I Stole The Duke - Chapter 18
“Please don’t cry.”
As Eliana’s eyes brimmed with tears, Michalis felt as though he were plunging from the depths into an abyss. His hands, uncertain of what to do, hesitated in the air—hovering uselessly before slowly falling back.
“Eliana…”
Unable to watch her tears any longer, Michalis stepped closer.
“This is all my fault.”
He had no idea how to comfort a crying woman. Michalis even questioned whether he had the right to wipe away her tears. That hesitation kept his hands from reaching out to her.
“Hic… What are you apologizing for?”
Eliana’s chest tightened with frustration. She knew Michalis would never understand why she was crying.
This man, so sincere yet hopelessly awkward—what was she supposed to do with him?
‘What happens if I just log out of this world…?’
Her thoughts were in disarray, her emotions adrift and lost.
“It’s all because of my arrogance.”
Michalis believed it was his fault. That his misguided pride had led to the humiliating article, and that he had caused Eliana’s pain.
“Hic… No, that’s not it…”
Watching Michalis apologize over and over again only made Eliana feel more helpless and heartbroken.
“I swear I will never lay a hand on you. I would never use violence.”
Michalis, seeing her tears refusing to stop, finally forced himself to speak, though it was clearly difficult for him.
“If that’s what worries you, please, don’t be afraid.”
“That’s not it either!”
Unable to hold back, Eliana burst out, her voice sharp as she threw herself into his arms. She was furious—furious that she couldn’t tell him the truth.
“Eliana…”
Michalis froze like a statue, stunned by the soft pressure around his waist and the warmth against his chest.
“Just… don’t say anything.”
“……”
His arms, which had been awkwardly hovering, finally encircled her gently. As he held her, the tears that had seemed endless finally began to ease.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
With her cheek pressed against his chest, Eliana listened to the sound of his heartbeat, slowly calming her thoughts.
And in that moment, she made a decision.
‘He’s alive.’
Whether this was the world of a novel, a dream, or some virtual reality, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t let someone this alive, this real, be dragged into misery.
Especially when she knew exactly how that misery would come to be.
‘If the heroine tries to approach him… I’ll handle it before I log out.’
Eliana’s heart hardened with resolve.
“I’ll protect you.”
She whispered the words so softly they were nearly lost in the silence.
‘I took him from the heroine… so I have to take responsibility.’
“That’s supposed to be my line.”
Hearing her small voice, Michalis held her tighter. She was so small, easily fitting in his arms. His shirt was soaked with her tears—but even that didn’t bother him.
“I’ll be the one to protect you.”
To protect this fragile and delicate bride-to-be, Michalis vowed to himself.
‘I’ll find the one who wrote that trash article—and erase him.’
That night.
At Flencia Beach, the most luxurious resort in the southern region, white sands stretched along the shore, lined with opulent vacation homes owned by wealthy central nobles. One particularly lavish estate was hosting a private celebration.
“Keh keh keh! I’ve never felt such satisfaction!”
Goldman, slouched drunkenly on a sofa with a hazy-eyed woman clinging to him, guzzled his drink with a vile grin.
“I wonder how that high-and-mighty face of his looks now. Keh keh keh! I wish I could’ve seen it!”
Recalling the face of Michalis Ascher, who always carried himself with such arrogance, Goldman couldn’t stop laughing, his cheeks flushed red with drink, giddy with glee.
“Sales tripled in just one day! Not double—triple!”
On the opposite sofa, another man shouted with excitement, a half-conscious woman leaning against him as well.
“It’s all thanks to you!”
Krinekt the Scandal-Monger, who had dreams of becoming the next owner of the Wespera Times, was riding high on his success.
This was the first time he had ever received recognition for his work—a hit article, tangible results. His family had always treated him as the incompetent heir, but that would change now.
“Bwahahaha! That photo was a stroke of genius!”
Despite his staff’s concerns, he had pushed the article through, and it had become a massive hit.
Yes, the scandalous content was juicy, but the real draw was the new Duke of Ascher’s face—a man who had never appeared in public before. Readers were desperate to see him, and the newspaper sold like wildfire.
And because the Wespera Times was a weekly publication, sales would skyrocket even more by morning.
What irked Krinekt slightly was the surge of noblewomen—ladies who had never bought a newspaper before—now snapping them up just to admire the Duke’s handsome face.
“To our victory—cheers!”
“Keh keh keh, yes, yes!”
Drunk on their success, the two men clinked their glasses.
CRASH!
Suddenly, the doors burst open, splintering under the force of the blow.
“Gah!”
“Wha—?!”
The door, torn from its hinges and flung nearly three meters, clattered to the ground amid dust, causing the two men’s liquor to spill in an instant.
“Goldman Chase… Krinekt the Scandal-Monger.”
The man who had kicked in the door strode inside, slowly reciting their names with ice in his voice.
“Y-You’re…”
Seeing the intruder walk in with casual ease, as though out for a stroll, Goldman’s eyes went wide.
