MLS Chapter 8

After nearly dismantling half the wall, the locksmith finally exposed the safe’s interior. Lorena spent the entire afternoon combing through the safe and the study.

In hindsight, there had been no need to call a locksmith. The information she sought had been scattered across the duke’s desk, drawers, bookshelves, and side tables.

What Lorena needed was evidence that Bessen had been planning to devour Ingerd—and that the Klein Bank, along with her family, had been ruthlessly exploited in the process.

She needed to understand when the alliance between Levantes and Bessen’s royal family had begun and what strategies had been devised to prepare for what was to come.

The results of her search now lay piled high around her.

Lists of spies secretly dispatched by the royal family to Ingerd, confidential documents known only to Ingerd’s government officials, and even a copy of a clandestine agreement with the Kingdom of Lennon, Ingerd’s sworn enemy.

Reports meticulously analyzing the past seven years of activities and movements of Vicenzo and Alfonso Klein, details about the Klein Bank’s liquidity ratios, Ingerd’s national investment projects, and even the political ideologies of both men.

The vast trove of documents, labeled under ‘Operation Canary’, was overwhelming. Even after hours of frantic searching, Lorena had barely scratched the surface.

Sitting amidst the towering stacks of papers, Lorena let out a hollow laugh.

“So it was true. Vaye, you really…”

Perhaps she had clung to a sliver of hope.

That there had been affection, if not love. That his actions had been born of petty, cruel ambition rather than a meticulously orchestrated scheme. That the living hell she had endured for the past half-year hadn’t been real.

But the unveiled truth was as cold and merciless as ice piercing through her bones.

‘It could only have been deliberate.’

The plan to use the Kleins to destabilize Ingerd’s foundation had begun at least seven years ago, possibly as far back as nine.

In retrospect, very few of Bessen’s aristocracy had deposited substantial sums in the Klein Bank. The nobles invited to the Nass dinner numbered fewer than ten.

No one would willingly deposit their wealth in a bank destined for bankruptcy. Klein’s downfall had been preordained, and many of Bessen’s high nobles privy to this fact had been complicit with Vaye Levantes.

Now, standing at this moment in time after being hurled into the past, Lorena faced one critical issue: the money Levantes had tied up in the Klein Bank.

‘I need to pull that money out. Vaye must not be allowed to manipulate the bank with his massive deposits.’

A single withdrawal of Vaye Levantes’ 50 million peseca deposit could destabilize the bank’s credit. Not because the Klein Bank was weak, but because Vaye’s influence loomed too large.

As soon as she thought of that sum, Lorena redoubled her efforts, scouring the safe. Yet among the countless documents recording the distribution of Levantes’ vast wealth, the deposit certificate for the Klein Bank was conspicuously missing.

‘Did he hide it somewhere else? Or is it in someone else’s hands?’

Even if Lorena managed to locate the deposit certificate, she couldn’t directly withdraw the funds unless she was the account holder.

In the end, the duke himself would have to make the withdrawal. In her previous life, he had done so under the pretext that “Banker Vicenzo was a spy selling financial information to Ingerd,” which had severely damaged the bank’s reputation.

‘Even if he withdraws the money, it must not harm the bank’s credibility.’

Thus, she needed to create a plausible, ‘personal’ reason for him to withdraw the deposit without arousing suspicion.

Lorena muttered to herself as the thought took shape.

“Divorce…”

The word she had wielded to silence Samuel. Divorce.

A concept Vaye Levantes had adamantly refused to entertain, even at the bitter end.

<When we return to the capital, will you grant me a divorce?>

<You still don’t understand, Lorena Levantes. The place you’ll return to is my mansion—the home where you’ve lived for the past seven years and where you will continue to live.>

The despair and hatred that had once torn her heart apart flared anew. A frosty chill swept through her emerald eyes, once blurred with tears.

‘If the Duke of Levantes withdrew his deposit from the Klein Bank because of a divorce…’

What if it were a scandalous, bitter divorce that left no room for subtlety?

Divorce was a deeply personal matter, wholly unrelated to investments or the bank’s credibility. It would also serve as a perfect reason for Lorena to storm out of the mansion.

Yes, everything pointed to one solution: an urgent divorce. The goal for this second chance at life became crystal clear.

‘But what grounds could I use?’

Lorena anxiously chewed on the pen cap.

Even if she presented these confidential documents to the court as evidence and demanded a divorce, it would never be accepted. The Duke of Levantes, the aristocracy, and Bessen’s royal family were all in league. The undeniable connection between these two powers left no room for doubt.

The duke would only discard her after draining every last drop of Klein’s wealth and information.

“I need grounds for divorce that the royal family won’t question. It must be entirely Vaye’s fault.”

Calming her racing thoughts, Lorena began retracing the events of the past.

April 1st—today. She had sat on this very sofa to confront her husband.

By the morning of April 2nd, armed police and soldiers had stormed the mansion, and late that night, the duke had returned home.

Her father would have been murdered during that time.

‘What else happened in those two days?’

Despite being a mere half-year ago, her memories felt frustratingly fragmented.

Feeling stifled, Lorena pressed her chest and returned to her bedroom. A pristine white envelope neatly placed next to the flower vase caught her eye.

In that moment, a vivid memory flashed through her mind.

<Poor Señora. Vaye has given you one last chance.>

“Ah!”

Lorena leaped to her feet. Snatching the envelope, she pulled out the photograph it contained. Just then, through the glass window, she noticed the mansion’s front gate slowly opening in the distance.

A black carriage glided silently through the gate, approaching the estate.

‘There it is…’

There it was—the perfect grounds for her divorce—entering the mansion at that very moment.

