The Obsessive Male Lead Is Actually Scary
Chapter 46: Red Ears, Red Flags

Chapter 46: Red Ears, Red Flags

Knock, knock.

The sound came from my door and shattered the awkward silence hanging thick in the air between us.

"I’ve brought your dinner, miss," came a gentle voice, likely one of the inn staff.

Dinner. Right. Of course.

The sun had already set by the time I returned to the inn with the children.

"Y-yes, coming," I replied with a flustered stutter, rushing to the door with my cheeks still carrying the warmth from earlier.

As soon as I opened it, the staff member’s eyes swept over my flushed face, then over my shoulder, where Alessio sat calmly on the bed behind me.

She blinked. Then smiled. And then, with a hand politely covering her mouth, she let out a small laugh that screamed Ohhhh, I see~.

’What’s with that face?! That’s not what you think, I swear!’

I stood there frozen, mouth twitching and eyes wide in panic. My hand half-rose in protest as if that alone could erase the misunderstanding from her head.

"Oh, where are my manners. My lord," she turned to Alessio, her voice now teasingly respectful, "would you like your dinner served here instead?"

I glanced at him. He let out a breath, subtle but clear.

"Yes."

She stepped into the room with a gentle bow, walked over to the table, and placed down two covered trays. The smell of warm stew and spiced meat pies wafted in immediately, reminding me that, oh right... hunger was a thing.

"Well then, please enjoy your evening," she added sweetly, and even giggled softly as she backed out of the room, casting one last mischievous look before the door clicked shut.

I swear I heard her footsteps dancing.

’Alright ma’am, that’s enough misinterpretation, thank you very much!’ I wailed inwardly, waving my hand helplessly at the now-closed door like that would undo her assumptions.

Alessio, now seated in the chair, cleared his throat.

"Ahem... so, what exactly happened?" His voice was calm, but his ears were still noticeably red.

"Uh, didn’t you hear the full story from Khan?"

He shook his head, a small frown forming. "No. I rushed over the moment I heard about it and cut off the call before he finished."

So I told him everything.

The market. The kidnapping. The chase. The courtyard fight.

Alessio didn’t interrupt, didn’t flinch. He just listened. His eyes didn’t leave me once, like he was committing every word to memory.

"I see... I’m sorry."

My eyebrows jumped. "Huh? Why are you apologizing?"

His expression clouded with guilt. "It’s my fault this even happened. I should’ve cleaned up everything, including Count Belmont’s lackeys. I let this slip through."

"Please don’t say that!" I said quickly, waving both hands. "Neither of us could’ve predicted this! Oh, and what about the Count? Did you get anything from him?"

"It’s going well," he nodded. "We’ve secured the documents and ledgers he was carrying. Some nobles from the Empire are listed in them. We’re still searching for any direct link to Marius."

"I see..."

Then, from the depths of betrayal and dark conspiracies, came a noise.

Grrrrrrgle.

My stomach.

At the worst possible moment.

’Why, stomach, why must you always betray me in his presence of all people?!’

My face went red all over again.

Alessio blinked... and then let out a soft laugh.

"Pfft. Shall we eat now?"

I nodded, sheepish. "Y-yeah..."

His smile lingered as he pulled the tray closer, and I tried very hard not to shrivel into a napkin from embarrassment.

* * *

Wittelsbach Estate. Two weeks ago.

Step. Step.

"You’ve been sneaking around my estate like a rat these past few days."

The man stopped walking. His polished boots clicked one final time against the cold marble floor as he lowered his gaze.

It was Marius.

He stood tall, his figure casting a long shadow beneath the amber glow of the sconces. His eyes, icy and unblinking, bore down on the man kneeling before him.

Rope bound the man’s wrists behind his back, cutting red marks into the skin. His knees pressed into the stone floor, unmoving despite the pressure and the cold.

"Who sent you?" Marius asked. "What are you looking for?"

His voice was soft but carried a bone-deep chill. It was the kind of voice that made lesser men shiver, not from volume, but from the weight behind it.

