Chapter 70
Sasha stared at him with an expressionless face. The man's blue eyes gazed upon her with a look of courtship. Those blue eyes, which couldn't even properly meet hers despite having committed such a bold act, flickered restlessly—so much so that they even appeared shy.
These disgusting eyes, drowning alone in their pure devotion.
“All my misunderstandings about you have been cleared up, Mr. Butler.”
“No. Miss Grayson doesn't know me. You don't even know my name. My name is George Butler, and you don't even know that.”
“I said 'misunderstanding,' Mr. George Butler. Moving forward, I can slowly learn more about you. Not by unilaterally dragging me here and forcing a conversation like this.”
She knew this was far from a desirable approach. Far from soothing him, her tone—unable to conceal her aversion—would likely only heighten his agitation. Yet she could not suppress the revulsion rising from within.
“I-I'm different from other men. Unlike those bastards who approach you only for your money, I'm the only one who truly loves you. Everything—how kind you are, how you treated even someone like me without prejudice….”
“….”
“I'm the only one who knows that side of you. So I'm the only one who can make you happy. I am the only one.”
He no longer stammered awkwardly. Instead, brimming with a strange madness, he rapidly spat out those deranged words at length.
When Sasha stopped responding to his words altogether, he dragged himself across the floor on his knees until he was right in front of her.
“…Mmph!”
As if warning him not to come closer, only the gagged maid beside her struggled and emitted muffled groans.
Sasha looked back and forth between George Butler's sweat-glistening face and the maid who, despite being terrified, was trying somehow to divert his attention for her sake.
“I can make myself happy without anyone's help, Mr. Butler.”
“…I.”
Sasha cut off his words and continued flatly.
“I'm asking because I'm truly curious. Setting aside your confidence that you are an excellent man, why do you believe I can only find happiness through someone else?”
“…I-I can give you what you lack. I-I can give you boundless affection that money can't buy. Affection far purer than those men who only see your money.”
“…What if I don't need such things?”
What a joke.
The more she listened, the more impossible it became to contain her irritation.
“What if material things are enough for me? If material abundance is the value I hold above all else, why do you assume I would crave such vague emotional exchanges more than money?”
You never even properly talked with me.
You psycho bastard.
“What if such emotional empathy can't make me happy? I'm far more materialistic than you think, Mr. Butler.”
“….”
“You love me, don't you? That's why you made such a bold decision. You acted recklessly without a thought for the consequences.”
What did he even know about her?
That attitude of his—as if he could save her—when he didn't even properly know who she was… It was truly…
“I'm a very greedy person. I want more money than my inheritance. Emotional stability, abundance—I believe those things must ultimately be supported by material circumstances. Can you bring me that much money for my happiness?”
She was so disgusted she could die.
“…To be honest, I was surprised by your decisiveness, Mr. Butler. So in a way, I'm a little curious. How far you would go for someone like me….”
Sasha couldn't finish her sentence. Because Mr. Butler had simply raised his hand and struck her cheek.
The maid in the back, who had been groaning, let out a scream with a horrified face, but all that emerged was a slightly louder moan than before.
“P-please… please forgive me.”
Having struck her cheek with enough force to turn her head, George Butler knelt right there and apologized to Sasha.
“P-please don't speak such words anymore. No matter what, I cannot turn my heart away from you. …So don't say such nonsense anymore….”
“Do you think I'm lying? I'm not. This is who I am. You're the one arbitrarily….”
“Stop! I said stop!”
Her cheek stung. She had been slapped countless times before, but never with such force that her head rang. A metallic taste lingered on the tip of her tongue. No doubt, the flesh inside her cheek had split open.
“I-I'm sorry. Does it hurt terribly? I-I was simply too agitated. So please, don't tell such self-deceiving lies.”
“…Blaming me again, subtly. You simply couldn't control your anger, Mr. George Butler.”
Sasha looked at the maid, who had somehow freed her bindings and was rising from her spot. Quietly, Sasha gestured with her eyes toward the passage they had come through. It was a signal: she was fine, so the maid should go out and call for help.
