My Ex-Husband Came Back Crazy - Chapter 69

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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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Episode 69
Chapter 7. The Source (9)
The hallway of the villa held the light of dusk stretched long within it.
The sunset that had passed through the windows pooled along the floor. The only sound was the distant murmur of flowing river water.
Celia opened the doors one by one.
Guest bedroom. Small parlor. Study.
“Nothing’s really changed.”
Before this mansion had gone to auction, Celia had already passed through it many times. She’d been on reasonably good terms with the elderly couple who’d owned it before.
“This could have been mine.”
Irritated, Celia walked down the well-maintained but aged hallway.
How long had she been walking like this?
Her footsteps came to a stop in one place.
“This is the room with the good river view.”
She raised her hand and opened a door.
The moment the door opened, she could immediately tell this was Lucius’s private space.
Unlike the other rooms, she could feel the passage of time here.
The interior was dim. The curtains were half-drawn, blocking out the light. The air held a mixture of ink, paper, and the very faint lingering scent of cologne.
It was a fragrance she often caught on Lucius.
“Does he stay here?”
Celia hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. She still hated the feeling of rummaging through someone else’s private space. She was no common thief, and yet here she was, forced to feel such shame.
“If it weren’t for that damned Logistics Consignment Document.”
It was a space with nothing particularly special about it.
A long, sturdy desk in the center of the room; a low display case near the window—that was the plain entirety of it.
Instead, a single low leather chair had been placed in front of the fireplace.
“There’s nothing here. What was he doing in this place alone?”
Time was pressing, so she moved quickly.
The first place she examined was below the bookcase.
She pulled out several books with faded spines and checked them, then went through the stacked objects one by one. Sealed letters, ledgers from past transactions, documents that had become useless.
All of it was oddly neat. Unlike her, who was now on her knees, groping about the floor.
“…Damn.”
A rat gnawing scraps from the kitchen would have looked less pathetic than she did now.
Disappointed, Celia approached the low display case without expectation.
She had no choice but to tilt her head with a subtle expression.
“No dust?”
A room not often used should accumulate dust in various places no matter how well it was maintained—yet not here.
The bottom drawer. It looked like an ordinary one at first glance, but when she pulled the handle, something caught slightly.
“…?”
She immediately dropped to her knees.
When her nails traced the slightly open interior, she felt a thin latch hidden beneath the wood.
“Hgh.”
She clenched her teeth and pulled the drawer hard.
There was a sharp click as something inside gave way.
It was a double structure.
Once the outer drawer came out, there was another thin panel behind it.
“…He wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of making something like this without reason.”
Celia held her breath and slid the panel upward.
Inside was a small iron box. There was no lock, but it was sealed very firmly shut.
“Something hidden this well could only be one thing.”
Her heart quickened slightly, wondering if she’d finally found it.
The days when she’d fretted over whether they’d all be accused of treason, whether her family would be executed—those days were already waving from far away.
Celia smiled and opened the lid.
Click.
That was when her face went deathly pale.
“What?”
On top was a single page of the Auction Catalog, crumpled and then smoothed out again.
The page of this villa that she’d noticed—yet which Lucius had ultimately won at auction.
Beneath it was…a newspaper, several dates old.
[ House of Brickwell’s Young Mistress—Who Is Her Debutante Partner? ]
[ Eldest Daughter of House Brickwell Receives Praise for Charitable Speech. ]
And…
Withered flower petals.
A brief note.
A letter she’d once forced herself to send him.
“My brooch.”
The brooch she’d lost as a child—she barely remembered it.
A gem that had not lost its luster fell beneath her hand.
“Why is this here…?”
Her gaze trembled finely, confused. Her vision, which had been shaking uncontrollably, caught on something else. A short breath was drawn between her dry lips.
“The Logistics Consignment Document.”
There it was—the thing she’d been searching for, full of traces of her that she never knew existed.
Celia sat in the midst of scattered items and held her breath in silence.
For a very long time.
***
Lucius Windmere.
Had he not lost his memory, they would have had no point of connection except to hate each other eternally.
She thought she knew him well. She’d watched him tenaciously enough to hate him.
While others sought out his good points, she had picked apart his flaws one by one. In this way, Celia had come to know him in ways others did not.
But this…
“Did you come here often?”
How could she even explain?
