The Male Leads Are Trapped in My House

Ethan pressed the sole of his boot down firmly on the man’s palm.

“Aaagh!”

“You’re going to the Benton Police Department either way. But if you cooperate here, I can guarantee there won’t be any torture.”

He promised no torture—but he never said anything about avoiding violence during questioning.

The man groaned in pain, struggling with indecision. Ethan remained calm, patiently waiting for him to talk.

Finally, the man opened his mouth.

“I-I only heard that Cherry Sinclair left for Brunel today. That’s all I know, I swear!”

‘She left today? Just missed her.’

But that was fine. He’d go after her himself.

“Where’s Brunel?”

“I-I don’t know. Just that it’s a small village without a train station….”

Even after more threats and pressure, Ethan couldn’t extract any further information. It really seemed like the man didn’t know anything else.

Reluctantly, Ethan turned the man over to the police and began preparing to leave for Brunel himself.

‘Why would someone like Cherry Sinclair—who’s completely out of place in a rural village without even a train station—go there? Suspicious.’

Lately, Ethan’s mind had been consumed by too many questions:

The monster at 61 Notium Street.
The owner of the C. S. brooch.
The smuggled firearms.
And Cherry Sinclair.

Of all these threads, Cherry’s recent actions stood out the most. They were too suspicious to ignore.

At the time, Ethan had no idea just how deeply Cherry Sinclair was entangled in everything he was investigating.

For now, though, his instincts told him he needed to confront her in person.

If the missing Sinclair heiress really had placed a massive order for firearms, wasn’t it only natural to wonder why?

Extremely natural.

*****

19 Days Until the End.

The Only Restaurant in Brunel.

Seated on the terrace, I unfolded a newspaper that had been delivered from a neighboring village. (Apparently, the people of Brunel didn’t read newspapers much. I liked that about this place.)

[Exclusive Report! Cherry Sinclair, Heiress, Takes Out a 100-Million Gold Loan for an Overseas Venture! What Is This Mysterious Business…?]

As expected, there I was, plastered all over the headlines again.

Everyone was desperate to figure out why I’d taken out such a massive loan.

[Exclusive Report! The Missing Cherry Sinclair! Where Is She Now…? Fleeing or Missing—Authorities Investigate.]

‘Hmph. It’s more of an escape than a disappearance.’

The newspapers, clearly bored by my recent absence from parties, had found their new gossip topic. Well, they wouldn’t be having fun much longer.

Once the world ended, they wouldn’t have the luxury of waving their pens around.

What worried me more was the inevitable nagging from Harrison when he found out about the loan. I folded the paper and sipped my coffee, glancing outside.

I was supposed to be looking for Vanilla, but instead, my eyes caught something else—a man in a police uniform.

He was standing in front of the Brunel police station, talking to an older officer.

He turned slightly, and the first thing that hit me was his golden-blond hair, gleaming like spun gold.

Then his icy blue eyes—cold, like a winter lake. A sharp nose, crimson lips, and the stiff collar of his uniform pressing against his neck.

He wore his navy-blue police uniform like it was custom-tailored, effortlessly striking.

‘Holy crap. He’s hot. Totally my type…’

But his face wasn’t unfamiliar. That was strange.

And then it clicked—the police officer I’d seen in front of the mansion at 61 Notium Street.

Ethan Duncan Lancaster. Aurora’s brother.

‘Why the hell is he here?!’

I remembered how he kept calling the Sinclair estate. Had he figured out that the person who killed the monster was me?

‘So that bad feeling I had yesterday wasn’t for nothing!’

I instinctively ducked my head, frantically trying to figure out why Ethan was in Brunel.

And then I saw him walking toward me.

Straight toward the restaurant.

And straight toward my table.

“Excuse me.”

“Y-Yes?”

I stammered like an idiot, completely caught off guard. Ethan looked at me and smiled faintly.

“There aren’t any open seats. Mind if I join you?”

