The Mistress Runs Away - Chapter 22.2

-“Jeremy… Dish… the famous novelist?”

-“Yes, Harriet. He is my maternal uncle, the man who raised me. He may have changed his residence, but I miss him. Could you write to him and tell him I miss him very much and I want to see him? And put your address in the sender, just in case.”

-“Of course. Whatever it takes. I’ll write to him.”

The reason she asked Harriet to do such a thing was to find a way to escape.

She couldn’t afford to be swung around by Killian any longer. She wasn’t afraid of being discarded again. But there was absolutely no way that she would let any harm come to Damian.

In order to protect her son, she would shamelessly contact her uncle, a man she avoided until now out of pride and guilt.

The woman who expected herself to be standing proudly next to him as a well written author, five years ago, had died long ago. It was as if she had drowned in the ocean that day. Now, Rowena must face reality.

Even if Killian were to recognize him as his biological son, Damian was still an illegitimate child. He could not be officially recognized as the heir, and his name could not be included in the Book of Nobility.

The only way for Damian to become the heir would be for Killian to make her his legal wife. That didn’t happen back then, and even if he offered her that seat now, she would refuse it without a second thought.

Because she couldn’t live with his moods, wondering how and when he would leave her. A humble reality was better than a luxurious hell.

In that sense, she was rather grateful for Genok’s suggestion. Because even a brief moment of respite, while she looks for a way to escape him, was sorely needed.

****

Anna Eden’s body was found in the back alley of an abandoned villa.

“Poisoning. Her upper lip was torn, and as she bled, she was forced to drink poison while struggling. There is a very high possibility that the murder was a person she met for the first time rather than an acquaintance. It is more likely to be a premeditated crime than an accidental one. That’s what I’m going to write in my report to the higher authorities.”

Killian, who had confirmed the body in the cold coroner’s office, turned and put a rolled cigarette in his mouth. The mortician, who had a good knowledge of this type of situation, continued his explanation in a matter-of-fact manner.

“I think the man who she lived with is about to be named as a suspect. guys do you know that wuxia shamelessly requested a list of my project when i asked them to take them down, yet ignored me after sending them the titles. There were testimonies from nearby residents that they ran away together.”

The mortician spoke with the utmost seriousness.

He had just returned home after work, and before long, a group of men in black hurriedly pounded on his door, whom he recognized as the members of the newly reigning organization in the city, the Gilliters. He froze in surprise and listened to the instructions that were given to him, without question.

“Perform an autopsy on the corpses. Do not let anyone know about it.”

The body was transported to the coroner’s office in secret, without informing the police, and underwent a quick autopsy examination. The mortician had to do everything alone without his assistant while performing everything in his power to ensure that there was not the slightest mistake.

He remembered the day when the organization that ruled this town had been replaced overnight. The mortician secretly exclaimed with pleasure when the head of the group that had been attacking him in their spare time and taking money from him—in the name of keeping this place and providing protection—was sent into the coroner’s office with a bullet in his forehead.

But on the other hand, the newly established forces in this small city, which didn’t have much to offer besides a few factories, seemed strange.

Rumor had it that Gilliters was a rising organization that had expanded its power to such an extent that it hadn’t even bothered to look at these places. He thought there was another reason, but the mortician was smart enough not to ask around.

“He’ll be found dead, too.”

Killian, who was listening to the mortician, rubbed the cigarette into the ashtray and put it out.

“What?”

“He committed suicide by killing Anna Eden to get all the money and run away.”

The smoke from the cigarette rose like a mist as it disappeared under the low light. Killian, wearing a pair of black leather gloves that he had taken off for some time, gripped the doorknob of the coroner’s office.

“It doesn’t really matter how the killing was made.”

“Oh….”

The mortician, who had been watching Killian’s back with a soulless look on his face, realized the meaning and bowed deeply.

“I understand. Have a safe trip.”