(Evelina’s POV — Hartgrave Mansion—Continuation)
As I turned the corner, my footsteps halted mid-step.
Standing a few paces ahead—pristine white dress, posture of a queen, eyes like winter glass—was Isabella Hartgrave.
Evelina’s mother.
And judging by that carefully unreadable expression on her face, she’d heard everything I’d said to Margaret. I flicked my gaze upward—and the familiar shimr appeared in the corner of my vision:
[Isabella Hartgrave—Affection: 43% ( 3%)]
Three percent higher than before. Her affection was rising faster than Father’s. And that was exactly why it made nervous.
Affection or not, I’d seen this woman’s words used like knives in the ga. No number could erase that mory. So I simply stepped forward, cool and unbothered, walking past her as if she were another piece of expensive furniture.
But then—
"I’ve sent so money to your account," Isabella said, her tone calm but heavy with sothing I couldn’t na.
I paused. Didn’t turn. Didn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing my face.
"...Money?" I asked flatly.
"Yes," she replied, a faint rustle of silk as she shifted her weight. "Buy whatever your heart desires."
The air hung thick for a beat. Then I started walking again. No, thank you. No response. Not even a glance back.
If she wanted to buy redemption, she’d need more than numbers and guilt wrapped in wire transfers.
Still... curiosity was a disease. By the ti I reached the stairs, I pulled out my phone. And then—My brain froze.
"...What the hell."
The balance stared back at —a string of zeroes so long it could qualify as a phone number. I blinked once. Twice. Checked again, just in case I’d fallen into another simulation.
Nope. Still there. Still absurd.
"She... actually sent this?" I muttered, scrolling down in disbelief. "I didn’t even know you could put that many zeroes next to one."
For a second, I just stood there, phone in hand, torn between mild awe and deep confusion.
Then I sighed, rubbing my temple. "Of course she did. Nothing says ’motherly affection’ like financially overwhelming your daughter after years of emotional neglect."
I pocketed the phone and continued down the grand staircase, the marble cold under my heels.
"She’s the strangest person in this house," I mumbled.
***
(Outside the Estate, Later)
The afternoon sun dripped over the marble steps, too bright for the tension pooling in the air. At the base of the staircase, Father stood beside the limousine, immaculate as always—the kind of man whose silence spoke louder than entire boardrooms.
Lucien leaned casually against the car, sunglasses on, posture too relaxed to be genuine. And beside him—Arden, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes sharp.
Sera stood next to him, sunshine personified. Her pastel dress fluttered lightly in the breeze, as if the world itself agreed to flatter her.
The system flickered faintly across my vision.
[Reginald Hartgrave—36%][Lucien Hartgrave—11%][Arden Hartgrave — -3%]
Still negative. Still predictable.
Arden’s gaze t mine for the briefest second—cold, cutting. If hatred were currency, he’d be the richest Hartgrave alive.
Lucien broke the stare first, lowering his shades. "You’re late."
I descended the last few steps, unbothered. "I’m here now, aren’t I?"
His brow arched. "Still took your ti."
Before I could respond, the familiar PLING! chid at the corner of my vision.
[System Alert: New Task Unlocked—Purchase items from the Aurelis Auction Hall.][Reward: ???]
I smiled faintly, my reflection glinting in the car window. "Buy sothing and get a prize, huh?" I murmured under my breath. "How delightfully capitalist of you."
Lucien frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," I said smoothly, opening the car door. "Let’s go."
The interior of the limousine was as luxurious as ever—white leather, tinted windows, and silence thick enough to suffocate in.
I settled into my seat with deliberate calm. "Driver," I said, voice soft but steady, "you can start."
He bowed his head slightly. "Yes, Miss."
The engine purred to life, quiet and expensive.
From the side mirror, I caught sight of Sera stepping into the second car behind us. Naturally. She’d sit with Father, Arden and Lucien.
I turned my attention forward.
"Miss," the driver asked politely, "Are you riding alone again?"
"Yes."
He nodded and the gates of Hartgrave Estate opened before us; the convoy rolled out—black cars gleaming like onyx, the family na cutting through the sunlight like a blade.
For a mont, I watched the estate fade behind us through the window reflection.
All that luxury, all that poison. And now, the real ga begins.
I leaned back against the seat, the hum of the engine blending with the faint shimr of the holographic prompt still hovering in the corner of my vision.
[System Objective: Purchase items from the Aurelis Auction Hall and receive your reward.][Balance: 10,000,000,000,000 credits.]
I blinked once. Then twice.
"...Ten... trillion?"
The glowing numbers pulsed innocently, like they weren’t casually defying the laws of fiscal sanity.
I exhaled through my nose. "So the system just... absorbed the money Mother sent?"
Silence.
Of course. No answer. No manual. Just endless chaos wrapped in blue text boxes.
"Well," I muttered dryly, "at least she’s finally useful for sothing."
I turned my head toward the tinted glass. The city blurred by—towers rising like jagged teeth, the skyline shimring in gold and steel. Aurelis City always looked beautiful from afar. Up close, it was a web of ambition and rot.
