There Is No Paradise Where I Ran Away To (14 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 6
Small hands thrashed desperately for survival. They grasped futilely at the force dragging them toward death, dug in their nails—but it was woefully insufficient to push away the man who had made up his mind.
“In the end, we’ve come this far. I made a promise. And I received one in return.”
His voice, though holding another’s life in his grip, remained untouched by it—as calm and steady as water undisturbed by currents. As his grip tightened slightly, even the strength to struggle began to fade.
“Do you even know what part of myself I staked on that promise?”
Fourteen years ago flashed before his eyes like a lantern parade. In those same vivid blue eyes of the boy from back then, sincerity was unmistakable.
Revenge against Ebelline, who had sent his family to the executioner’s block. And the promise.
Thus, he concluded with certainty that the hands choking him would never loosen.
So this is how it ends, after all.
He would die at the hands of the man he’d once spared, without ever finding his missing father or seeing his mother again, who’d promised to return.
He surrendered his body to fading consciousness.
“Hah—! Gahk!”
Just as Vivian’s resistance began to wane, he abruptly changed his mind and released his grip. She collapsed onto the carriage floor, gulping down the sweet air that rushed in.
Just days ago, he’d grabbed her chin; today, he’d seized her throat. She’d even imagined he might yank her hair next—but that would have been the more refined option.
Before she could catch her breath, Edwin lifted her chin. Tears streamed from her bloodshot eyes, and her mouth was soaked with saliva. With the same hands that had just tried to kill her, he gently wiped her lips clean—so tenderly it stung. His fingertips pressed against her full lips, smearing them softly.
Vivian tried to pull away, pride flaring—but the pressure on her jaw warned her what would happen if he let go any further.
“But not today.”
His flat, emotionless tone held no anger. His dry eyes merely reflected whatever emotion lay within her—and that made her heart even heavier, even more tormented.
“Be reasonable. Choose your timing.”
He held her gaze in silence, letting stillness speak for itself. Its meaning was clear:
You’re free to run from death—but someone else will pay the price for that freedom.
Vivian read his thoughts. Hiding her flustered eyes beneath lowered lids, she let out a helpless, silent sigh.
The rumbling of the carriage wheels quieted. Before the situation could settle, the carriage door swung open, and a gust of wind carrying the scent of wet earth rushed inside. The servant, utterly unprepared for the scene within, gave an unnecessary start, apologized quickly, and backed away.
Humiliation followed close on the heels of despair. As the daughter of Duke Beitnes, she was unaccustomed to such indignity—lying beneath him, her face held fast.
“Open your eyes, Miss Ebelline.”
The merciless man drove her right to the cliff’s edge. As the hand supporting her face withdrew, her strength vanished and her head dropped. At the edge of her vision, the Duke’s shoes gleamed brightly despite the rain—a stark, pristine contrast to her disheveled state, deepening Vivian’s despair.
“You’ve barely begun anything. It’s too soon to play the tragic heroine.”
She wanted to look into the Duke’s eyes at that taunt—to check if they were still as dry and barren as ever—so she lifted her head. But all she saw was the ascot that should have been around Edwin’s neck now dangling from his fingertips, and fear struck her instantly.
“So for today, stop your tears. You’ll have plenty more reasons to cry later.”
She had no strength left to move. Even as his hand holding the tie loomed before her eyes, the best she could manage was to squeeze them shut tightly. His cold fingers touched her skin, pressing firmly against her throat—but contrary to her fears, nothing happened.
Vivian cautiously cracked open her eyes to assess the situation. His hand had withdrawn quietly, creating distance between their bodies. The air felt less suffocating, lighter. Fully opening her eyes, her vision cleared: Edwin, looking down at her with arrogant calm, spoke softly.
“What did I say earlier?”
Vivian slowly looked down at her neck. She couldn’t explain why the tie that belonged around Edwin’s neck was now draped around hers.
“Did I say you’d visit the dressmaker’s and bring me the gift I wanted?”
His warmth still lingered in the fabric of the tie. After nearly stealing her breath away, he now acted as if nothing had happened—the unsettling warmth of his calm presence sent chills down her spine.
“Now you understand, Miss Ebelline.”
Whether he wore his characteristic pure smile, a sneering expression, or some unfamiliar look altogether—she couldn’t tell. All she knew was his quiet whisper:
“The gift I want isn’t at the dressmaker’s. It’s only with you.”
Tears filled her eyes, blurring the man before her.
[This is the timeline separator]Theo silently watched the unfinished dress hanging on the dress form. Dissatisfied with something, he circled it repeatedly, deep in thought.