Celia hurriedly hid the brooch and rose to her feet.
Lucius was approaching, shaking out his wet hair.
The hastily dressed Lucius, in clothes brought by servants, seemed somehow more careless than usual. The black shirt that didn’t fit properly and hung tight, the trousers with their loosely tied waist—such things gave that impression.
Celia watched him draw near, shoulders drawn up.
Like a beast before its prey, it was only natural that Lucius’s footsteps slowed as he approached.
“You were scared to be alone, weren’t you?”
“What?”
“Your expression looked troubled.”
He spoke in a playful voice, tilting his head slightly.
Yet those blue eyes, full of suspicion, still pierced her with their gaze.
Only hours had passed since he’d soothed her anger. Lucius was quite bewildered by the change in Celia’s demeanor in the time he’d spent washing.
“Celia?”
“Lucius.”
“Yes, what is it?”
He spoke in a voice even more tender than usual, his eyes narrowing with a smile. This was the smugness of someone who’d noticed that she always softened when he smiled like this.
Water droplets fell from his wet hair. Celia fixed her gaze on those droplets that traced the line of his neck and fell like beads below his collarbones, and soon she asked.
“Is my appearance to your taste?”
“…What?”
Lucius, who had been following her line of sight, faltered.
His eyes, which had curved so beautifully, rose again and locked directly with hers. His gaze, which had been deliberately composed, widened into circles as his pupils trembled precariously.
“I’ve never really… given that much thought…”
“Why not? You must have some notion of appealing appearance—your own preferences.”
Celia grasped his arm and rose, pressing the question relentlessly.
For Lucius, this was an awkward question.
Evaluating the appearance of the opposite sex was generally something one did only when there was affection involved. So he didn’t know his own standards well. Celia had always been beside him.
Yet even he understood.
Right now he absolutely had to find an answer that would satisfy her.
“I’ve never thought about whether others are to my taste…”
“Never?”
“But I think you’re beautiful.”
Still an odd creature.
Why did she ask? She really shouldn’t have asked!
The strength drained from Celia’s fingers where she’d been gripping his forearm.
“…That’s so cloying. Trite.”
He let out a measured laugh.
“There. Is your question answered now?”
She answered by turning her head away.
Though she’d heard words that made her skin prickle, she’d learned something because of them.
‘So my face is this bastard’s type, is it.’
But this didn’t become the basis for Lucius collecting items related to her.
If he’d go so far as to gather her traces simply because he favored her appearance, their relationship would never have reached such a nadir.
‘Then is it just part of information gathering?’
This hypothesis had merit. The Logistics Consignment Document her father had sought so desperately was there as well.
By the way, that document was still in Lucius’s custody. Before she’d had time to compose herself, his voice calling for her had echoed from below.
Thanks to that, Celia had barely managed to seal the scattered items and the open drawer before fleeing.
‘Anyway, he’s lost his memory. I’m the only one who knows about that double structure now.’
It was a drawer full of secrets.
The Contract they’d signed. The Divorce Documents—they were all there.
“Celia. Don’t think such distant thoughts when you’re right here with me.”
Thoughts of the past.
Creak. The old bed groaned as it bore his weight.
Yet once a question had taken root, it wouldn’t let go.
“Your husband is right here. You should focus on me.”
His hand slid down to beside her thigh. The sheets crumpled as his weight shifted them. His face drew closer, his touch grew intimate, and his breath touched her.
At that very moment, a revolutionary thought struck her mind like lightning.
“All right.”
“…Hmm?”
“Let me focus on you.”
Celia pushed against his chest and sat up, raising her upper body.
A frightening man—she hadn’t even noticed when he’d half-reclined her onto the bed. She moved the hand that had rested on his chest and covered his cheek with it.
In the moment when his eyes, startled at first, softened into a drowsy expectancy—she threw cold water on the flames.
“Let’s drink together.”
“Drink?”
Lucius almost asked: ‘That thing you drank yesterday that made me angry?’ But Celia merely smiled.
It was a beautiful smile, cunning and beguiling all at once.
“Let’s play a drinking game. Loser drinks.”
Though she was weaker with alcohol than he was.
But at games, she won eight times out of ten. Celia spoke with confidence.
“And if you don’t want to drink, you answer the other person’s question honestly instead. How about it?”

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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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