But the maid, who had been nodding, froze in place when George Butler seized Sasha's cheek.
“I-I told you to stop saying such bad things, Miss Grayson.”
“….”
“You truly don't seem to know how frightening men can be. You're far more immature and foolish than I thought. If it were me, I'd stay quiet, but you keep deliberately provoking me.”
The hand that had gripped her face as if to crush it relaxed its hold. George Butler, as though his sudden transformation had never occurred, returned to a docile expression and gently stroked Sasha's cheek.
“I-it's alright. We can… slowly adjust to each other and work things out. That immature personality of yours, those bad habits of speech—I can fix them gradually….”
“….”
Sasha caught sight of the maid in the corner of her vision. When George Butler began stroking Sasha's neck, moving past her cheek, the maid walked toward them without hesitation.
“L-let's talk, let's talk again. Calmly. Alright, Miss Grayson?”
And then she charged straight at George Butler and began to strangle him.
＊＊＊
Dilton Manor was thrown into chaos.
One by one, sturdy servants were summoned by Butler Jason, and as they began searching every corner of the manor with grave expressions, the other staff stopped working and came out to see what was happening.
“Rachel, Rachel is missing too.”
The young maid Roseann spoke with tears pooling in her eyes, and a servant who had torn through the second floor where the drawing room was located shouted while shaking his head.
“The second floor is clear!”
It was absolutely maddening. Jason leaned out of the window. The gardeners and servants searching the gardens poked their heads out and shook their heads, indicating no one was there either.
For the master, a maid, and a guest to disappear all at once from the manor of all places was truly a bizarre situation.
“Call the police immediately.”
Isaac observed the chaos as if dumbfounded, then spat out an order to Jason.
While Butler Jason called a servant to send for the police, Isaac turned and headed for the drawing room. According to the young maid, the three of them had been here until the very end.
The manor was visibly ancient. Though well-maintained, it was an old mansion whose considerable age was apparent from the walls and floors alone. And the older a building, the more likely it was to contain forgotten rooms and passages.
Isaac recalled infiltrating a noble's mansion to obtain information. He slowly mulled over the case of that pathetic noble who had placed a safe in a secret room for his mistress. A room that even the staff hadn't known about—a room supposedly passed down only from master to master.
Isaac exited the drawing room and walked all the way out into the corridor leading to the stairs. Might there be such a room here as well?
It was entirely possible. Nobles, then and now, exhausted themselves concealing their private lives in secrecy. Hazy memories surfaced of the various greedy nobles he had been forced to deal with in the course of his work.
Isaac walked along the corridor and stopped. A little further and he would reach the stairs—a spot where other servants couldn't help but see him.
He promptly turned and headed back the way he'd come. Then he stopped at a certain point.
Isaac stopped in front of a potted plant whose leaves were all leaning to one side, as if buffeted by a rough wind indoors.
＊＊＊
George Butler was on the lean side, but his frame itself was sturdy. It was a hopeless mismatch from the start. Choking and gasping, he soon spun around and threw the maid aside.
Sasha stared blankly at the fallen maid.
Why did she do something so stupid? She had seemed perceptive and quick-witted, so why had she foolishly charged in? So what if she was being humiliated a little right now?
“I-I'm going to kill you. How dare you, how dare you….”
George Butler, who had already struck Sasha, had completely lost his mind. He was further infuriated by the fact that the maid had dared to attack him in front of Sasha and damage his pride.
The maid still looked at Sasha while gagged, groaning.
She was telling her to run.
“Y-your maid—I shall educate her in your stead. Sasha.”
Why on earth would she go so far? Sasha couldn't understand the loyal maid's actions. At the same time, she was grateful.
…And at the same time.
Sasha suppressed the emotions welling up within her and slowly rose from her seat. Then she walked toward George Butler, who was unhesitatingly raising his hand toward the maid.
Sasha picked up the cane lying on the floor. It was George Butler's cane.
“Sasha, don't you dare think of leaving your spot….”
George Butler turned his head belatedly and locked eyes with Sasha, who had raised the cane with both hands.
Sasha brought the cane straight down on George Butler's head.