Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 50

Otis quickly realized that Jack was one of Calliope’s people and waved off the guards. Then he turned to Calliope with an even more curious look in his eyes. She just shrugged, completely unfazed.

“He’s very obedient, isn’t he? Well then, I really must be going now.”

With that, Calliope gracefully boarded her family’s carriage with Jack following behind. Otis would handle breaking Erben’s spirit later—she had other plans.

“Jack, hand me what I asked for earlier.”

“Ah, yes. Here it is.”

Jack pulled out the bundle of papers he had stolen from Erben’s pocket—his gambling slips. Calliope sifted through them and carelessly tossed the ones purchased with cash onto the floor of the carriage.

“Wow… he borrowed quite a bit.”

The black-inked slips represented the money Erben exchanged legally at the den. The red-inked ones showed what he borrowed on credit. And the red slips were far more numerous. Clicking her tongue with a sneer, Calliope gathered the rest and handed them back to Jack.

“What do you plan to do with these?”

“They might come in handy for some fun.”

“What kind of fun, exactly?”

Still smiling like an angel, Calliope answered with the voice of a devil.

“I just think… he should understand what it feels like to live with nothing—like Isaac did.”

Calliope didn’t return to the estate. Instead, she headed straight to the city guard’s prison.

The cells holding common criminals weren’t in complete disrepair, but they were far from pleasant. Damp moss slicked the floors, and the air smelled rank. Jack and Calliope followed a guard through the narrow halls until they reached the eighth cell.

“I don’t understand why a noble lady would want to meet with the owner of an illegal gambling den,” the guard muttered.

“It’s a little hobby of mine.”

Though he didn’t scowl outright, the man looked away and pinched his brow as if he knew exactly what sort of “hobby” it was. Calliope could guess what he was thinking. After all, for nobles with twisted appetites, nothing was easier to exploit than a desperate commoner.

Still, I’m not that rotten, she thought.

They stopped in front of a cell dimly lit by a flickering torch. The guard rapped his baton against the bars and pointed at one of the newly arrested—an anxious-looking middle-aged woman curled up in the corner.

“You. Out.”

“M-me?”

“I’d like to have a word.”

Though it wasn’t a death sentence, the woman trembled as if it were. She pressed herself deeper into the shadows—until her eyes caught sight of Calliope. A well-dressed noble lady in this place? It didn’t fit. Her brows furrowed with confusion and growing fear.

“Why… me?”

“It’s nothing bad. I promise.”

Calliope flashed her warmest, most harmless smile. The woman’s name was Matilda, the owner of the gambling den—and her fear only grew.

They were escorted to a small meeting room, where Matilda’s hands were bound tightly. After Calliope handed the guard a gold coin, he politely stepped out.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” he said.

“I won’t need that long.”

The room was barely different from a cell. A dim lamp, a wobbly wooden table, two creaky chairs. The two women sat down, neither speaking at first. Calliope let the silence hang long enough for Matilda to grow anxious. Then, finally, she spoke.

“I can get you out of here.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Not for free, of course.”

Calliope reached into her bag and placed a bundle of paper on the table—the same bundle Jack had retrieved earlier. Matilda instantly recognized them as the IOUs and debt slips issued from her own gambling house.

“Illegal gambling, underground loans, and unlicensed narcotic cigars. You must’ve made a decent fortune. But if you’re still in here, I’m guessing you don’t have anyone trustworthy enough to post bail?”

It wasn’t hard to get out of jail—assuming your crime wasn’t murder. As long as someone paid your bail, most offenses allowed release. The problem? Prisoners couldn’t move freely. They needed someone outside to bring the money.

“Your crew—the ones who didn’t get caught—probably took off with whatever’s left of your stash. Figures.”

Truthfully, Matilda’s little operation wasn’t even that big. Small-time, at best. That’s probably why Erben thought it was safe—small enough to stay under the radar.

As Calliope spoke, Matilda stayed silent, eyes darting around. But finally, she whispered,

“What… what do you want from me?”

Calliope gently tapped the stack of IOUs with her finger.

“Nothing much. You’re going to be released, right? So just do what you normally do—track down everyone who borrowed money from you and collect.”

“Right… yes.”

“Except this one.”

Calliope pulled out one slip and placed it apart from the others.

“Transfer the debt listed under Erben Esteban to me.”

“…What?”

“You heard me. Give me that IOU, and I’ll get you out of here.”

