Chapter 69: Resolve

The morning sunlight poured over the windowsill, the air still carrying the faint warmth of last night's intimacy. Alia leaned against the bedroom doorframe, watching Marcellus adjust his coat, preparing to leave. His handsome face remained as striking as ever, his eyes filled with the same deep affection, as if their closeness the night before had brought them even nearer.

"Will you be busy today?" Alia asked casually, her tone indifferent as though it was a routine inquiry. Yet only she knew the storm of emotions concealed within those words.

"Yes, there's still work to be done on the city expansion, and I need to keep collaborating with Edgar," Marcellus replied, stepping closer. He bent down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead, his gaze profound yet tinged with a faint tenderness. "Rest well and don't overthink. I'll try to come back more often."

Alia said nothing as she watched him turn and leave. She didn't call him back or say anything else. She stood there until his footsteps faded into the distance, then lowered her head and murmured softly, "Go ahead and take care of your business. I have my own matters to attend to."

When the servants and the butler were busy with their tasks, and the mansion fell into a brief silence, Alia discreetly slipped away, avoiding everyone's notice.

She headed to the study, her steps light and deliberate. The study was as pristine and solemn as always, with every piece of furniture reflecting its owner's taste and discipline. Her gaze swept over the familiar bookshelves and decor before finally resting on the hidden mechanism she knew so well.

Her heart quickened slightly, as though the answers she sought were concealed within.

She hesitated, uncertain whether she should open it again. After a moment of internal struggle, she made her decision.

Alia reached out, her fingers deftly activating the mechanism. The hidden box slid open, revealing the diary lying inside, untouched as if no one had ever disturbed it. But her eyes were drawn to a detail—a hair that had been tucked into the gap as a marker was now missing.

Her heart sank abruptly.

That hair had been her marker, deliberately left in place and replaced daily to detect any tampering. Its absence could mean only one thing: someone had opened the box, and last night, only Marcellus had entered the study.

She picked up the diary, flipping through its familiar handwriting. Each word and line mirrored Marcellus's hand precisely. Though she had long suspected this outcome and mentally prepared herself, the final confirmation shattered the last remnants of hope in her heart.

"So it really is his diary…"

This revelation confirmed that everything—the plans, the schemes, and the painful memories etched into the pages—originated from him. Once, she had entertained the possibility of a setup, blaming Elias or someone else for planting the diary here. But now, self-deception was no longer an option.

"He knew everything. He orchestrated everything. Yet he can still look at me with such gentle eyes. And last night… he was so intimate with me." Alia chuckled bitterly. "Of course. What man could resist the allure of Livia's body?"

The truth was a blade, cutting into her soul and unearthing the buried pain and memories of her body.

A profound sadness and simmering hatred churned within her, making it hard to breathe. She clutched her chest, feeling as though the weight of the truth was devouring the last warmth within her.

It didn't matter to her if Marcellus had used "Livia." But if he didn't even love "Livia," how could he ever truly love her? Everything about him was a lie—a carefully constructed trap.

In her past life, she had never been loved. In this life, she thought she had finally tasted the sweetness of love, only to find it was another cruel deception. Her love, hopes, and dreams had all turned to cold ashes.

Alia carefully placed the diary back into the box, ensuring everything was as it had been. Closing the box, she slowly raised her head, her gaze icy and resolute.

"Marcellus, you are indeed the man who pulled the trigger that day," she murmured, her voice carrying an endless chill.

At last, she understood. No matter how hard she tried, no matter what she did to change things, this story could never have a happy ending.

"I am not Livia, nor do I want to be her. I am Alia. My goal is not to avenge anyone or sacrifice myself for anyone. I will uncover all the answers and then leave this place."

In that moment, all the love and hatred in her heart seemed to be drained away. What replaced them was a cold, unshakable resolve.

She no longer yearned for Marcellus's love, nor would she dwell on the past. What she needed to do was seek the truth, bring this chapter to an end, and start a new life of her own.

Turning away from the study, Alia walked with firm steps. Her figure was as dark as the night, yet it radiated an unyielding strength that nothing could diminish.