Deceived, Yet Drawn to You - Chapter 130

Her ragged breath caught in her throat. As Blair instinctively wrapped her arms around her abdomen and swallowed dryly, the count’s gaze shifted to her. That greedy look she knew so well was not the gaze of a man looking at his own daughter.

“Come now, Blair. Be good. If you just listen to your father, this can end without anyone else getting hurt.”

A lie. Someone had already died. The metallic scent of blood stung her nose without pause, and the image of the fallen guard remained vivid before her eyes.

“There’s nothing to gain from resisting any further. Come here at once.”

Blair had no authority in this situation. To Count Twyford, she was still nothing more than merchandise on display. A product that had to be preserved without damage until the transaction was complete. Something that would lose value if broken, and therefore couldn’t be handled carelessly.

That realization suddenly drove away her fear. The surge of anger cooled her mind instead. As her emotions settled, she could see the situation clearly again. If escape was impossible, she needed to recognize what cards she still held.

They can’t harm me. At least not until this transaction is finished.

Blair took a deep breath and stepped toward them. Her compliance made a satisfied smile spread across Count Twyford’s lips.

“That’s right. A wise choice.”

“….”

“Well done, Blair. You’ve made the right decision.”

“Damn it! We’ve wasted too much time. Move!”

The man hired by the count grabbed Blair’s arm roughly and urged her forward. Unable to resist, Blair had no choice but to follow as he dragged her along.

***

Edmund, who had been absently tapping his fingers while staring out the car window, pulled the telegram from his inner pocket. Even after reading it several times, a hollow laugh escaped him.

Blair had gone with Count Twyford. Could there be anything more absurd? He didn’t know what honeyed lies that snake, who cared for nothing but money, had used to lure her away, but the fact that he appeared on the very day Edmund couldn’t accompany her to the hospital and took her away could hardly be dismissed as a coincidence.

The same applied to how he’d found a loophole in the prenuptial contract and invoked his rights as the maternal grandfather.

It was Edmund’s mistake. At the time, he never considered the possibility of falling in love with Blair, and naturally, he’d excluded the possibility of having a child. So he’d left those clauses blank, and that gap had been exploited precisely.

At least Blair’s decision to sever ties with the count had stripped him of any justification. But had that single moment of carelessness allowed this uncontrollable situation to unfold?

What troubled him most was that such a scheme could never have originated from the foolish Count Twyford alone.

There was someone who had stirred him into committing all manner of disgraceful acts while remaining uninvolved, withdrawing with perfect elegance.

Edmund knew exactly who stood behind it all.

He crumpled the telegram violently, and the driver glanced nervously at him through the mirror.

Should he have declared it openly instead? That he didn’t need the child. That he could discard the ducal name at any time. That he would burn and destroy anything used as an excuse to hurt her.

From the beginning, Edmund had been capable of that. He could have destroyed the family as originally planned and lived with her without any title at all.

He’d only changed his mind because he judged it wiser to use the family name. If he became the master of a ducal house with a long history, he could protect Blair within a far safer boundary. He believed that within the inviolable domain the family had built over centuries, no one would be able to touch her.

But now, that judgment seemed to mock him.

“We will now enter the count’s townhouse.”

When the vehicle finally reached its destination and came to a stop, the guards who had accompanied them from the ducal estate poured out of the two following cars. Their movements were swift, like a sudden raid. If Blair had seen this scene, she would have been startled, but even then, Edmund hoped all of this would turn out to be unnecessary.

“…Your Grace.”

The townhouse door stood wide open, as if someone had rushed out in a panic. A toppled console table and a shattered vase left the entrance in complete disarray, but no sound of movement could be heard. Edmund didn’t hesitate for even a moment as he stepped inside.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, drops of blood, belonging to no one he could identify, came into view. The trail of blood leading from the entrance hall into the corridor had not yet dried, making it clear the incident had occurred only moments ago. As he moved further, the guards who’d accompanied Blair lay collapsed in front of the drawing room, and on the staircase to the second floor, an unfamiliar man hung limply, dead from a gunshot.

And Blair was nowhere to be seen.

Clenching his teeth, Edmund gave an order as if grinding the words out.

“Contact the Metropolitan Police immediately.”

***

Blair didn’t even know where she’d been taken. She tried to remember as much as possible during the journey, but when the man ordered the count to blindfold her, every clue was cut off. The man seemed far too accustomed to such vile acts.

How long had passed since she was forced into the car, her sight and sense of direction completely taken from her? When Blair finally arrived, it was at a dark building that smelled strongly of mold. Only after seating her on a dust-covered sofa did Count Twyford remove the blindfold.

“Endure it a little longer, even if it’s uncomfortable.”

Blair squinted against the dim light and looked around. The first thing she noticed was the fireplace coated in a thick layer of dust. The peeling wallpaper and flooring, along with furniture that bore no trace of daily life, made it clear the place had been abandoned for a long time.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“Hey, count! If you don’t want to make this worse, shut your daughter up first!”

The man, who had been wrapping a bandage around his injured shoulder, snarled fiercely the moment Blair spoke. Unlike her, who froze in fear, Count Twyford merely scoffed.

“Calm yourself, Kane. She’s a pregnant woman in a fragile state. If anything happens to the child in her womb, the deal falls apart. Surely you understand that.”

“So that’s why you came to me, a specialist in human trafficking, and asked me to kidnap your pregnant daughter?”

When Kane spat in mockery, the count’s face finally twisted. “Who was it who wanted to make one last big score before leaving the country? When did you start acting like the Duke was some big shot?”

“Damn it, how was I supposed to know people would die? Tell me, will I get the money on time or not?”

A brief silence fell. Count Twyford slowly examined Kane’s face, then patted his shoulder as if soothing an enraged beast.

“Now, now… let’s not do this here. Shall we move somewhere else and talk? There’s plenty she doesn’t need to hear.”

Then he turned back to Blair and said sternly, “Blair, I’ll tell you in advance. The door is locked from the inside. It would be best not to entertain any unnecessary thoughts.”

She silently watched their backs as they walked away, their footsteps creaking against the floorboards. The moment they entered a nearby room, she sprang to her feet. It was a relief beyond words that they hadn’t bound her hands and feet.

Suppressing the sound of her steps, Blair headed first toward the entrance. But just as the count had said, the door was firmly locked. When she checked the nearest window, it didn’t budge either, as if it had been nailed shut. Escape was not an option, at least not now.

What should she do? Even knowing it was impossible, she wanted to get out of this place. The man called Kane seemed far more dangerous than her father. Perhaps from the gunshot and heavy blood loss, he seemed even more out of his mind. Could Kane’s instability become an opportunity for her?

After failing to escape, Blair returned to the sofa and sat quietly. Before long, the closed door opened, and Count Twyford approached her with a genial smile.

“My child, Blair. Let’s have a proper conversation now.”

Blair cast her gaze over his shoulder. Kane leaned against the doorframe, staring at her with bloodshot eyes.

“Him as well?”

“No. This is a matter between blood relatives.”