“Let me… think a little…”

Matilda clearly wasn’t the impulsive type. She remained cautious of Calliope, still trying to gauge her intentions. Calliope, smiling like she knew exactly what was running through her mind, laced her fingers atop the table and leaned in slightly.

“My offer is simple. That’s all I want. The longer you wait, the more your assets will dwindle.”

Calliope tilted her head forward, just slightly, to apply subtle pressure. A few seconds passed.

“If… if I really just hand that over, that’s it?”

“Of course.”

The deal didn’t take long to close. Calliope had Matilda sign the prepared contract Jack had arranged and walked out of that foul-smelling prison with calm satisfaction. As she climbed into the carriage, Jack offered her a hand, his face looking less than thrilled.

“Well, I suppose it’s good that you got what you wanted… but still, feels unsettling. That woman will just start another gambling den as soon as she’s out.”

“And what was she arrested for this time?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, confused by the question.

“Illegal gambling operation, obviously.”

“Then we’ll just wait for the right moment… and arrest her again for illegal loans.”

“…Ah.”

Three days later, the air in the Esteban estate’s study was thick and suffocating, tense enough to choke. The oppressive pressure was coming from none other than the man standing behind the desk: Velta Esteban, the Count and head of the family.

News of Erben’s arrest in an illegal gambling den had, of course, reached his father’s ears. He had expected to be reprimanded—but what he didn’t expect was this: Isaac, his younger brother, was summoned too, standing quietly beside him without knowing why.

“You’ve lost your mind, haven’t you.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve already taken care of things to keep the matter from leaking out…”

“You think an apology is enough to fix this?”

Even if Velta spent most of his time at the palace and rarely bothered with the estate, he was still the head of House Esteban.

“You can’t even manage your own affairs and you’re sneaking around in illegal gambling dens?”

“…I’m sorry.”

“And you stole from the family’s budget to fund it?”

Erben clenched his jaw and lowered his head. He accepted that his father had every right to scold him. But having his little brother—whom he used to mock—standing right next to him during it all bruised his pride.

Velta looked over both of his sons, his expression unreadable. Maybe he felt Erben had shown enough remorse—or maybe he knew that what was done couldn’t be undone. Either way, his voice was firm as he turned to Isaac.

“This month, I’ll attend the Royal Guard selection with Isaac.”

Erben’s head snapped up.

“F-Father, but—!”

“Silence!”

Traditionally, the heir of a noble family would accompany the head on official duties. While it wasn’t unheard of for a second or third son to go instead, that was usually only when the heir was unavailable.

But now, the eldest would be grounded at home, while the younger son—Isaac—was to appear in public? Though Isaac wasn’t yet of age, this was enough to spark rumors that the family hierarchy had shifted. And Velta surely knew that.

“Isaac isn’t mature enough to attend formal functions.”

“I believe he can manage standing quietly beside me.”

Erben scoffed internally. His father knew so little about his own children. He was the very one who first neglected Isaac—never even arranged a proper tutor for him. It was clear he had no real understanding of what Isaac could or couldn’t do.

Or worse—he did know and simply didn’t care.

“You’re mistaken,” Erben said, his voice low.

The atmosphere between Velta and Erben grew taut with tension, so thick it nearly froze the room. Neither Isaac nor the attending servants dared move or speak. Velta might be indifferent to family affairs, but he was still the famed Royal Guard Commander—and the head of House Esteban. Meanwhile, Erben had carried the family’s weight alone for years. Neither was someone to side with carelessly.

Then—knock knock—a timid knock broke the silence.

“Um… pardon me…”

A young maid peeked nervously through the door.

“Lady Calliope Anastas has arrived.”

The heavy mood of the room shifted ever so slightly. Isaac, who had stood still as stone, suddenly looked visibly relaxed.

Neither Erben nor Velta had been told she was coming, so naturally, all eyes turned to Isaac. Caught in the moment, he hesitated—but then nodded. Even though he hadn’t received any letter from Calliope, claiming otherwise might cause her to face Velta’s displeasure. That wasn’t something he wanted.

Velta, not doubting his younger son, let out a sigh and waved his hand.

“Also, the lady requested to meet not just with the young master—but with the head of house and firstborn as well.”

The three men—all of the same blood—raised a single eyebrow in perfect unison. Regardless of whether they’d been expecting her, a noble lady engaged to the house had come calling. It wasn’t as though they could refuse.

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