Would gold thread work better here? It would suit golden hair more, wouldn’t it? Should I replace the shoulders with tulle? What if I layer the fabric like this?
Lost in contemplation, Theo only looked up at the clock when time had slipped away unnoticed. Realizing the dress’s owner would arrive soon, he left the workshop and firmly closed the door. Then, driven by the vow to let not a single speck of dust settle in the shop, he began meticulously dusting every corner.
Today was the day Vivian was supposed to come. Since the mansion now belonged to someone else, he couldn’t go to her—so this was the only chance to meet, when she came for the embroidery.
“With the rain, she might be late. Maybe I should go out and check? The road isn’t rough, but still…”
Theo scanned the shop once more. Spotting a single white speck of dust on the cherry-colored table, he picked it up and tossed it out the window. Just then, he noticed a carriage halted across from the shop.
He recognized the Beitnes family crest on it. Certain Vivian was inside, Theo dashed out of the shop.
Yet the carriage stood motionless in the rain, with no sign of movement. The drawn curtains blocked any view inside, though he glimpsed a servant’s feet stepping down before quickly retreating.
“Why isn’t anyone getting out?”
Just as Theo, growing impatient, stepped toward the porch, the carriage wheels finally turned. Behind the departing carriage, Vivian appeared beneath an umbrella. Theo leapt into the rain, his face full of joy, excitement, and worry.
“Miss!”
As he drew closer, Vivian’s dazed expression became clear—and unease overwhelmed him.
“…Miss?”
Worse still, the strange sight of a man’s scarf around her neck poured oil onto his simmering emotions.
“Did something happen? Were you with Duke Beitnes?”
His eyes, which had followed the retreating Beitnes carriage, now returned to Vivian, who seemed utterly vacant. Even knowing she stood utterly defenseless, he couldn’t imagine mere servants reducing Vivian to such a state.
That left only one person.
Only Duke Beitnes could have left her in such disarray.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, tear tracks stained her clear cheeks, her lips were swollen, and the small hand gripping the umbrella trembled faintly. Even her golden hair—far too disheveled for mere weather—only confirmed his suspicion.
The public held Duke Beitnes in incredibly high regard. They adored his noble, pure image and hailed him as Newway’s hope.
But I don’t believe any of that reputation.
From their first meeting, Theo had sensed something impure in the Duke’s intent to send him away. Ever since, he’d been deeply uneasy about Vivian living alone in that mansion.
“…Let’s go inside first. I’ll brew some warm tea. Can you walk?”
Quietly, Theo supported Vivian in her distress. Her shoes, leaning heavily on him, dragged limply across the floor.
[This is the timeline separator]‘Father… I actually spared the youngest son of House Lavenge.’
Fourteen years ago, she’d wordlessly ordered the coachman to flee far away—so her father had scolded her severely. Knowing she’d surely receive worse punishment, yet facing her father’s anger for the first time, she’d confessed everything. The dejected girl could only wait tearfully for stern discipline from her once-kind father.
But instead of harsh punishment, her father wordlessly pulled her into an embrace.
His unexpected reaction released her tension—and tears flowed for no reason. Silently, he held tightly to the girl sobbing bitterly in his arms. She thought she heard a faint sniffle—but assumed it was just her own loud weeping.
“Are you cold?”
Theo returned to the parlor with hot tea and sat across from her. She stared blankly at the steaming cup, nodding absently up and down.
“Did Duke Beitnes lay hands on you, Miss?”
Theo never beat around the bush. Though the truth lay plain, Vivian could only shake her head.
“Miss.”
“…”
“I’ll always be on your side. Even if you don’t consider me your ally, I’ll always stand with you. So please, tell me. Only then can I protect you.”
Though she knew her lie would be found out, she told it out of consideration—but a weakened voice whispered in her ear:
Theo. Only with Theo. Because it’s Theo.
Her swollen lips hesitated, then finally parted as if making up her mind. Had it not been for the chime ringing through the shop at that moment, she might have spilled everything.
“…Just a moment. Please stay here, Miss. I’ll be right back.”
After hesitating briefly, Theo left the parlor, reassuring her several times that he’d return soon.
Alone, clarity returned. Theo Evans—kind and deeply loyal—would repay any debt to the Duke even at the cost of all he owned, once he heard her story. And she’d nearly confessed everything: how, fourteen years ago, the Duke had used an old debt as leverage to bind her, and that his true aim was to kill her.
What a selfish, hypocritical person I am.
