Side Story 9: In Front of the Fountain (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Side Story 9: In Front of the Fountain (2)
"Look here, Bella. You haven't been out of prison long, so you likely haven't grasped the current atmosphere yet, but you should be grateful I’m even speaking to you. With the Kailas Family watching, who else would dare meet with you?"
At the mention of the 'Kailas Family'—a name she hadn't heard in far too long—even the forced, practiced smile vanished from Bella’s lips.
"Harriet... did that bitch tell them to shun me?"
"The Duchess herself doesn't seem to care enough to bother with you, but everyone knows you're her sworn enemy. You’d best watch your step."
"W-what did you say?"
"Anyway, if you don't like my offer, then forget it. I have nothing to lose."
A blatant sneer colored his tone. The moment she realized he was looking down on her, Bella’s thin thread of patience snapped.
"You filthy pig! How dare you speak to me like that? You’re just a useless old lecher; you should be grateful I even agreed to see you!"
Unable to contain her boiling rage, she swung her small handbag, slamming it against the man's forearm and face.
"Apologize! Apologize to me this instant!"
"Aargh! You—you crazy bitch!"
Viscount Beverly, initially caught off guard and reeling from the blows, quickly regained his footing. He lunged forward, grabbing Bella’s wrist and delivering a brutal slap across her cheek.
With a sharp crack, Bella’s head snapped to the side. He didn't stop there, fist bunching in her disheveled hair as he struck her repeatedly.
"You whore! Where do you get off acting like this? Damn it, come with me! I’ll teach you a proper lesson!"
"Let go of me!"
Bella was dragged along by the Viscount, her face a bruised mess. Gritting her teeth, she dug her nails into the back of the hand gripping her hair and raked them down with feral intensity. She dug deep enough to tear through flesh.
"Aargh!"
"Die, you pig!"
Bella scooped up a handful of dirt from the ground, flung it into his eyes, and bolted.
The people nearby stared at the scene with startled expressions, but she was in no state to care about her reputation.
Damn it! Harriet, that cursed bitch! She’s thwarting me at every turn!
Fleeing with blood streaming from her nose, she hailed a passing hackney carriage and ordered the driver straight toward the city center.
Only then, finally catching her breath, did Bella pull a handkerchief from her bag. She wiped her face and tried to tidy her hair while frantically cycling through the names of other men she knew.
Unfortunately, none were as wealthy as Viscount Beverly.
Except for one. He was young, rich, well-connected, and came from a prestigious family. Whether he would welcome her, however, was another matter entirely.
Bella bit her lip until it nearly bled, eventually directing the carriage toward the heart of the capital’s entertainment district—a place where Audience Rooms, bars, and secret clubs congregated in the shadows.
"Tez!"
Late at night, inside a secret club thick with heavy cigarette smoke, the stench of alcohol, and the cloying scent of courtesans' powder, Tez Roark sat entrenched at the center of the room like the master of a mire.
Five years had passed, but he hadn't changed much. He still exuded a sharp, predatory sexual charm.
Tez’s gaze flickered toward Bella, though not because he recognized the voice calling his name.
"Hey! Who’s managing the door? Don't just let any random woman in!"
He looked at Bella—with her swollen, battered cheek and haggard appearance—as if she were a stray to be kicked out.
Her pride was wounded, but she knew this was no time for indignation.
"Tez! It's me, Bella."
"Who? Bella? You don't mean... Bella Listerwell?"
He scanned her with a look of genuine surprise before letting out a hollow, mocking laugh.
"You're out already? I thought you still had a long stretch left."
"I was released early for good behavior. But... I have nowhere to go."
Bella squeezed her way between Tez and the courtesan clinging to his side. She threw a fierce glare at the woman, who was grabbing her arm and shouting protests, before pleading with Tez in a desperate voice.
"Help me, Tez. I need a place to stay. I need money."
"What? Hahahaha!"
He laughed for a long time, as if he’d just heard the most hilarious joke in the world. He wiped away imaginary tears and shook his head.
"Wow... Bella, you haven't changed a bit. Your audacity is truly something else. How did you even find the nerve to show your face to me again?"
"I've thought of nothing but you. I mean it."
"I thought of you occasionally, too. After all, whose fault was it that I was pushed out of my family's main business?"
"I'm truly sorry. But I never intended for that to happen, did I?"
