Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 147
Rose raised an eyebrow, propping his chin on his hand with a faint smile.
“Ah, Becky Dustin. That woman.”
He spoke as if casually mentioning an insect he had swatted away yesterday, or counting the sandcastles he’d unknowingly destroyed as a child. His voice was utterly indifferent.
In that unconcerned tone, Rose replied without a trace of remorse.
“You were curious, Richelle. About what happened to her.”
“…Are you saying you killed her right before my eyes just to satisfy my curiosity?”
“Indeed. I wanted to show you.”
He dropped a rose-shaped sugar cube into his teacup. Amid the heavy rose scent, it dissolved without a trace.
“To show you what happens to those who dare put you in danger… and to demonstrate just what I’m willing to do to keep you safe.”
Clear and vivid, his red eyes turned to her.
“So? Did it please you?”
“…Did it please me?”
Her lips trembled. Did it please her?
“Are you even listening to yourself?”
Whenever she closed her eyes, Becky Dustin’s final moments returned vividly. The lifeless limbs, her severed arm rolling away, leaving a trail of red.
And the red pool of blood, spilling endlessly…
“Urgh.”
Suppressing a wave of nausea, Richelle clamped a hand over her mouth. Rose, with a look of feigned sympathy, placed his hand on the back of hers.
The coldness seeped into her hand like a crawling line of ants.
“Don’t touch me!”
With a shudder, she jerked her hand away. Though the movement was forceful, Rose showed no anger or shock, only maintaining his gentle smile.
He watched her reaction as if observing the antics of a pet.
Richelle gritted her teeth.
“…Just because someone caused trouble doesn’t mean they deserve to die! You had no right to decide that!”
“This mansion is mine. And everything within it belongs to me. So, if I decide to slice my cake and feed it to myself, or crush it with a fork, who has any right to interfere?”
Rose’s fork mercilessly pressed down on a small strawberry cake, reducing it to pulp. He tapped at the smashed strawberry with his fork.
“And she wasn’t ‘just’ some person, Richelle.”
The crushed remains of the strawberry dripped red, evoking the image of… something. Something that had once pulsed with life, violently crushed beneath the chef’s teeth.
Rose continued, idly dragging his fork across the plate.
“She dared to lay a hand on you… presumptuously, unaware of her place.”
Therefore, she had to pay the price.
He smiled, as casually as he would offer a morning greeting.
The sensation was as though a fork had pierced her throat, leaving her unable to breathe. Richelle’s hands went to her neck.
Was this revulsion? Horror?
No, it was fear.
A fear of an incomprehensible being, an entity beyond human comprehension. And the terror that her suspicions were finally becoming confirmed.
Richelle knew this was the moment to ask the most important question.
“Is that why you… killed my mother, too?”
The moment that had sparked her doubts about Rogéros Walter, and driven her to join hands with Alan Otis.
“Because you thought she might harm me?”
The cause of her mother’s death.
Rose’s beautiful face took on a deep, unsettling smile.
“My poor Richelle. I know people like her well.”
He reached out and gently touched her cold cheek.
“People like her never change. Your kind heart wanted to give her a chance, didn’t it?”
His gaze softened with pity as he looked at her.
“No matter how hard you tried, she would never have changed. She’d pretend to listen for a while, only to revert to her ways and hurt you again. She’d cling to you like a parasite, gnawing her way into the deepest parts of your heart.”
“…Even if that’s true, it’s my responsibility to bear.”
She barely managed to force out her voice, even as her throat rasped with rough breaths. Rose’s smile twisted slightly.
“What, exactly, is family to humans?”
“……”
“Just because they share blood, humans are quick to forgive so much. To forgive, to accept, to sacrifice for them…”
Rose’s hand moved gently, brushing back her hair like one would a precious artifact.
“But I don’t ever want to see you become like that.”
“What…?”
“I won’t ever allow it.”
The hand that had been as gentle as a spring breeze suddenly tightened around her chin with crushing force. Richelle let out a faint whimper, but he paid it no mind.
“It’s alright. I know the folly of humanity all too well now. I’ll do for you what you couldn’t. Even the things you’re unwilling to do, I’ll handle them all.”
The words he spoke, so tenderly, were in jarring contrast to his brutal grip. Richelle’s lips parted in quiet shock.
“You… really…”
“This hurts now, I know. It feels tragic. But eventually, you’ll come to be grateful for your mother’s early death.”
The crimson eyes, unwavering, held a look of certainty and exhilaration.
He had killed her mother. And murdered Becky Dustin in the most brutal way possible.
And now, he claimed it was all ‘for her sake’.
It was nauseating. Every moment she’d given her heart to him filled her with searing regret. Yet, she had to ask.
“What do you want from me?”
