The Villainess Intends to Have It All (13 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 12
Erina couldn’t suppress her laughter at the loud, squawking voice.
“Pff.”
Perhaps having given up on the unbending Heila, Mirea kept calling out only to the easygoing Erina.
Erina couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up uncontrollably at the sight of Mirea flustered, stumbling over her words.
Unconsciously, the lingering weight of “Erina Iols” and her uncertain future seemed to lift the fog from her mind.
For Erina, enduring silently had always been as natural as breathing.
Thus, she had evidently believed it was only right to endure the coming week after returning to this mansion.
Just as she always had.
She had thought she’d simply have to accept and bear it—just another day like all the others she’d known, just another routine occurrence.
Feyron’s contemptuous gaze, Mirea’s absurd behavior, and the servants’ dismissive attitudes.
But that was wrong.
There was no need to foolishly endure it all.
It was fine to say out loud that she disliked something, and perfectly acceptable to refuse what she didn’t want to do.
After all, she would soon become Medelia, not Iols.
No—she suspected even if Erina never fully escaped being an Iols, that truth wouldn’t change.
Speaking up to someone—saying no, expressing dislike—wasn’t going to make the world collapse.
“A-are you… laughing at me right now?”
Mirea, seeming ready to unleash her anger on Erina, huffed furiously and shoved Heila, who stood blocking her way.
But Heila didn’t budge; she stood firm and steady.
Frustrated and unable to move Heila—who stood like a wall—Mirea shrieked in fury.
“Aaah!”
“Dowager Countess Iols, I’m sorry, but you must calm yourself.”
“Move! Get out of my way right now! Aaargh!”
Heila, who had kept her head bowed, finally looked up and stared down at Mirea.
“Th-this…!”
Mirea’s body trembled visibly.
“Heila, it’s fine.”
Erina, still smiling faintly at the corners of her mouth, spoke gently to Heila.
Heila glared at Mirea with unmistakable hostility for a long moment before finally stepping aside.
Mirea, furious at having been frightened, glared at Erina with a bright red face.
Erina, lying in bed, combed her tangled hair with her fingers and asked Mirea calmly,
“What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s the matter’?!”
Mirea snapped angrily, then nervously bit her lips after glancing at Heila, and called out to the maid standing outside the room.
“Come in!”
The maid, startled by the sudden shout, entered stiffly, clutching some documents in her hands.
When Mirea jerked her chin toward Erina, the maid placed the papers on Erina’s bed without even raising her head.
Upon accidentally meeting Erina’s eyes, the maid flinched in alarm and hurried out of the room.
After glancing quickly at the documents, Erina couldn’t hide the chuckle that slipped out.
As always, they’d come to inform her about matters requiring approval from the Countess Iols and to request her seal.
“Hurry and stamp it—it’s for the preparations of the Founding Day Ceremony.”
Erina picked up the documents and examined them.
The list was filled with unnecessarily extravagant expenditures.
What was laughable was that the quantities listed were double those of last year’s.
Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t just Mirea’s purchases.
Rose Ashila’s items were included on the list as well.
Rose had even deliberately bought her cosmetics and shoes here, together with Mirea, though she could easily have gotten them elsewhere.
The intention behind this was obvious.
Just what was Rose Ashila hoping for, so brazenly indulging in luxury and shamelessly carrying out duties reserved exclusively for the Countess?
She probably wanted the dull, unloved official wife to finally understand:
her own presence, her worth, and just how significant the power in her own hands truly was.
Erina simply couldn’t comprehend why Rose made such a fuss over such utterly meaningless fragments of emotion.
“Pff.”
It wasn’t even funny.
After all, Rose was practically just a mistress, not the true wife.
Erina deliberately fluttered the documents in her hand before turning to look at Mirea.
Mirea’s excessive spending had only begun after Erina—whom she considered pushover—became the Countess.
Knowing about Mirea’s lavish habits, Feyron had refused to allocate any amount beyond a strict limit to prevent her from overspending.
But once Mirea learned that the gullible Erina had fallen out of Feyron’s favor, she began treating the Countess’s allotted funds as her own.
Erina had always wanted to explain everything to Feyron, but he had shut his ears to her desperate pleas, blinded by misunderstanding.
So she had simply given up and endured.
But this time, Mirea’s extravagance had gone too far.
If all the items listed in these documents were to be covered by the Countess’s budget, Erina wouldn’t be able to buy anything at all.
In short, they didn’t care whether Erina could prepare for the Founding Day Ceremony or not.
“Hurry up!”
Annoyed by Erina’s silent scrutiny of the documents, Mirea pressed impatiently.
“I don’t want to.”
Erina replied and stretched out her hand to toss the documents off the bed.
She gave Mirea, who stood frozen in shock, a refreshingly bright smile.
“I don’t want to, Dowager Countess Iols.”
“Wh-what…!”
“I really don’t understand why I should stamp these for you.”
“What now!”
“If you’re truly in such a hurry, go ask Count Iols himself for approval—while showing him this ridiculously extravagant list.”
Feyron would never approve it.
Erina knew he wouldn’t, aware as she was of how often the two had clashed over Mirea’s excesses.
But then again—had Feyron ever known?
Had he ever realized that the monthly allowance Erina received had actually been fully spent by Mirea all along?
Of course not.
A dull-witted fool who couldn’t even manage his own coachman would never figure that out.
“Then again… maybe he’ll approve the items Lady Rose Ashila bought.”
After all, he denied her nothing—so perhaps he’d selectively approve only Rose’s purchases.
Mirea’s face flushed crimson with shame.
Hearing such words from her daughter-in-law—that her extravagance as a mother-in-law was unacceptable, even if a mistress’s indulgence was tolerated—filled her with unbearable humiliation.
