always right about that.

With a twisted smile on his face, Felix poured himself a glass of the strong liquor his father had been drinking and downed it in one gulp.
The burning sensation tore through his throat, but he pressed it down, swallowing the surge of rage that followed.

And he made a vow.
Next time, he would not fail.
No matter what.

Support Even the Devil Regrets it