“What do you think?” he asked.
“…About what?”
“Revenge.
Is it acceptable to commit patricide for the sake of vengeance?”
“…I suppose that depends on the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
Johanna was baffled.
Why was he asking her this?
She fumbled for words before answering in a strained voice.
“The king murdered Eucles’s mother.
I believe he got what he deserved, even if it meant paying with his life.”
“Even at the hands of his own son?”
“In primitive societies, patricide was not considered an ethical transgression.”
To her surprise, Ilian Redis threw his head back and laughed, a loud, booming sound.
He even clutched his stomach as if it were the funniest thing he had ever heard.
Having been openly mocked for simply answering his question, Johanna scowled, not bothering to hide her displeasure.
“It is just amusing,” he said, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.
“Hearing such a thing from a proper young lady who looks as though she would follow the law to the letter.”
Johanna said nothing.
A proper young lady?
She had been told she looked demure but had a hidden temper, but never that.
What on earth was his image of her?
“Well, enough small talk,” he said, his voice still laced with amusement.
“Have you considered my proposal?”
Johanna’s expression hardened.
He was still thinking about his offer for her to work in a brothel.
The fragile ease she had felt during their conversation vanished, and she sheathed her heart in steel once more.
Before answering, she pulled the thick envelope from her bag and held it out to him.
“This is half the principal, all the overdue interest, and eight months of future interest.”
Ilian stared at her, his amusement gone, replaced by a silent intensity.
He took the envelope, pulled out the checks and bills, and began to count.
A moment later, a dry scoff escaped his lips.
Disbelief flickered in his slate-gray eyes.
“Where did you get all this?”
“Something came up.”
“Something?
What do you mean?
Ah… did you sell yourself to an Alpha?”
The casual, brutal insult made her flinch.
Her eyes snapped up to meet his, blazing with fury.
She may have taken a disreputable job, but it was a hundred times better than selling her body to countless strangers.
This might be a kind of hell, but it was not the bottomless pit.
And this man—the very architect of her misfortune—was the one who had pushed her into it.
She would not endure this kind of humiliation from him.
Johanna bit her trembling lip and spoke, her voice dangerously cold.
“Even if I were to sell my body, I would never sell it to you.
Or through you.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Slowly, his lips curled back from his teeth in an expression that was not a smile.
It was a savage threat, a predator baring its fangs.
“Johanna Lucerne.”
He purred her name, his tone as intimate as a lover’s whisper, but his eyes churned with a dark, unidentifiable emotion.
“It hurts my feelings when you say that without even giving it a try.”
A faint trail of his pheromones drifted from him, and Johanna shrank back as the scent brushed against her skin.
She took a step back, but he advanced two steps, closing the distance between them.
She stumbled backward until her shoulders hit the wall, his shadow falling over her.
His face, twisted into a murderous sneer, looked even more menacing in the backlight.
She was trapped.
Knowing it was useless, her hands fumbled against the cold marble, searching for an escape that was not there.
Above her, Eucles slew his father.
Before her, Ilian planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in.
“Who gave you the money,” he breathed, his voice a low growl.
“That is none of your business.”
“Fuck,” he snarled.
“Who gave it to you?” He slammed his fist into the wall beside her head.
He had not seemed to use much force, but the marble dented, sending shattered fragments raining to the floor.
His pheromones were growing stronger, more aggressive, and it was becoming difficult to breathe.
The man before her was as terrifying as a wolf in a dark forest, but Johanna fought to keep her voice steady.
“…My fiancé.”
“…What?”
It was a lie, but not an entirely baseless one.
Publicly, that was how their relationship was meant to be perceived.
Marquis Neuwitz’s aide had been clear: she was to be seen as a Cinderella who, by a stroke of luck, had captured the Marquis’s heart.
What she could never have predicted, however, was Ilian’s reaction.
“…Fiancé?” he repeated, his voice hollow.
He stared at her, but his eyes were vacant, as if he were looking straight through her.
The fury was gone, replaced by a profound, stunning shock, as if he had just been confronted with a truth he could never have imagined.
His reaction was so unexpected that Johanna could only stare, momentarily speechless.
When focus finally returned to his eyes, he glared at her with a look sharp enough to devour her whole.