Ashamed, Vivian rose abruptly and approached the mirror on the wall. With trembling hands that wouldn’t still, she untied Edwin’s ascot from her neck.
The faint bruise now visible was the mark left by Sayer Raven. She recalled how he’d undone his own tie to cover her injury. A fresh wave of pain surged—vague yet more suffocating than even when the Duke had choked her.
To erase this inexplicable emotion, she rewrapped the ascot tightly around her neck, perfectly hiding the mark.
She decided then to postpone selling the finished embroidery—knowing she’d become even more vulnerable. She feared what she’d look like after spilling everything to Theo, and couldn’t bear the thought of his contempt.
Turning on her heel, Vivian left the parlor—only to meet Theo’s eyes as he attended to a customer. She also recognized the visitor’s familiar face, momentarily forgetting her pain and smiling warmly.
“Mrs. Monty?”
“Oh my, Miss!”
“What a pleasant surprise to meet you here! How have you been? Natalie must have grown so much by now?”
Clenching her fists tightly to maintain her gentle smile, her palms ached from nails digging deep.
“Of course! All thanks to you, Mr. Ebelline. Is there still no word from him? Everyone in the village anxiously awaits any news of Mr. Ebelline.”
“I’m so sorry to worry you, ma’am.”
“Oh, don’t apologize! It pains us that we couldn’t help. But what brings you here today? Ah—you’ve come to sell embroidery! Theo, have you told the Miss? The embroidery she makes is incredibly popular!”
Mrs. Monty quickly changed the subject to avoid distressing Vivian further. As Theo gave an awkward smile and handled Mrs. Monty, Vivian signaled him she’d leave first—but Theo pleaded silently with his eyes for her to stay. Ignoring his efforts, Vivian waited for the right moment to slip away.
“People are lining up to buy them lately—it’s been nonstop at the shop… Wait, what’s this? Isn’t this a man’s?”
Mrs. Monty leaned forward to examine what hung around Vivian’s neck. Vivian’s heart dropped; she twisted her body, hiding the tie in her palm.
Why did I do that?
Why did I try to hide his ascot?
Was it fear that the uncomfortable truth about the Duke—beloved by Newway’s citizens—might be exposed? Or shame that the noble only daughter of a fallen aristocrat had been choked so ignobly?
No.
It was because she feared reliving the disgrace of that incident fourteen years ago—the one where her father had annihilated an entire noble house.
After House Lavenge vanished into history that year, House Ebelline hadn’t walked an easy path either. The people condemned them: “Their methods were vile and cruel,” “Was such extreme violence necessary?” “It was overkill—nothing short of massacre.”
What a selfish, hypocritical person I am.
In this moment, recalling her father’s honor led her to judge herself exactly so.
“I thought I might catch a cold… and had nothing else to wrap around my neck, so I grabbed this in haste. Something urgent just came to mind—I should head back now. Please stay and rest as long as you like, ma’am.”
Her carefully hidden expression had unraveled completely. Vivian hurriedly ended the conversation and left. Though she felt Theo trying to follow, she never looked back.
When yandere male lead believes she loves him — but she never did
“How dare you!”
“How dare you make me love you, only to cast me aside as nothing more than a friend?!?
“I will never accept that.”
“I will never let you return to him.”
“Even if I have to burn myself to ashes.”
“Even if I must shatter my purity, my dignity, my very soul.”
“I will never let you escape me!”
This was the first novel that introduced me to the matriarchal genre. I’ve read it three times already!
At first, the male lead despised the female lead. Later, he misunderstood that she liked him, so he condescendingly and reluctantly reciprocated her feelings.
Then, he suddenly discovered that she was kind to everyone in the same way, and there was already someone she cherished in her heart, and that person was not him.
The male lead couldn’t believe it, he became angry and crazy. He was determined to capture her body and heart by any means necessary.
Synopsis:
Want to see how a green tea bitch male lead falls in love with the female lead?
Want to see how he flirtatiously pursues the female lead?
Want to see how he gets slapped in the face repeatedly?
The male lead is a green tea bitch, a poisonous lotus, jealous, ruthless, unscrupulous, with a venomous heart, and he’s also a delusional maniac.
The female lead is righteous, positive energy-filled, kind, a holy mother.
Let’s see how two people with extreme personalities come together~
_____
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Blairwoods
“He would die at the hands of the man he’d once spared, without ever finding his missing father or seeing his mother again, who’d promised to return.
+
He surrendered his body to fading consciousness.”
It’s “She” in this part, not he.