Chapter 214: Chapter 214

Beauchamp continued his story, his voice steady despite the weight of what he was revealing. "I took advantage of the silence and darkness to slip out of the house unseen. The usher who’d let me in was waiting by the door. He led me through the back corridors to a private entrance on Rue de Vaugirard."

He paused, meeting Albert’s desperate gaze. "I left with mixed feelings, my friend. Sorrow for you, but also... admiration. For that noble young woman pursuing justice for her father. Whatever enemy struck this blow against you, Albert, they’re just a tool of fate."

Albert buried his face in his hands. When he looked up, his eyes were red and wet with tears, his face flushed with shame. He grabbed Beauchamp’s arm with trembling fingers.

"My life is over," he said, his voice breaking. "I can’t just accept this as fate like you can. I need to find out who’s doing this to me. When I do, one of us will die. I’m counting on your friendship to help me, assuming you don’t despise me now."

"Despise you?" Beauchamp shook his head firmly. "This isn’t your fault, Albert. You’re not responsible for your father’s actions, society has moved past that kind of thinking. Your life has been pure until now. You’re young, you’re wealthy. Leave Paris for a while. This city moves so fast, people forget everything. Come back in three or four years with some beautiful foreign bride, and no one will even remember yesterday’s scandal."

"Thank you for trying to help," Albert said quietly. "But I can’t do that. I’ve told you what I need to do. You see this differently than I do. What looks like divine justice to you looks like human malice to me. I’m not dealing with some invisible force, I’m dealing with a real person. Someone I can find. Someone I can make pay for what I’ve suffered this past month."

He straightened, his jaw set. "I need to come back to reality, Beauchamp. If you’re really my friend, help me find who did this."

"All right," Beauchamp agreed. "I’m with you. If you need to find your enemy, I’ll help you track them down. My honor is almost as invested in this as yours."

"Good. Then we start looking immediately. Every moment we wait feels like forever. Whoever spread these lies is still out there, thinking they’re safe. But I swear on my honor, they’re wrong about that."

"You already know something!" Albert’s eyes lit up with desperate hope. "Tell me. Please."

"I’m not saying this is definitely true," Beauchamp warned. "But it might be a lead. We can follow it and see where it goes."

"Remember what I didn’t want to mention when I got back from Yanina? Well, of course I went to the main banker there to ask questions. Before I even mentioned your father’s name, he said, ’I think I know why you’re here.’"

Albert leaned forward. "And?"

"’Someone else asked about this two weeks ago,’" Beauchamp continued. "’A banker from Paris, one of my business contacts.’ When I asked who, he said: ’Danglars.’"

"Him!" Albert shot to his feet. "Of course it’s him! He’s always hated my father. He can’t stand that Father was made a peer. And this engagement being broken off with no explanation, it all makes sense now!"

"Investigate first," Beauchamp cautioned. "Don’t let anger cloud your judgment. If it’s true, then-"

"If it’s true," Albert’s voice dropped to something cold and dangerous, "he’ll pay for everything I’ve suffered."

"Be careful, Albert. He’s an old man."

"I’ll show his age the same respect he showed my family’s honor. If my father wronged him, why didn’t he confront him directly? No, he was too afraid to face him man to man."

"I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying be smart about this."

"Don’t worry. Besides, you’ll be there as my witness. Come on, if Danglars is guilty, this ends today. One of us won’t walk away. God, what a funeral I’ll have!"

"If you’re that determined, let’s not waste time," Beauchamp said, standing. "Should we go now?"

They called for a cab. When they arrived at Danglars’ mansion, they spotted another carriage already there, it belonged to Andrea Cavalcanti.

"Perfect," Albert said darkly. "If Danglars won’t fight me, I’ll kill his future son-in-law instead. Cavalcanti will definitely accept a challenge."

A servant announced them, but Danglars, remembering yesterday’s drama, ordered them turned away. Too late, Albert had already pushed past the footman and burst into Danglars’ study with Beauchamp right behind him.

"Sir!" Danglars sputtered. "Am I not free to choose who enters my own house? You’re way out of line here!"

"There are circumstances," Albert said coldly, not even glancing at Cavalcanti who stood by the fireplace, "where refusing to see certain people is pure cowardice. I’ll give you that excuse if you want it."

"What do you want from me?"

Albert stepped closer. "I want to propose a meeting. Somewhere private where we won’t be interrupted for ten minutes. That’s all the time it takes when two men meet and only one walks away."

Danglars went pale. Cavalcanti took a step forward. Albert turned to face him.

"You too, if you want," he said. "You’re almost family now, after all. I’ll duel as many people as are willing."

Cavalcanti looked at Danglars in confusion. Danglars, rallying himself, stepped between the two young men. Albert’s aggression toward Andrea had changed things, maybe this visit wasn’t about what he’d thought.

"If you’re here to fight this gentleman because I preferred him over you," Danglars said carefully, "I’ll have to involve the authorities."

"You misunderstand," Albert replied with a grim smile. "I don’t care about the engagement. I only mentioned Cavalcanti because he seemed ready to interfere. You have first claim on my anger, Monsieur Danglars. But I’m ready to fight everyone today."

Danglars’ face went white with fear and rage. "I’m warning you, when I meet a rabid dog, I put it down. I don’t feel guilty; I consider it a public service. If you’re mad and try to bite me, I’ll kill you without hesitation. Is it my fault your father disgraced himself?"

"Yes, you miserable bastard!" Albert shouted. "It IS your fault!"

Danglars backed up a few steps. "My fault? Are you insane? What do I know about what happened in Greece? Did I travel there? Did I tell your father to sell out the castle of Yanina, to betray-"

"Shut up!" Albert’s voice was like thunder. "No, you didn’t directly expose him. But you manipulated this whole thing. You set it in motion."

"Yes, you! How else would anyone know?"

"I assume people read it in the newspaper, the report from Yanina?"

"Who wrote to Yanina asking for information?"

"Yes. Who wrote asking about my father’s past?"

"Anyone could have written to Yanina-"

"But only one person did!"

"Yes. And it was you!"

"Well, of course I wrote," Danglars said defensively. "When you’re about to marry your daughter to a young man, it’s not just your right to investigate his family, it’s your duty!"

"You wrote knowing exactly what answer you’d get."

"Me? I swear to you," Danglars said, and his confidence seemed genuine, "I never would have thought to write to Yanina if I’d known about Ali Pasha’s misfortunes."

"Then who told you to write? Tell me!"

"It was the most natural thing in the world! I was discussing your father’s background with someone. I mentioned that the source of his fortune was unclear. The person I was talking to asked where your father had made his money. I said Greece. And he said, ’Then write to Yanina.’"

"Your friend. The Count of Monte Cristo."

Albert froze. "Monte Cristo told you to write to Yanina?"

"Yes. And I still have the correspondence if you want to see it."

Albert and Beauchamp exchanged glances.

"Sir," Beauchamp spoke up, "you’re accusing the Count, who isn’t in Paris right now to defend himself." Read complete versıon only at novel⟡fire.net

"I’m not accusing anyone," Danglars said quickly. "I’m just stating facts. I’ll repeat everything I’ve said to the Count’s face."

"Does he know what the response from Yanina said?"

"Did he know my father’s first name was Fernand? That his family name was Mondego?"

"Yes, I’d told him all that long before. Look, I only did what anyone would have done, probably less. When your father came asking for my daughter’s hand the day after that response arrived, I refused him. But I didn’t explain why or expose him publicly. Why should I have gotten more involved? How does your father’s honor or disgrace affect me? It doesn’t change my income either way."