To the One Who's Only Cold to Me - Chapter 124

“Help me.”

“Please… please, just spare me.”

“You’re the only ones I can ask. Okay?”

Graham and Marissa looked at Daphne, who was kneeling, and couldn’t say a word. Now that they knew how bad Cliff’s condition was, they could easily guess what kind of situation Daphne was in.

“Cliff is completely obsessed with that liquor.”

“For now, he still drinks outside and pretends to be fine in front of the children, but I don’t know how long that will last. You know how sharp Ian is. Telling him that his father is just stressed because of business won’t work for much longer.”

“You already knew about the marquis’s condition, didn’t you? Then why didn’t you say anything before?”

Marissa asked in a cold voice as Daphne begged with her hands clasped. Daphne flinched, then weakly nodded.

“I only found out recently. And I couldn’t tell anyone. I was afraid something terrible might happen.”

It wasn’t entirely unreasonable. The addictive liquor Cliff had gotten into was one of the most severely punished issues in the Caesar Empire along with slavery and suicide.

“We need to act quickly There are no exceptions, even for nobles. Two of the people involved in the last scandal were executed The others lost their titles or were exiled.”

Graham, who had been standing quietly, spoke with a serious expression. In truth, ever since he found out that Cliff was using something forbidden, he had been so anxious he couldn’t sleep. Cliff still acted normal in meetings, but Graham feared that broken version of him could appear at any moment.

“There’s no choice, then. First, we need to hold the marquis accountable.”

“Marissa. No! If we do it wrong, Cliff could be executed.”

“I’m talking about gambling, Graham.”

“Gambling?”

“If a high-ranking noble loses control over drinking and gambling, the royal court will see him as unfit and kick him out. Once he’s expelled, we can use that as an excuse to send him to his estate for treatment. Eventually… at least we won’t be living in fear like this.”

“R-Really? Is that possible?”

Daphne, who had been listening desperately, looked hopeful at Marissa’s plan. Marissa, a bit uncomfortable with that look, gave a small nod.

“The situation is serious, so we have to act fast and be careful.”

“Aren’t you the marquis’s wife’s maid? What are you doing here?”

The voice of the butler from Count Parden’s house startled the woman who had been eavesdropping at the door. The butler narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he looked at her.

“Don’t tell me you were listening in?”

“N-No, sir.”

The woman shook her head in denial, but when the butler continued to look suspicious, she stammered nervously.

“I was just waiting to see when my lady would come out”

“It’s true. If she’s late, I have to tell the coachman so he can inform the marquis’s house…”

“Even so! Don’t you know that kind of behavior deserves punishment?”

“I’m sorry!”

The maid immediately knelt at the butler’s scolding. The butler clicked his tongue as he debated what to do with her.

‘She’s not under my care and if I punish the marquis’s wife’s maid, it could cause problems.’

In the end, he decided to let it go. She was young, clearly frightened, and didn’t seem to have bad intentions.

“Go downstairs and wait. I’ll tell you when the marquis’s wife comes out.”

“Y-Yes. Thank you, sir.”

At his stern voice, the maid bowed deeply and ran off. The butler frowned at her ungraceful behavior, but he soon forgot about it. However, the incident he forgot would soon cause great trouble…

That night, the maid who returned to the marquis’s house with Daphne repeated every word she had heard—as if she had done it many times before—to someone in the dark.

“Today, the lady said…”

Another demand letter had arrived. Cliff slumped into his chair, overwhelmed by the dozens of papers spilling from his desk drawers.

‘Why! Why is everything only getting worse?!’

Before becoming addicted to the forbidden liquor, Cliff had never failed in business. He was intelligent and cautious, which helped him avoid major losses. But that substance he smoked and drank dulled his sharp mind and everything else.

After falling out with Graham, Cliff became close with Duke Levantus, who used him politically and financially. But Cliff was too far gone to even notice.

“Where is it? Where is it?!”

With stress peaking, only one thought filled his head. Cliff rummaged through the desk, then even patted down his own body like a madman.

“Father?”

Just as he found something wrapped in paper deep in his inner pocket, the door creaked open. A boy, with the same hair as Cliff, peeked in. Cliff froze the moment he saw his son. Though he wanted to use what was in the paper immediately, he forced himself to turn around.

“Ian.”

“Father, is something wrong?”

Ian was often cold and distant, which sometimes hurt Cliff. But today, the boy openly showed concern. Cliff bit his lip and forced a calm expression.

“It’s nothing. I’m working. Go back.”

“But…”

“This isn’t something you should worry about, Ian. Go on now.”

Cliff’s harsh tone made Ian hesitate. But then, with a resolute expression, he stepped inside.

“If there’s anything I can do to help—”

“Get out!”

It was a shout Ian had never heard before. Though his father could be strict, he was usually kind and never raised his voice. But now, his bloodshot eyes were filled with rage, as if Ian had committed a terrible crime.

Startled, Ian stepped back out. Cliff stormed toward the door and slammed it shut.

Click.

The sound of the lock echoed. Ian stood blankly, then noticed a piece of paper that had fallen from the room. He bent down and picked it up. His eyes soon caught the word “DEMAND” and a massive amount of money.

Rain fell without wind. Cliff stared at the steady rain with dull eyes. At his feet lay a letter from Duke Levantus, claiming that Graham and Daphne were conspiring to report him. Anyone in their right mind would question it but Cliff, who was convinced they were having an affair, didn’t doubt it for a second.

The alcohol’s effects had worn off slightly. But that made it more dangerous. When pleasure faded and reason started returning, Cliff’s emotions reached their peak.

‘It’s over now.’

Cliff thought of all the demand letters and remembered how he had yelled at his son earlier. He had sworn to be a better parent than his own but in the end, he was worse.

‘If this continues, I’ll hurt Ian again. But I can’t give this up either…’

The empty bottle slipped from his hand. Cliff knew he had to stop. But his mind was filled with only one thought: I can’t.

“Do you know who I am?! Let me go!”

“Marquis, we’ll let you go this time as a favor. But next time if you don’t bring money, the noose won’t be for your wrist—it’ll be for your neck. Understand?”

Even after being threatened by such lowlifes, Cliff still found the money to buy more. The marks on his wrists were still there…

Feeling tormented, Cliff habitually brought the empty bottle to his lips. When there was no liquor, he brought it to his nose instead. For a brief second, with a deep inhale, it felt like all the pain disappeared. But a few moments later, only deeper shame remained.

Cliff threw the bottle away and laughed bitterly, then soon bent over and sobbed.

He felt like a failure. A monster. But even that self-blame didn’t last long. His eyes drifted to the letter from Duke Levantus again, and rage burned in them.

‘Tricked by a filthy liar, betrayed by a friend I trusted…’

He straightened his back. His face was filled with pure hatred and resentment. He started blaming Graham and Daphne for everything his ruined business, his downfall. Blaming others was easier than blaming himself.

‘I won’t go down alone.’

Cliff read the letter once more, then crumpled it and threw it into the fireplace. In the dark room, the letter quickly turned to ash.

“You think I’ll let this go?”

With a face darker and stranger than the room itself, Cliff turned and stared at the wall to his right. Behind that wall was the bedroom he hadn’t entered in over a week—the room where the person he now hated most was sleeping.

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