Perhaps the fact that she felt shame at all was already a good sign.
“In that case, as you can clearly see, I’m unwell and need to rest. Would you please leave?”
At her dismissal, Mirea—trembling from head to toe—snatched up the documents from the floor and fled Erina’s room as if escaping.
“Goodness.”
Heila sighed as she watched Mirea rush out without even closing the door.
Outside, the maid who’d been staring blankly into the room flinched the moment her eyes met Heila’s and darted away in panic.
“I suppose running away is just routine for the Iols family.”
Heila muttered sarcastically, closed the door, and gently helped Erina lie back down.
“Now, the patient needs more rest.”
“Thank you, Heila.”
“It’s nothing. It’s simply what a maid ought to do.”
Heila’s hands, adjusting the blanket and checking Erina’s forehead for fever, felt unfamiliarly warm.
“By the way, don’t worry about Revil—I’ve been taking good care of him.”
Thoughtful and kind-hearted, Heila remembered that Revil was the last person Erina had fretted over, and had been looking after him accordingly.
Fortunately, Revil’s room wasn’t far, so Heila had no trouble tending to the child.
Despite his young age, he required almost no attention.
Moreover, the boy was perceptive enough to stay quietly out of sight in this suffocating household.
“Is Revil doing alright?”
“Of course. So all that matters is for Erina to get well again quickly.”
Just as Heila said, Erina knew she had to recover and get back on her feet as soon as possible.
Feeling drowsy again from the medicine finally taking effect, Erina murmured her thanks and drifted off to sleep.
Heila gently patted Erina’s pale, bony white hand, touched by pity for her.
[This is the timeline separator]
Feyron sat alone in his study, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk, lost in thought.
His father had always told him:
“Love is beautiful and noble.”
“If true love ever finds you, never hesitate—grasp it firmly.”
These were the words his father had repeatedly spoken to Feyron while he was still alive—words Feyron could no longer hear.
From childhood, this single notion had been drilled into him like brainwashing; it had become his personal creed.
So he had held on tightly without letting go.
The moment he met Rose, the world burst into brilliant color—it was so wondrous that he instantly knew he’d fallen for her.
His first love had struck like a fever, rendering him utterly incapable of action.
He’d even forgotten he was married, forgotten that his visit to the orphanage had been solely to find an heir.
Rose, too, had reacted exactly as he had.
Though she’d hesitated at first upon learning he was married, she ultimately took his hand.
Feeling he couldn’t breathe without her by his side, he’d brought her back to the Iols mansion with her consent.
Only when he saw Erina standing there, pale as death, facing the two of them, did he realize his mistake.
But that was all.
Erina was someone who irritated him in every single way.
From the moment they married, her greedy nature showed—she immediately indulged in extravagance, and later demanded his affection unilaterally, using the excuse of producing an heir just to catch his eye.
At first, he’d watched patiently, believing everything was merely a misunderstanding and that she was earnestly trying to talk.
But her words and actions never aligned.
While claiming misunderstandings, she consistently went on spending sprees as if she’d been waiting for the chance.
Having grown sick of extravagance because of his mother, Feyron eventually shut his ears to Erina, whose behavior remained unchanged month after month.
He rejected her pleadings for love, kept his distance, and treated her with caution.
Then, at some point, she suddenly changed—as if that desperate, clinging woman had never existed.
Her suffocating obsession vanished, and she began behaving like an ideal, respectful wife.
She passively accepted her cold husband’s indifference and obediently submitted to her loud, domineering mother-in-law.
Strangely, this new demeanor pleased him even less.
She seemed more artificial than before, wearing a mask that didn’t suit her at all.
Perhaps that was why he hadn’t even considered Erina when deciding to bring Rose into the mansion.
He simply hadn’t felt it necessary.
Of course, regardless of who Erina was, he never would have hesitated to bring Rose home.
“But then… why…?”
Feyron couldn’t understand why Erina’s fragile image—lying unconscious, barely breathing, gasping for air—kept resurfacing in his mind, gnawing persistently at his thoughts.
Male lead fell into her trap — and shattered when she walked away
This is also on my reread list!
This one is a slow burn, but when it burns, it burns hard.
Definitely worth a read, y’all!
The story follows a thousand-year-old seductive spirit who, on a bet, sets out to charm the male lead—a once-promising but unfortunate cultivator.
But just when she succeeds in making him fall for her, she heartlessly leaves, driving him to madness.
Determined to find her at all costs, he captures her, keeping her by his side no matter what, even if she hates him.
I love this kind of trope—I enjoy watching the male lead suffer in agony.
The ending drags a bit with unnecessary filler, but that’s fine.
As long as I enjoy the beginning, I’m good.
Intro
As an enchantress, Su Heng possesses captivating eyes and charming beauty, easily manipulating the joys and sorrows of living beings at her fingertips.
But to enchant a god, making him taste the bitterness of love’s separation, long-lasting resentment, unattainable desires, and inability to let go…
Do you dare?
Su Heng assists a divine lord in his cultivation, aiming to make him experience all the sufferings of love, so that he can attain the Great Dao.
Only after being chased down from the heavens by the divine lord, confined and completely possessed by him, does she realize how successful she has been.
The once gentle and polite youth has transformed into someone she no longer recognizes.
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Chapter Comments (1)
Inline Comments (15)
Her golden hair, glinting in the sunlight, fluttered in the breeze, and her brig
shouldn’t this be He instead of Her? so confused
“I stole everything you had—your honor, your wealth, even Feyron.”
Now things have turned around. The heroine became the villainess. Is it possible that Irina is not transmigrated but living a second life?
“It’s the first time since becoming Arch Sage that someone has called me by name
Erina broke my heart! Erina hasn’t had a real family yet.
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I have an inkling