* * *

Fortunately for Lorena, not everything from the past had changed.

Some events were unfolding exactly as they had before.

For instance, the visit from Arisa Menendo and Olivia Quintana.

In her hands, Lorena held a crisp photograph she had found earlier, capturing a brazenly explicit scene of her husband in a tryst with his mistress. Slipping the photo into her pocket, she purposefully donned the same dress she had worn that day in her previous life.

Then she descended to the second floor and entered the study. After closing the door firmly behind her, she grasped the doorknob tightly and began to count silently.

‘One, two, three…’

At eight, nine, ten, she flung the door wide open.

Standing in the hallway were two women, staring at her with startled eyes.

A thrill swept down Lorena’s spine.

“…Arisa.”

And Olivia Quintana. The tanned beauty tilted her chin upward with confident defiance, her gaze sweeping over Lorena as though sizing her up.

How endearing that look of condescension was! Lorena barely suppressed the urge to pull her into an embrace and instead turned her attention to Arisa.

“What brings you here? I wasn’t told to expect you.”

“I was invited.”

Arisa Menendo’s characteristic smirk lit her face as she wrinkled her nose. The response matched exactly what Lorena remembered from the past, right down to the way Arisa stood with her arms crossed, waiting for Lorena to approach her.

Testing fate, Lorena altered her next question.

“When was this arranged?”

“Two days ago. His Grace personally asked Miss Quintana here to visit the mansion.”

Arisa looped her arm familiarly around Olivia Quintana’s, her tone brimming with warmth.

Vaye Levantes had invited the two women to the mansion. This meant that as recently as two days ago, he had no intention of leaving.

What had happened last night at the Alborada Hotel that could drive such a meticulous man to abandon his plans and leave the capital?

“Miss Quintana has never been to the Levantes estate before, so I came along as company. Besides, I was curious to see how you’ve been.”

The words carried the distinct undertone of someone eager to witness Lorena’s suffering firsthand.

Without a word, Lorena smiled faintly before turning her gaze to Olivia Quintana.

“You must have come to see the duke, Miss Quintana. I’m sorry to say he’s currently away from the mansion.”

“What? That can’t be…”

“I don’t know the details, but if he arranged to meet you, he’ll surely return soon. Please wait in the parlor. Hena, serve Miss Quintana some refreshments.”

Rather than being flustered, Lorena’s polite and composed demeanor seemed to unsettle Arisa, who scowled in displeasure. With a glare that practically screamed disdain, Arisa tugged at Olivia’s arm.

“Very well, Olivia. It seems you have urgent business with him. Let’s go inside and wait. The cranberry butter cookies here are divine.”

“Arisa, I’d like you to stay here.”

“Why?”

“We have something important to discuss, don’t we?”

Arisa’s lips curled into a triumphant smile as she wrinkled her nose and spoke,

“Fine, sure. But don’t take too long—I can’t leave Miss Quintana alone for too long.”

The moment Olivia Quintana stepped into the parlor, Lorena firmly closed the door behind her. It wasn’t just a gesture; it was a deliberate act to prevent Olivia from sensing anything unusual and fleeing.

With her husband’s mistress locked away in the parlor, Lorena turned to face her “friend.” Arisa tilted her head, motioning for Lorena to follow her.

“Heading to your room on the third floor, I presume? Let me warn you, 30 minutes is all I can spare. Any longer—”

“No need to go upstairs. I only have one question for you.”

Lorena had no intention of offering Arisa the comfort of her private room’s plush sofas. She only needed to confirm one thing.

“Do you know what’s going to happen tonight?”

Arisa blinked her long lashes, clearly caught off guard.

Her behavior, when examined closely, was suspicious.

Just two days ago, Arisa had sent Lorena the incriminating photos of Vaye Levantes and Olivia Quintana in their secret rendezvous. Yet here she was now, arm in arm with Olivia, arriving at the mansion without hesitation.

‘There must have been a turning point—something that made Arisa change sides.’

What did Arisa Menendo know?

“I’ve… heard things,” Lorena said softly, her large eyes filling with transparent tears.

As her tears welled up and spilled over, Arisa let out a small, amused gasp.

“Oh my, you’re not entirely clueless, are you, Lorena?”

Arisa giggled, her amusement bubbling over. Finally, the haughty demeanor Lorena had displayed earlier seemed to crumble, much to Arisa’s satisfaction.

“Poor thing. Should I let you in on a little secret?”

“…Tell me. Anything.”

“Olivia said something interesting. She said that after today, no one in Motrel will see you again.”

Lorena bit her lower lip so hard it almost bled. Arisa savored the sight of her “friend’s” face twisting in anguish, the moment of triumph sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“When His Grace returns, you’ll be gone, Lorena. It’s been decided for a long time, apparently. You could have saved yourself the trouble of snooping around if you’d known that sooner.”

“Gone? You mean he plans to drive me out of here? Or… is he preparing for a divorce?”

“Divorce, of course. What else would it be?”

Arisa shrugged as though Lorena’s question were redundant. Caught up in her own glee, she failed to notice that Lorena’s tears had already dried.

“This should have happened ages ago. Did you really think you deserved the title of Duchess of Levantes? You should have removed yourself before His Grace had to make the decision. Honestly, you’ve always lacked awareness.”

“…”

“Well, that’s your fate. And just so we’re clear, I can’t help you. I have no intention of doing so either.”

“Fate, you say? I’m truly looking forward to it.”

Lorena wiped the remnants of her tears from her chin with the back of her hand and raised her gaze.

When their eyes met, something in Lorena’s expression made Arisa flinch involuntarily.

‘What is this? Why does she look like that again…?’