Snapping out of my daze, I hurriedly nodded.

“Uh, sure. Go ahead…”

I glanced around, wondering how the restaurant had filled up so quickly.

But when I looked again, the place was still empty—just as it had been when I first arrived.

‘What the hell? Is this some kind of hidden camera prank? Or am I hallucinating?’

Since I’d already agreed, there was no backing out now. I let out a quiet sigh.

‘Get it together, Cherry.’

Ethan plopped into the seat across from me, crossed his legs lazily, and flashed another unsettling smile.

“I’ve been hoping to meet you. Didn’t expect to find you in a place like this.”

He ordered an espresso and stared straight at me.

“Do I know you?”

“Cherry Sinclair, right? You’re pretty famous. I don’t think there’s a day your name isn’t in the papers.”

Brunel’s residents barely read newspapers, so no one here had recognized me so far. And it wasn’t like my picture was on the front page every time.

“...Well, I suppose I am a bit famous.”

If this guy started spreading word about me, it was going to be a huge hassle.

‘Should I leave for another town already?’

But there wasn’t enough time left for that.

Ethan extended his hand suddenly, introducing himself.

“I forgot to introduce myself, Lady Sinclair. Ethan Duncan Lancaster, Benton Police Department.”

Oh, I knew exactly who he was.

Ethan Lancaster—the relentless investigator who never let go once he sank his teeth into something.

Rumor had it no criminal he targeted in Benton had ever escaped unscathed. That’s how he’d earned the nickname ‘Benton’s Mad Dog.’

Was that same tenacity about to be aimed at me?

Had he already figured out the brooch belonged to me?

“Oh my! Ethan Duncan Lancaster? The one from the papers? What a coincidence.”

I did my best to sound nonchalant, placing my hand in his for a handshake.

I half-expected him to kiss the back of my hand, but instead, he just shook it firmly.

I blinked in surprise, but Ethan didn’t seem to notice—or care.

The truth was, he wasn’t exactly the nicest guy. Even in the original novel, his temper was so bad that people disliked him despite his heroic deeds.@@novelbin@@

“What brings someone as famous as you to a place like this?”

“I hardly compare to Lady Sinclair. But I’m more curious—what brings you to such a remote village?”

Ethan smoothly flipped the question back to me. My brain scrambled for an excuse.

“I’m looking for a vacation home.”

It sounded ridiculous even to me, and Ethan’s raised eyebrow confirmed it. He shot me an incredulous look.

“Well, then. I guess it’s only fair you explain why you’re here.”

“I was reassigned.”

“Wait, reassigned? To this village?”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. It was too absurd to be true.

“You’re from the Lancaster family. Aren’t you supposed to be on the fast track to police chief? Why would they send you to the middle of nowhere? Are they crazy?”

If this was true, then I might be stuck here with him until the end of the world.

‘This wasn’t in the novel!’

In the original story, Ethan was supposed to stay with Aurora in the capital until the apocalypse hit, helping her create the cure.

‘Is this because I messed with the timeline?’

If so, it was my responsibility to send him back—or protect him until the scientist lead, Ezra, appeared.

‘Wait, protect Ethan Lancaster? Have you lost your mind, Cherry? No way in hell.’

I slapped my cheeks to snap out of it. Ethan’s eyes widened.

“You seem a bit startled.”

Embarrassed, I coughed and forced a reply.

“Anyway, this is strange. Why are you really here?”

“Not stranger than you being here to buy a vacation home.”

He had a point, and I had no good rebuttal.

Ethan leaned back, his sharp gaze fixed on me.

“I’m patient, Lady Sinclair. I don’t mind waiting.”

There was something unsettling about his tone.

‘Damn it. Everything he says feels loaded.’

I tried to calm my nerves, reminding myself that he’d have to return to the capital eventually. Aurora was still there.

Just as I was about to relax, someone approached our table.

“Excuse me. Are you the one buying the mansion on the hill?”**