The man didn’t answer immediately. His bruised face lifted slightly, revealing a pair of deep blue eyes—bloodshot, tired, but full of resolve. His graying black hair clung to his forehead, matted with sweat and dirt. Mid-forties, maybe fifties. A man used to labor, but not to pain.

"Where is Lady Sonia?" he demanded, voice hoarse but sharp. "I know you’re behind the Marquess and Marchioness’s strange behavior. They’re not themselves!"

Marius blinked. Just once.

Then a flicker of recognition passed through his gaze.

"...Ah," he said, letting the sound draw out with mock delight. "Aren’t you the one who serves the Mitfords? Their faithful little aide, isn’t that right?"

He tilted his head, smiling faintly. Not kindly. No, it was a predator’s smile, one that didn’t reach the eyes.

"Benjamin, was it?"

The man’s jaw tightened.

Benjamin Ivanov.

A loyal servant of House Mitford. He had served the Marquess for over twenty years, starting long before Sonia was even born. He was the kind of man who never left his post, never stopped watching over the estate and its people. Not out of duty, but devotion.

"Return Lady Sonia to the Marquisate!" Benjamin growled, his eyes blazing. "You have no right to keep her from her family!"

Marius’s expression shifted.

From amusement... to irritation.

"If I could bring her back right now, I would," he muttered through clenched teeth. "But I won’t hand her over to you."

Benjamin flinched. "What are you talking about..."

"Someone took her from me." Marius’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less intense. "She disappeared."

He began pacing.

"She was right there. Everything was ready. She belonged with me. And then, someone stole her. Someone snatched her away in the dark while I was planning everything for us."

His pacing quickened. One hand raked through his hair, pulling it back from his face. He looked nothing like the man who used to visit the Marquisate—no clean-cut noble garments, no composed posture. His cloak was half-hanging off his shoulder, shirt wrinkled, his collar undone. He hadn’t shaved in days. There was an edge to him now, something fevered. Obsession clung to him like the scent of burning leaves.

"I searched every district," he muttered. "Every last alley, every stinking little border town. No trace. Nothing."

Benjamin stared at him in stunned silence.

"...I see. So she left you," he said. "She ran from you."

"Don’t—" Marius snapped, whipping around to face him, his eyes glinting with something fierce and dangerous. "Don’t say that."

Benjamin’s breath caught in his throat. That expression... it wasn’t sane.

Marius pressed a hand to his temple, fingers digging into his skin as if he could crush the storm raging inside his head. He held it there for a long moment before turning his gaze back to Benjamin. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. Too quiet.

"She was confused. That’s all it was. She needed time. But I’ll fix it. I can fix it."

"Duke Marius—"

"I’ll kill the bastard who took her from me!" he shouted suddenly, his voice echoing across the stone walls. "I don’t care who it is. I’ll burn them down to ash."

He was huffing now. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath. His hands trembled at his sides, not from fear, but from something deeper. Madness. Rage. A storm he could no longer contain.

Benjamin couldn’t speak.

This wasn’t the composed nobleman he’d once served tea to in the Mitford drawing room, the man who spoke softly and measured every word with care. That version of him no longer existed.

What stood before him now was something entirely different. A figure unraveling, piece by piece, driven solely by the fire of his own obsession.

’He’s completely lost his mind.’

Marius inhaled through his nose, slowly and deeply, as if each breath might anchor him to the ground and keep the fury from rising any further. He held it for a moment, his jaw tight, his eyes unfocused.

Then he exhaled just as slowly, the breath hissing past his teeth like steam from a boiling pot. When he finally spoke, his voice had dropped to a murmur, quiet but no less intense.

"She’s not in the empire. I’ve confirmed it."

He turned his back on Benjamin, walking toward the window. Outside, the sky was gray, the clouds heavy with the hush of something waiting to happen.

"I’m going abroad soon."

He placed a hand against the cold glass.

"And I won’t return until I find her and bring her back."

He paused.

"Then I’ll lock her away... more carefully," he murmured.

"You’re mad!" Benjamin spat.

He cast a sharp glance at the middle-aged man still kneeling on the floor, calm and unyielding.

"Get him out of here," he ordered. "Throw him into the dungeon."