Try Begging - Chapter 172.2

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The focus once again drifted from his eyes.

‘Would she also push a stroller like that?’

He wandered in his imagination, picturing such a domestic scene, which seemed out of character for the fiery woman he knew. Yet, at the same time, he thought it might be quite charming.

Just then, the car stopped in front of the townhouse.

“Your Excellency, welcome. I trust your journey was pleasant.”

The butler, who had been waiting outside, opened the car door. Leon merely nodded briefly and entered the building.

He shook his head at the butler’s offer to prepare breakfast and headed up to the second floor. Only after washing away the grime of the train journey in a shower did he finally sit down at the dining table.

At the table, set with a light breakfast to his liking, the first thing Leon picked up was a cup of coffee.

As he sipped, his eyes were drawn to a stack of newspapers and letters neatly arranged at one end of the table.

What should he read first?

His gaze stopped at an oddly shaped envelope. It was a suspicious envelope with no stamp.

Clunk.

As soon as he saw the name ‘Daisy Abbington,’ the coffee cup thudded onto its saucer.

As he snatched the letter and tore it open, time seemed to freeze in the dining room. While the serving staff watched him with surprised expressions, the only sign of time passing was the coffee stain spreading across the pristine white tablecloth.

“Ha…”

Leon pulled the engagement ring from the envelope and sighed. The news that Grace had been here was good, though seeing the ring returned was disheartening.

The woman knew he had been searching for the ring. Grace wouldn’t have needed the money, so there was no reason for her to sell it. Yet, losing this clue to track her didn’t feel like a bullet piercing his heart—it was a different kind of pain.

His gaze remained fixed on the names engraved on the inside of the ring.

This was confirmation.

I don’t need a future with you.

It felt as though her scream echoed in his ears. Grace Riddle was the only woman who could kill Leon Winston with nothing but a single word.

Suppressing the feeling of being discarded once again, he asked the flustered butler.

“When did this letter arrive?”

“I got it from the mailbox.”

“And when was the last time the mailbox was checked?”

“It would have been around 6 p.m. yesterday.”

So, she must have come and gone within those twelve hours. Were there any clues to pinpoint the exact time? Leon unfolded the letter, which began abruptly, getting straight to the point without any preamble.

[ Take full responsibility for the child you created, you b*stard. ]

A child.

Leon immediately cast a glance at the butler.

“Where is the child?”

The butler looked perplexed, clearly having no idea what was happening. Growing frustrated, Leon pressed him impatiently for an answer.

“Isn’t there anyone who left a child here?”

“I haven’t heard of such a thing, but I’ll find out right away.”

Just as the butler was about to leave in a hurry, a maid, who was cautiously observing, spoke up.

“Perhaps you’re referring to what Ben saw around six o’clock.”

“Explain in detail.”

“That is….”

At around six in the morning, a servant in a room overlooking the townhouse’s backyard noticed a strange sight as he drew back the curtains.

A woman wearing a wine-red hat stood with a black stroller in the backyard of the Count’s estate. The servant initially thought the woman might be insane and considered calling out to her to leave, but she quickly pushed the stroller away without saying a word.

After hearing the full story, Leon jumped to his feet.

“Call the driver immediately.”

The woman he had seen at the intersection on his way to the townhouse had been Grace. She must have changed her mind and gone back to retrieve the child.

He headed outside and checked his wristwatch.

‘D*mn it. Forty minutes have already passed.’

Just as he reached the central hall, the driver burst through the door from the staff area. All of a sudden, Leon recalled the driver’s earlier comment.

[ “Who’d have thought a mom would be out for a walk with a baby at this hour?” ]

…No, it wasn’t a walk.

He replayed the memory.

There had clearly been a large bag under the stroller. What had seemed trivial moments ago now turned into a crucial clue.