No Love For The Villain - Chapter 7
His gaze remained calm, even when asked for murder.
How many people had entrusted their deaths to him?
To him, it would be just another insignificant death. That’s why she wished for him. A man who would kill her without pity or compassion, just as spring follows winter.
But the more she wished for it, the more he seemed to play a cruel trick, withdrawing with indifference.
“Well, I’m quite expensive.”
Perhaps those who wished for their own deaths didn’t offer him enough money. Was that why he didn’t strangle her but instead covered her with his coat?
“I have a lot of money.”
“Oh?”
His tone suggested that no matter what she desperately offered, it was nothing special.
“I have my father’s inheritance, and the house.”
She swallowed deeply, not mentioning that it was all tied up by the pastor. Hesitantly, Sierra grabbed the hem of Eli’s suit jacket.
The man, who had been indifferent to the talk of money, softened his gaze for a moment. He seemed more interested in her clinging attitude than the money.
“Money is too easy.”
“……”
“Use your head more. Think about what you have that I might want.”
But Sierra couldn’t find a single thing about herself that would be desirable to him. She could imagine how she must look in his eyes.
A woman with nothing to offer as payment for murder.
Sierra felt like he might leave at any moment. Her grip on his jacket tightened.
Eli didn’t remove the hand holding onto him. Instead, he slid his arm under her knees.
Lifted into his embrace, Sierra flinched and trembled.
Eli, holding Sierra effortlessly, frowned slightly.
“You’re too light.”
He said it as if that were the problem. As he walked, Sierra’s feet dangled in the air.
Eli’s shoes stepped over the scattered papers. The trampled sorrow, crushed under his feet, was buried in the thawing ground.
As they approached the door, the sound of boisterous voices came from inside. “Shall I pour you more? Some wine too?” Mrs. Miles’s voice rang out clearly.
Eli set Sierra down in front of the door.
“Go inside.”
A low command came from above her head.
Sierra had already intended to go inside without him telling her. She planned to return to her room. But her arm was grabbed. Helplessly pulled along by Eli, Sierra found herself led all the way to the dining table.
The laughter abruptly stopped.
The people seated at the table were looking at the uninvited guest with bewildered faces. Pastor Miles at the head of the table, Mrs. Miles beside him, Daniel, the police officers, even the Mayor of Newland.
The gazes that had been on Eli shifted to Sierra. Because she was wearing the man’s coat, Sierra felt as if she had been lumped together with the intruder.
The tense silence was broken by the sound of Eli’s footsteps. Eli approached the table. Seeing this, Daniel turned pale as if a demon had entered the house.
No one dared to speak recklessly. Like prey holding its breath before a wild beast, as if the first to speak would be the first to die. Everyone ignored the presence of the uninvited man and remained silent.
“Have you had dinner, Miss Knightley?”
Eli’s low voice resonated, breaking the silence. Sierra looked at him, who had addressed her so formally. His watching gaze was sharp, mismatching the politeness.
“If you haven’t eaten, please sit.”
Eli pulled out an empty chair for her. He acted as if treating her like the hostess, while his gaze was like that of a master looking at a subordinate.
As Sierra stood there like a puppet with its strings cut, Eli gripped her shoulder and seated her in the chair.
After placing a knife and fork in Sierra’s hand, Eli turned his gaze to the police officer in the adjacent seat.
The officer, meeting his eyes, reflexively reached for the gun at his hip. Paying no mind to the wary officer, Eli approached and roughly shoved the plate in front of him away.
The sound of the plate shattering, spilling food across the floor, erupted violently. No gunshot was fired.
The officer couldn’t even draw his weapon. He just jerked upright in surprise, scrambling away from the falling plate.
Eli left the frozen officer where he was. He dragged the chair the officer had been sitting on and placed it right next to Sierra. Seated, Eli poured wine into Sierra’s glass. His only objective had been to secure a seat.
A strange contrast persisted between the guests’ tension and the uninvited guest’s composure.
The first to rise was the Mayor of Newland.
“I should be going now. It’s getting late… and the road back to Newland is quite long, you see.”
The mayor stammered an excuse, implying his departure was due to the time, not the intruder. As he left the table, he glanced at Sierra.
“My condolences for the deceased.”
His greeting was the first acknowledgment Sierra had received as the host. Throughout the funeral, it had been Pastor Miles who received the condolences of the mourners.
The mayor glanced at Eli and Sierra as if bundling a fierce dog and its owner together, then left through the doorway. Following suit, Pastor Miles stood up abruptly as if he could no longer endure the situation.
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