If You Are Suited for the Villain's Secretary - Chapter 55

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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If the Villain’s Secretary Suits Me
Chapter 55
“I must confess, I too have harbored misunderstandings about you, Iliana Grecia. I apologize.”
Perhaps he felt compelled to append reasons to that apology.
That he had once suspected her of being a spy attempting to sell La Mar’s secrets. But that now he knew of her innocence.
Aden, lost in thought, shook his head.
The reaction of ordinary people upon learning that he had even conducted a background investigation to uncover her connections was entirely predictable.
Even if she were aware that La Mar was the Information Guild, discovering that its blade had once turned toward her was an altogether different matter.
‘Since the forged seal is also material connected to Randolph Maurel, she likely doesn’t realize it surfaced from investigating her own background.’
As this thought continued, Aden tilted his head slightly.
‘But if I were to find her missing father…’
Even after ceasing to suspect Iliana of being a spy, Aden continued investigating her.
Strictly speaking, it was an unproductive endeavor into which the resource known as Lenox was being poured indefinitely. In other words, an inefficient choice.
Yet Aden had not issued an order to cease the operation.
‘Not yet.’
First, because he had yet to uncover the identity of the figure who had been searching for her, mentioning her physical description.
And second…
“It’s my father’s debt.”
The expression on Iliana’s face when she spoke of Ruben Grecia occasionally surfaced in his mind as though embedded beneath her eyelids.
It seemed sorrowful at times, hateful at others. At moments it appeared utterly resigned, yet at others it transcended resignation into indifference.
In short, it was impossible to read precisely.
So he found himself constantly speculating—what emotions did Iliana harbor toward her father?
‘You, who can smile so brightly even now after an all-nighter… what manner of person was your father to draw such an expression from you?’
Aden was not one to leave unknowns unresolved.
Yet even now, acknowledging that he was curious about Iliana Grecia and desired to know her, he could not fathom why he himself was pursuing her father.
Aden’s lips twisted sharply.
It seemed to stem, undoubtedly, from the Blight Duchy—another parent who had abandoned their child.
‘If I were to find the gambling father who bequeathed you debt, would that be good news for you, or bad?’
As Aden attempted to assess this coldly, he realized he could not be certain.
His secretary far too often defied his expectations.
“Still, it’s such a shame that all the wine from Branch 11 had to be discarded. The bouquet was absolutely exquisite.”
Aden recalled how she had readily sipped rose-tinted champagne during the gathering with Branch 3.
She had mentioned that the intense nervousness from the interrogation meant she likely wouldn’t sleep tonight.
“Then I shall take my leave and—”
“There is a sample.”
Iliana, who had begun to rise with pen and notebook in hand, froze.
“If you’re curious about the taste, you’re welcome to try it.”
Iliana’s eyes sparkled.
“Really? I can have some now?”
Why was that?
I felt a subtle warmth as Iliana, who had been about to leave, said “now” and settled back into the seat across from me.
“If you’d like.”
“Wow, thank you! I was curious anyway.”
I didn’t particularly enjoy alcohol.
But I knew that sometimes it could offer a measure of comfort.
Tomorrow would bring another grueling stretch of work, and offering my secretary—who had been tense and flustered by the unexpected incident—a small solace to aid her sleep seemed hardly a terrible thing.
That’s what I thought.
But about ten minutes later.
“…You did taste it, didn’t you?”
“Zzz….”
I let out a hollow laugh as I watched my secretary, who hadn’t even managed to empty half a glass before falling asleep where she sat.
Amused despite my exasperation, I began tidying the cluttered table.
But even after I finished cleaning, Iliana remained asleep, her knees drawn tightly against her chest.
“You said you couldn’t sleep.”
“….”
“Hmm? Iliana Grecia.”
I lowered myself beside her chair and spoke softly with a smile.
Even knowing she wouldn’t answer, her breathing steady and even.
“It’s not good if collapsing from exhaustion becomes a habit.”
Recalling how she’d fallen ill during the business trip to Cassis, I furrowed my brow slightly and listened carefully.
Fortunately, unlike when she’d been sick, there was nothing amiss in her breathing—it seemed the alcohol had simply overwhelmed her in her fatigued state, causing her to succumb in an instant.
As I drew closer to observe her, I found myself gazing quietly at her face.
Honey-colored hair, hastily pinned up, slipped down across her pale complexion.
I reached up to brush it back, but became aware of my own movement just before my hand touched her face.
“….”
I froze as I was.
But then my fingers slowly extended again. My fingertips finally brushed against the silken strands.
As I gently, so very gently, brushed her hair back, a sigh of inexplicable origin escaped my lips and scattered.
“Ha.”
Only then did I realize I’d been holding my breath the entire time I was moving her hair.
That too was something I couldn’t explain. I splashed water on my face and tried to stand.
But the sight that caught my eye in that moment made me linger.
A place devoid of color and warmth. A meaningless space where I spent scarcely a few hours each day, and which no one but myself had ever entered—the Safe House.
It had to be this way, or it would crumble.
Yet the color and warmth of this intruder who had stepped into that landscape of only black and white were so starkly vivid that,
“Why did you do that?”
instead of destroying that meaningless place, she had quietly suffused it with color.
In the shape of clouds, in the sweet scent of pancakes, in that gentle laugh that seemed to say it could simply be this way.
In mere hours. …In merely a month.
“…Why did you say such things to me?”
It had been just a few minutes ago.
“Ah, and.”
His secretary, who always spoke with crisp precision, had drawn out her words slightly, and then fell silent for quite some time.
As I stared at her eyes, flushed with heat, my throat inexplicably grew dry.
Tilting his hip flask, Aden waited for her words with a deliberately composed expression.
“You know, earlier you told me to get some rest and that I didn’t need to contact Luther.”
“Yes. I’m listening.”
“The truth is, I felt a bit hurt. I wondered if you didn’t trust me. Because you didn’t tell me… Well, I suppose it can’t be helped if you don’t trust me….”
Iliana mumbled before taking another sip of wine, laughing with a slightly embarrassed expression.
“But actually, you were being considerate of me, weren’t you? Right? If I had known about the investigation that was coming… my interrogation would have been much harder. Isn’t that right?”
“….”
“I didn’t know. Thank you. But you can be honest with me. Just, well. …Don’t bear the burden of others’ misunderstandings. There’s no one who would be okay with that….”
After leaving those words, Iliana fell asleep.
Aden turned her final words over in his mind. Don’t bear misunderstandings. There’s no one who would be okay with that.
He was accustomed to being misunderstood, for better or worse. He had never bothered to correct it, and sometimes even allowed it to persist. Given his position, where so much had to be hidden and concealed, it was more efficient that way.
He had never harbored the luxurious desire to reveal his true self to anyone, nor had he ever entertained the embarrassing dream of wishing someone would understand him.
All of that—every moment of his past life, including such futile emotions—he had left behind with the fourteen-year-old ‘Calix Arden Blight’ buried at the bottom of the sea.
‘Then why.’
“Even though you know nothing.”
Why was she offering him words that the fourteen-year-old Calix would have accepted like a gift?
“…Why are you so kind to me.”
Again, no answer came.
Aden dimly sensed that another image of Iliana would be etched beneath his eyelids.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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