But it wasn’t the buildings that made my pulse quicken. It was the sudden flicker of static across my system display.
The text glitched for half a second—a flash of distortion, letters rearranging like a heartbeat skipping a note.
[System Alert: ...err0r... Detected.][Warning: Interference Signal Incoming.]
My spine snapped straight. "What the—?"
Before I could even blink—CRASH!
It wasn’t a deafening explosion, more like a brutal jerk—tal scraping, tires screaming, the kind of impact that yanked you forward before your mind caught up.
The car rocked, my shoulder slamd into the door, and the driver cursed under his breath.
"Did sothing happen, driver?" I asked, my voice calm, but my pulse—oh, my pulse was sprinting.
He glanced back, face pale. "It looks like we... hit another vehicle, Miss."
My brows furrowed. "What? How?"
He swallowed. "I don’t know—the car in front braked suddenly, out of nowhere."
Of course it did.
The mont we stopped moving, I could feel it. The air changed. Too quiet. Too heavy. I turned toward the tinted window.
And then I saw him.
The man was stepping out of the car we’d hit.
The world outside seed still.
Silver hair caught the sunlight—sharp and gleaming like a blade. A black suit perfectly tailored to his fra. Eyes, molten gold under the city glare, locking onto ours with the kind of focus that made your lungs forget how to function.
Theo Vinter.
Mafia heir. Criminal genius. One of Sera’s main routes. And, in the one playthrough I ever completed, the man who’d killed Evelina Hartgrave.
Fantastic.
My first thought: Maybe I can pretend to faint. My second: No—he’d probably shoot to "put out of my misery."
The driver’s voice broke the uneasy silence.
"Miss... that’s—" he swallowed hard, "that’s Theo Vinter. The Vinter Group CEO. He’s rumored to be ruthless. Miss, what do we do?"
I didn’t answer. My brain was busy drafting my obituary.
Here lies Evelina Hartgrave—flattened by plot and poor timing.
Still, bless his terrified soul, the driver found his courage. He stepped out, hands raised, bowing low. "Sir, my apologies! The brakes on the lead car—"
Theo Vinter didn’t respond imdiately.
He stood there, frad by the harsh daylight—tailored black suit, silver hair gleaming like rcury, a presence that made the world seem quieter just to hear him breathe.
Then, with glacial calm, he crouched to inspect the sleek dent on the front of his car. He ran a finger along the paint, the gesture oddly intimate... and terrifying.
When he straightened, his expression hadn’t changed.
But his eyes had. Sharp. Focused. Predatory. And before anyone could blink—
GRAB.
His hand shot forward, fisting the driver’s collar and yanking him half off his feet.
The poor man gasped, his cap tumbling to the pavent. "S-sir! P-please—"
Theo tilted his head, voice low and deliberate—every syllable dipped in quiet danger.
"Do you have any idea," he said, "what you just interrupted?"
The driver stamred, trembling. "I—I apologize, I didn’t see—"
Theo leaned in closer, the corner of his mouth curling in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes."You ruined my perfect mont."
A "perfect mont"?
Don’t tell —
I peeked past the cracked car window.
And there it was. A tiny gray kitten crouched near the curb, trembling in sera’s arm. Lucein, Father and Arden standing beside her.
Of course.
Of course.
This was the scene. The literal mont Sera was supposed to make her saintly debut in Theo’s route. She would’ve stepped out, cradled the cat, and smiled like divine sunlight while Theo watched in awe—the "beginning of his redemption arc."
And here I was—sitting in a car that just crashed into his, watching him manhandle my driver. So, basically... I’d just committed a hit-and-run on destiny.
Then the system blinked.
[System: Warning — You might be late for the auction.]
"...Are you serious right now?" I hissed under my breath. "You think ti managent is the problem here?"
The system stayed silent, glowing innocently, like a smug blue toddler.
I peeked outside again. Theo’s n were everywhere—black suits, guns tucked just enough to be visible, the air thick with tension.
"Damn it," I muttered.
My pulse thudded hard. I could practically hear the danger the playing in the background.
I had two options: Stay in the car and hope he ignores . Step out and risk becoming the cat’s replacent redemption project.
Ugh. Neither option scread survival.
"What do we do?" I mumbled.
I could already feel Theo’s eyes on the car. That heavy, assessing stare. Like a predator cataloging his next move.
If I stayed inside, I’d look guilty. If I stepped out, I might trigger a death flag. My jaw tightened.
"No choice, huh?" I murmured, fingers curling on the door handle.
A low sigh escaped . "Great. I guess I have no choice."
I hesitated for a fraction longer, heart hamring. Because if Theo Vinter was truly anything like his in-ga counterpart...Then stepping out of this car ant stepping into his story.
And I wasn’t supposed to exist there.
The system flickered one last ti.
[Warning: Consequences ahead.]
"No kidding," I whispered.
And with that—I pushed the door open, ready to face the Bratty Mafia.
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