The femme fatale who once had him wrapped around her finger was gone.
She clasped her hands together, practically begging as she clung to him. She hoped he would take her as his mistress and provide for her until a more suitable mark appeared.
But Tez Roark was no longer interested in Bella. He was neither soft enough to fall for her fading charms, nor generous enough to let prey that had walked right into his lap go to waste.
"Alright, it's not like I can't help you. Tell me, do you want to earn a lot of money, or do you want to meet a rich man?"
"Just introducing me to a man would be enough... but if both are possible, I won't refuse."
Bella replied with a weak, flirtatious smile.
Looking down at her—still as greedy as the day he met her—Tez gave a cynical smirk.
"I figured as much. Actually, there is a position that satisfies both. You could become incredibly rich, if you’re the one doing it."
"Really? What kind of work is it?"
"I've recently invested in a new business. Take charge of one of the branches and grow it."
At the mention of being given her own business to manage, Bella’s eyes sparkled. She had no idea she was stepping onto a path that would plunge her into a bottomless swamp.
*
Cedric received the report from a <Cloud> informant and examined it slowly as he walked toward the balcony.
Leaning against the railing, he looked down at the fountain where cool streams of water gushed into the air. Even under the scorching sun, his lively daughter and wife were splashing in the water, enjoying the height of summer.
He smiled, recalling the time Harriet had once jumped into that very fountain to retrieve her father's heirloom brooch.
"...Bella Listerwell has been identified as the manager of the Audience Room <Beelzebub>, which recently opened. She services calls from high-ranking officials, and the fee for a single meeting ranges from 10,000 to 30,000 Dirham, depending on the nature of the request. Tez Roark has been confirmed as the actual owner of <Beelzebub>. He recovers seventy percent of Bella Listerwell's net profit."
The contents of the document faded from his mind almost instantly, leaving no lasting impression.
Just as he had predicted, Bella had walked directly into her own misfortune.
He felt no pity for her, nor any shred of regret.
Being abandoned after trying to use Julian, choosing Tez Roark as a fallback, and clinging to him only to become a mere courtesan—every step had been her own choice.
Though <Beelzebub>’s profits are substantial, if she’s only receiving thirty percent after deductions, there won't be much left. If she’s still indulging in her old luxuries, she’s likely already drowning in debt.
To put it coldly, this was probably the best life she could hope for in her remaining years.
When she gets older and loses her utility, what will become of her? What path will she choose then?
He knew with certainty she would not choose an honest path. She had never lived that way. She would spend her final days trying to cling to a man or harm someone else to get ahead.
That was why he couldn't let his guard down entirely.
Even as she ruins her own life, she is the kind of person who will blame Harriet until the very end.
Blaming others for a lifetime while slowly corroding from within—she was a woman who meticulously embraced every misfortune that came her way.
Cedric snorted softly, then suddenly realized how truly remarkable his wife was.
It wasn't just because she had lost her parents young, been used by her uncle’s family, and then cast aside. It was that she hadn't succumbed to a world where no one believed in her. She had fiercely carved out her own life. That was a strength of character not easily found.
Even if she hadn't met him, even if the business she started back then had failed, she would have risen again. Because Harriet was the kind of person who chose to move forward.
Someone who chooses misfortune can never defeat someone who chooses happiness.
He casually folded the paper and handed it to Gerard, his aide, who stood behind him.
"Discard it."
Gerard, knowing the paper contained information regarding Bella, raised an eyebrow.
"Is this a document you won't need to reference again, Your Grace?"
"Yes. It's just trash."
It was a string of words detailing the trashy choices of a trashy human—a text that seemed to reek just by looking at it.
Gerard, sensing a loose thread, asked one more thing.
"Are you just going to leave that Roark scoundrel be?"
Cedric let out a small, cold laugh.
"Of course not."
"Then..."
"A man needs to fall when he’s flown his highest to truly break. I’m looking at about a year from now."
"Understood. I'll keep an eye on him."
Satisfied with the answer, Gerard withdrew.
The brilliant sunlight spilling onto the balcony cast a long shadow behind Cedric. Just then, as if sensing his gaze, Rainier looked up and waved vigorously.
"Papa!"
"Careful, kiddo, your arm’s going to fall off," he called back, his expression softening into a gentle smile.
It was far too beautiful a summer day to dwell on the downfall of those who had once tormented his wife.
-End of Side Stories-