His white trousers and blue jacket stood out—the distinctive uniform of the Knight Order. Goldman could never forget a man of such imposing stature. The other knights, who poured in behind him wearing the same uniform, barely registered in his vision.
“Good to see you again.”
Stopping before them, Puelini smiled with cold malice, like the reaper himself.
“What is the meaning of this! How dare you trespass into the Chase family’s villa!”
A strange chill ran down Goldman’s spine, and he shuddered involuntarily, then snapped.
“Ducal Law, Article 28 of the Ascher Territory’s Autonomy Charter.”
Puelini, pausing for a moment, recited the law in a clipped, hard voice.
“The First Knight Order holds supreme authority and may command the Second and Third Orders, as well as law enforcement. It may also conduct independent investigations as needed.”
That these fools had dared publish such an outrageous article and still lingered in the South—Puelini felt almost a strange respect for their stupidity.
“Search the premises.”
“Yes, Commander!”
At Puelini’s low command, the knights swiftly fanned out, moving with practiced efficiency.
“They’re intoxicated… but not on alcohol.”
One knight, examining the listless women draped over Goldman and Krinekt, checked their pupils and called out.
“Commander! We found unconscious individuals upstairs!”
“Bring them all down.”
As the voices echoed from above, Goldman and Krinekt paled, frozen on the sofa like men tied down.
“Commander! Multiple substances suspected to be narcotics have been located!”
“Confiscate everything.”
“Stop this at once! Do you plan to make an enemy of the Chase family, one of the central noble houses?!”
Goldman tried to protest, though his voice wavered. He still didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation.
He had never once been punished for his wrongdoings. As the heir to the Empire’s largest bank, most scandals were quietly erased before anyone could intervene. Punishment had never been part of his world.
“……”
Puelini did not respond. His lips remained firmly shut, his stance immovable as a mountain.
“All accounted for, Commander.”
The large villa, more a mansion than a vacation home, had been thoroughly searched. An additional three individuals had been discovered.
Including the women on the sofas, there were five in total.
“Goldman Chase. Krinekt the Scandal-Monger.”
The women were gently laid on the carpet of the first-floor lobby, alongside the suspicious substances. The knights’ faces, including Puelini’s, hardened.
One woman’s hands had been bound behind her back, making the scene even more disturbing.
“You filth… What the hell did you do?”
“W-What do you mean? We simply hosted a party with willing ladies… Don’t look at us like we’re kidnappers!”
Goldman’s eyes darted wildly, filled with fear, as he tried to explain.
“Ahem, I-I was merely a guest at the party.”
Sobered instantly, Krinekt stammered out a weak excuse, his eyes darting around, seeking an escape from Puelini’s massive frame.
“Ah…”
Suddenly, one of the women, who had been lying still, let out a weak moan and slowly raised herself.
“You’re awake. Here, drink this.”
A nearby knight quickly offered her water.
“……”
All eyes turned toward her in silence.
Gulp. Gulp.
Even the sound of her swallowing seemed to echo in the still air.
“Ah… Where am I?”
Her eyes, still hazy, scanned the room. She looked from Goldman and Krinekt to the knights surrounding them.
“You are at the Chase family’s villa.”
Puelini’s voice rang out calm and steady.
As her awareness returned, her face turned ashen.
“Sir Knight… There’s a recording. A video file… Please, I beg you… delete it… please…”
Her voice was weak and trembling, but the words were clear.
“You wretched animals!”
Before her sentence even ended, Puelini struck Goldman with thunderous force.
SMACK!
It was not the Knight Commander, but a father with a daughter who delivered that blow.
Goldman’s body flew across the room, slamming into the wall before collapsing. His mouth gaped open, foaming blood as several teeth spilled out.
Beeeeep.
The ringing in his ears, as loud as a lightning strike, was the last thing Goldman remembered.
Ugh… Cold.
Goldman came to only because of the cold, biting deep into his skin.
Creak. Creak. Creeeeak.
As he fully regained consciousness, pain in his ankles pierced through the haze, joined by the unpleasant sound ringing in his ears.
‘Why is it cold? This is the warm southern coast. Why do my ankles hurt?’
Whoosh.
A sharp breeze brushed his bare skin, jolting Goldman awake with sudden terror.
“AHHH! AAAAAAHHH!”
The moment his eyes opened, he screamed.
“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!”
Moments ago, he had been at his family’s villa. Now, he was completely naked, dangling upside down by his ankles.
“W-What’s happening! Please, help me!”
Beneath him, pitch-black ocean water churned in the night. The salty, metallic stench of seawater rushed up into his nose, overwhelming his senses.
Splash. Splash. Creak. Creak.
Waves struck the side of the ship, splashing onto his face with freezing seawater.
“AAAAAAHHH!”
Hearing another scream, he turned his head.
Not far from him, hanging in the same position, was his dear companion, Krinekt.
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