PHATFO 21

[Chapter 21]

“How thoughtful of you.”

Lady Hilton laughed brightly.

“I wouldn’t dare interfere with something so meaningful. Do as you please, my lady.”

“Thank you, madam.”

“Now that the name is settled, how about choosing a dress? Do you prefer this blue one, or this green one?”

“I’m fine with just a white dress—”

“For your information, white is a no-go. Battle attire should be bold. Weren’t you planning to crush the Countess on your way back?”

“…”

And so, I was stuck—tormented between Lady Hilton and her maids for quite a while.

Until Camilla came knocking on the door, worried I might be kept up all night.

In the end, Lady Hilton chose the blue dress.

“Bright colors suit you best. They bring out your features so well. From now on, ditch those pale things and wear only dresses like this, got it?”

I gave her a sheepish smile, and she laughed heartily, telling me to keep the dress and accessories as gifts.

When she admired me out loud, I didn’t feel too bad.

To be honest, I was a little happy. It was my first time being treated like a precious jewel—surrounded by maids dressing me from head to toe. It even made me feel like a real noble lady.

But that feeling quickly faded the moment the carriage stopped in front of the Rohilton estate.

The hairstyle, swept up to reveal the back of my neck, suddenly felt heavy.

“Do I look like someone I’m not supposed to be right now?”

The doubt came for a second—but I brushed it off.

“So what.”

Charlotte had already been driven out. The Countess must be intimidated. And the Count would be desperate to please me.

There was nothing for me to fear.

I straightened my shoulders and walked in, just like Lady Hilton would.

And then—

“Welcome back, Bella!”

The Count rushed out to greet me just after I stepped into the first-floor hall. It looked like he had told the staff to alert him the moment I returned.

“What are you all standing around for?! Hurry and bring food for our guest!”

At his shout, the maids scurried like they’d been hit by lightning.

Pretending he had nothing to do with them, the Count smiled warmly and took my hand. It was the same face he made when I was a child and he handed me the adoption agreement.

“You must be hungry. Come, let’s eat. I haven’t had dinner yet either.”

Since he had nothing to gain by harming me right now, I followed him without resistance.

Soon after we sat down, the table was filled with food. Judging by how fresh and warm everything was, he’d been pushing the chef to prepare this in time for my arrival.

“So, how was your outing?”

The Countess sat on his right, trying hard to swallow her anxiety.

She had changed clothes into a simpler indoor dress and was glaring at my accessories, comparing them with her own.

She must’ve been furious. She probably wanted to scream, “How dare you show up wearing something like that?”

But in front of the Count, she was a guilty mother who couldn’t keep her daughter in line.

Meanwhile, I was a winning lottery ticket who had somehow roped in a big shot like Lady Hilton.

“It was wonderful. The garden, the rooms, the food—everything. And…”

I clasped my hands over my chest and smiled.

“This dress and these jewels—she gave them all to me as gifts.”

When the Count saw my hands full of rings, his lips curled with forced cheer.

“She must be very fond of you to give such precious things already.”

“You wouldn’t believe how kind she’s been to me.”

I gave him exactly what he wanted to hear.

His greedy gaze passed over the rings and landed on the ornament in my hair.

He wanted to measure how close I was with Lady Hilton and whether I could bring him the money he desperately needed.

“Disgusting man.”

He was always like this. He divided everyone—including his wife and daughter—into those who had value and those who didn’t.

I hated Charlotte, but I pitied her too. She clung to a fake sense of honor because she had a father like him.

She was just trying to earn the recognition he never gave her—in the wrong way.

Of course, that doesn’t excuse everything she did.

Just like he scrutinized me, I scrutinized him.

Unfortunately, he was still useful to me.

“Oh, and about what happened earlier today—I explained everything. Told her it was all just a misunderstanding.”

“Did you now? That’s wonderful news.”

The Countess didn’t even look my way anymore. She stuffed her mouth with salad—chewing hard—and without swallowing, shoved in more.

She must’ve wanted to avoid upsetting her husband now that he seemed pleased.

How foolish. That peace would be broken soon enough.

“About the investment, by the way—”

“Do you have an answer already?”

The Count’s eyes lit up with hope.

“Well…”

“Why stop mid-sentence? Don’t tell me she turned it down?”

“It’s not that. She really wanted to say yes, but her advisers are against it. They say it’s not a morally sound investment. When I asked for more details… she mentioned that you’ve been delaying compensation for a mining accident.”

“Compensation? What compensation? Rohilton doesn’t own any mines. Must be a mix-up with another house.”

“That’s what I thought too, but she said… aren’t you investing in Mihloon? She said if the issue isn’t resolved—”

“What nonsense are you spouting now?”

I’d dragged out the explanation on purpose, testing his patience—and it worked.

The Count slammed the table and raised his voice.

“Mihloon?! Why the hell would I invest in Mihloon?! There’s not even a speck of gold there!”

As he ranted and pounded the table with his fist, he suddenly turned to the Countess.

“You didn’t…”

The Countess froze, unable to say a word. Her hand slipped, and her cup crashed to the floor.

That seemed to be the trigger. The Count shot to his feet.

“Darling—”

“So it’s true?! You were investing behind my back?!”

The Countess had been secretly investing in Mihloon for years.

She wanted her husband’s approval, but he’d refused, calling the mine worthless.

Still, she couldn’t ignore her birth family’s struggles and had been secretly funneling funds.

And now, I had exposed it.

If this had come out before Charlotte’s secrets were revealed, it might’ve been salvageable.

But now, the Count was desperate for money.

“No! No, dear—”

She shook her head frantically, but no one believed her anymore.

“Bring me the ledgers! Right now!”

His furious roar echoed through the dining hall.

The Countess technically managed the household finances, but the master of the house was still the Count.

And when the head of the family demands to see the money trail with such fury, no steward dares say no.

The Count flipped through the ledgers right in front of the Countess.

He’d never cared much for the family budget—unless there was an absurd amount missing or unexpected debt, he let it be. He always thought such minor matters weren’t worth his time.

Because of that, the Countess hadn’t even bothered to forge the records properly, and the Count easily found the inconsistencies.

And so—he discovered that for ten whole years, money had been funneled into Mihloon.

“I told you over and over again! Charity and investment are not the same thing!”

“…”

“Damn it! You’ve been throwing away money for nothing! Now we can’t even claim we’re not involved in the Mihloon incident. What are we supposed to do now?!”