“Since when do you have a fiancé?” he demanded.
“Things just… turned out that way,” she managed, her voice steadier than she felt.
“I suppose I’m not as unlucky as I thought.”
“Huh… Who is he?
This fiancé of yours.”
“His Excellency, Marquis Neuwitz.” She finally forced the name from her lips.
A sharp pang, perhaps guilt, lanced through her chest, and the unsteady rhythm of her heart began to pound in her ears.
Upon hearing the name, Ilian’s brow furrowed slightly.
He took a single step back, and only then did the crushing pressure on her lungs finally ease.
She drew a ragged breath, studying his face, and caught the strange, calculating look that crossed his features.
“Marquis Neuwitz, you say… Hmm…” His eyes narrowed, raking over her as if searching for a hidden truth.
Could he know something?
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
This man reigned over the city’s underbelly; he was bound to have a vast network of information.
“I thought you were just a naive little deer…”
Johanna said nothing.
“But you have a cunning streak, don’t you?”
A subtle smile touched his lips as he reached out and tapped her cheek.
He then put a few more steps between them, and the air cleared.
Whether he had consciously retracted his pheromones or not, it was suddenly much easier to breathe.
Johanna watched him, her gaze intent, trying to decipher the meaning hidden beneath his words.
He knows, doesn’t he?
The fact that Marquis Neuwitz was secretly searching for an Omega to bear his heir.
A hot flush crept up her neck.
She had put on a proud, dignified front, but in the end, she had entered into a sordid contract.
It may have been the lesser of two evils, but it was nothing to be proud of.
And the man before her was more than capable of unearthing her shameful secret.
“Why’d you go to him?” Ilian’s voice was deceptively light.
“I’m hurt.”
He beamed, and Johanna could read his intentions as clearly as if they were written on his face.
He was savoring her downfall with a cruel, almost demonic glee.
“I told you I’d buy you for a high price.
To think you just forgot all about it…” He strode forward again, closing the distance until he could lean down to her ear.
Johanna flinched away, but she couldn’t escape the words he whispered, each one designed to shatter her composure.
“Planning to carry another Alpha’s bastard?”
A sharp gasp escaped her.
Without thinking, Johanna shoved him, hard.
Not stopping there, she swung her arm, her palm connecting with his cheek in a sharp, ringing slap.
Smack!
The sound cracked through the quiet lobby.
Every head turned, including the receptionist’s.
Mouths fell open, and eyes widened in shock.
Stunned by her own impulsive act, Johanna froze like a statue, her hands clasped together as a tremor ran through her.
Ilian slowly turned his head back to face her, a faint, mocking smile spreading across his lips.
“Quite a sting you’ve got there, my dear future Marchioness.”
He murmured the words, not a trace of anger in his tone.
He simply stared at her, his eyes filled with a predatory mix of hunger and amusement that was far more terrifying than rage.
“…Poor Johanna Lucerne.
You’ll be thrown away when your use is up.”
She remained silent, unable to form a response.
“I’m so looking forward to seeing… just how broken you’ll be by then.” He brushed a strand of hair from her temple before stepping back again.
Johanna gritted her teeth, goosebumps prickling her skin where his fingers had grazed her.
Ilian pulled a stack of bills from the envelope and pressed them back into her hand.
“Come pay the interest every month.
Paying it all at once like this is a breach of contract.”
“What are you…”
“The last day of every month.
Got it?
Come here.”
This was nothing short of coercion.
The idea that she couldn’t pay eight months of interest at once and was now forced to meet him monthly was absurd.
But the moment she met the sharp darkness lurking in his eyes, her defiance crumbled.
She had neither the mental nor the physical strength left to argue.
All she wanted was to escape.
“Think you can pay back the other half of the debt in a year?” he mused.
“Fulfilling the demands of a man desperate for an heir won’t be an easy task.
Am I wrong?”
“…I can pay it back,” she said, her voice tight.
“Glad to hear it.
Oh, and speaking of which.” He added the words as if the thought had just occurred to him.
That twisting smile—a sight that was quickly becoming a source of trauma for her—slowly reappeared on his face.
“I heard your father boarded a cruise ship.
About four days ago.”
“…What?”
Johanna’s eyes widened at the words, which were beyond anything she imagined.