MLS Chapter 4

There is no secret in the world that can remain hidden forever.

It was nearly half a year into Lorena’s quiet, isolated life at the cloistered Soto Monastery when the truth finally caught up with her.

After attending the morning mass with the monks, she remained alone in the chapel, lost in thought, until she suddenly realized that a shadow had fallen over her.

Curious, she looked up and gasped softly.

“You…”

The man standing above her was startlingly handsome, with golden-brown hair cascading across his forehead and temples, and intense, deep red eyes that carried an almost sensual allure.

The sunlight, filtering through the cross-shaped window, illuminated his golden hair like a halo, while his face, cast in shadow, exuded an air of cool, reserved authority. His physique, perfectly proportioned like a statue of David, was dressed in a deep brown suit. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his tie hung loosely around his neck—an appearance entirely inappropriate for the monastery.

Lorena’s eyes filled with confusion.

“How did you get in here? Only priests and nuns are allowed in this part of the monastery…”

He seemed completely unfazed by her concern, as if he had been watching her for some time. Without blinking, he gazed down at her and spoke in a low, indifferent tone.

“Meddling isn’t really my thing.”

“What do you mean…?”

Ignoring her question, he leaned forward and placed a newspaper on her lap. His sudden nearness brought with it the faint scent of musk, which just as quickly receded as he straightened.

“You seemed unaware.”

Then, pulling a lighter from his jacket pocket, he flicked it open, causing a sharp sound of friction to spark above her head. The click of the lighter unsettled her, sending a shiver down her spine as an inexplicable sense of foreboding settled over her.

‘What am I unaware of?’

Lorena’s unease grew as she carefully unfolded the newspaper.

The front-page headline immediately grabbed her attention, covering more than half of the page.

[P.N. Klein Bank Bessen Branch, Finally Bankrupt!]

“…What?” Lorena blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend the words staring back at her.

The bold headline felt surreal, almost grotesque.

[After the death of Vicenzo Klein in April, the House of Levantes determined that Klein Bank’s credibility had drastically diminished, leading to the withdrawal of the 50 million pesecas deposited in the bank. Following this, other esteemed noble families in Bessen also began withdrawing their funds, resulting in a mass withdrawal of deposits from worried clients, which caused an unprecedented scene…]

In the accompanying photo, a massive crowd of people, numbering in the hundreds, had gathered in front of the bank her father had always been so proud of. It was an image that symbolized the very disaster her father had always warned bankers to avoid at all costs—a large-scale bank run.

[Klein Bank Withdraws from Bessen. Ingerd Branch Also Files for Bankruptcy!]

But the image, the article—none of it registered with her.

Lorena’s eyes fixated on one particular line, repeating it over and over in her mind.

‘After the death of Vicenzo Klein in April…’

‘Father… is dead?’

He passed away in April…?

‘That’s strange’

Lorena placed the newspaper down and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Her vision blurred, and the world felt like it was tipping over.

Everything felt strangely unreal. Something was very, very wrong.

“My husband… promised to protect us.”

The words spilled from her lips in a stunned, hollow murmur.

Vaye had promised. He had told her to wait here, in the monastery, for just six months. He said her father would be released soon and would return safely to Ingerd…

Unconsciously, Lorena lifted her gaze, seeking help from the man standing before her. He had been watching her intently, and now he spoke.

“Vicenzo Klein shot himself the day after he was detained by the police. Whether it was truly suicide or not, only the officers who interrogated him would know.”

“He… died the day after he was arrested?”

The same day Lorena had been questioned at the Levantes estate. The same night she had clung to her husband, pleading with him to save her father.

As she was desperately kissing her husband, her father had already been dead.

“…That’s a lie.”

The world spun.

Her stomach churned violently. Lorena doubled over, gagging as nausea overtook her.

Everything around her had flipped upside down, revealing a grotesque and ugly reality.

‘Did he deceive me?’

Vaye Levantes had visited her at the monastery once a month, just as he promised. Coincidentally, it was always on the same date they fulfilled their conjugal duties as a couple.

The act itself had always been… more than just about producing an heir. It had been as intense and indulgent as ever.

But was that all there was to it?

Lorena’s mind snapped into focus.

[Duke Levantes Withdraws Entire 50 Million Peseca Deposit from Klein Bank!]

‘Is that it?’

Was it simply that he had hidden her father’s death from her?

“The world doesn’t lie for your convenience,” the man before her said, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

“Look closely, señora.”

He grabbed Lorena’s trembling hand with a firm grip, a rough hand hardened with calluses despite his beautiful appearance. He pressed the newspaper back into her grasp.

“See for yourself who orchestrated all of this.”

[Klein Bank, Facing Financial Collapse, Demands Debt Repayment from Debtors, Mainly Ingerd Railroad and Steel Companies…]

[Ingerd’s Pebble Railroad Declares Bankruptcy!]

[Rails Shipping Co. Files for Bankruptcy…]

[Chain Reaction of Bankruptcies, Klein Bank Unable to Recover Capital…]

The article detailed the collapse of several prominent companies, including Pebble Railroad and Rails Shipping, which were key to Ingerd’s reconstruction efforts. These companies had poured astronomical amounts of money into rebuilding Ingerd.

With Klein Bank demanding immediate repayment, these companies, still finding their footing in the newly stabilized republic, had no way of producing such large sums of cash overnight.

Within months, they had all declared bankruptcy. The chain reaction of failures spread to smaller, interconnected companies, resulting in mass closures. It was a catastrophic domino effect.

The butterfly effect was staggering.

The Republic of Ingerd’s plan to repay its war reparations through the issuance of government bonds fell apart when the banks that were supposed to purchase the bonds collapsed. As the major companies went under, tens of thousands of people lost their jobs and took to the streets. Riots broke out daily, and the incompetent republican government faced a torrent of public outrage.

In the six months that Lorena had closed her eyes and ears to the world, her homeland had been reduced to ruins.

Lorena clutched the newspaper, her hands fumbling as she reread a critical passage.

‘The cause… the direct cause of the bankruptcy…’

[Duke Levantes Withdraws 50 Million Peseca Deposit from Klein Bank Last Month!]

[The Worst Bank Run in History!]

(Bank run: A large-scale withdrawal of deposits)

It felt as if she had been struck in the back of the head with a blunt weapon.

Vaye Levantes hadn’t even lifted a finger. He had merely withdrawn a sum of money—an amount insignificant to him—from a bank, and in doing so, had brought an entire country to ruin.

‘And all of this is just a coincidence?’

The room swam with the curling smoke of a cigar, distorting her vision. The man who had torn away her blindfold and forced her to confront this cruel reality was standing before her, smoking, his form obscured by the haze. His posture, standing against the sacred light of the chapel, seemed obscenely sacrilegious.

His eyes locked onto hers as he muttered in a low, deliberate Latin phrase.

“Non est deus.”

There is no God.

Everything that happens is at the hands of men.

In that moment, a sudden memory of her last day in Motrel flashed through Lorena’s mind.

The heavy scent of Vaye’s cigar, tainted with the subtle but unmistakable odor of gunpowder. Gunpowder, a gun… a barrel…

‘Vicenzo Klein died of a gunshot wound to the head…’

“…Ha, haha.”

Finally, Lorena burst into a hysterical, bitter laugh, the sound almost manic.

‘Coincidence?’

Just some cruel coincidence, all of this?

Her stomach twisted, the pain sharp, as if a knife had been driven into her gut. She clutched her head and curled into herself like a wounded animal.

No. It wasn’t a coincidence.

There hadn’t been a single line of chance in the string of tragedies that had befallen her since last spring.