The day had been draining, but the exhibition had managed to restore a sliver of her spirit.
She wanted to hold on to the profound impression left by the sculpture, The Lovers Dragged to the Underworld, for as long as possible.
With a subtle shift in her posture, Johanna signaled her desire to leave.
To her relief, Leonid was cooperative.
He glanced down at her, raising a single eyebrow before turning his attention back to James Kestner.
“Unfortunately, we must be going,” he announced smoothly.
“My fiancée seems to want some time alone with me.
Isn’t that right, Johanna?”
Johanna.
The moment he spoke her given name, a privilege reserved for those who were close, her world tilted on its axis.
She fought to steady herself, but the violent trembling in her chest was impossible to quell.
As she stared up at him, speechless, he prompted her with a smile that was as sweet as poison.
“Hm?”
She knew it was a poisoned apple he offered, beautiful and deadly.
A single bite would be fatal.
But the temptation… it was exquisite.
“Yes… Leonid,” she breathed, the name feeling both foreign and sacred on her tongue, as if she had torn it from her very soul.
Is this right?
Shouldn’t I have called him Marquis?
A thousand frantic thoughts raced through her mind.
Her eyelids fluttered as she met his gaze.
The corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smirk quickly masked by a more natural smile.
“Alright, then.
Let us go.”
He gave Kestner one last dismissive look, then wrapped an arm around Johanna’s shoulders and guided her away.
Her back prickled under the weight of the stares that followed them.
She was certain Kestner would begin digging into her background immediately.
And he would not be the only one.
Others had been watching from a distance, their curiosity piqued.
Rumors were now inevitable.
The moment the opera house doors closed behind them, the charade ended.
Leonid practically shoved her into his carriage.
Though many eyes were still on them, only Johanna could feel the frigid, hostile tension that crackled in the air between them.
Once the door clicked shut, he shed his courteous facade like a snake sheds its skin.
He released her abruptly, settling onto the opposite seat.
He crossed his legs and unwrapped a new lollipop.
Johanna could only stare at the yellow one still clutched in her hand.
The carriage pulled away, and the space filled with a heavy silence.
A thick, invisible wall had risen between them, making his earlier pretense of friendliness feel like a fever dream.
But more than bitterness, she felt a profound emptiness, a hollow ache in her chest.
She was subconsciously lifting the candy to her lips when his voice, cold and sharp as an arrow, flew at her.
“You need to work on your acting, Miss Lucerne.
If you remain that stiff, no one will believe we are to be married.
We will be exposed in no time if you do not get it together.”
His eyes held nothing but annoyance, contempt, and irritation—not a single flicker of warmth.
She already knew he disliked her, so this should not have hurt.
Yet a sharp, familiar ache pierced her heart, like the prick of a thorn.
She unconsciously rubbed her sternum as she replied.
“I suppose I am still not used to it.
I shall do my best to become more convincing…”
“Your speech is too formal.
Fix that first.”
“Okay.
I will make a conscious effort to… I will fix it.”
“And your form of address.
In front of others, use my given name.
It is more natural.”
When she nodded silently, he shot her a disapproving glare before turning to stare out the window.
Johanna fidgeted, constantly stealing glances at him.
She felt as though she were sitting on pins and needles.
“I heard your father boarded a cruise ship,” he stated flatly.
“That is…” She bit back the reflexive question of how he knew.
This was Marquis Neuwitz.
With his vast network, it would be more surprising if he did not know.
She gnawed on her lip as another sharp question came.
“Were you aware?
Did you hear from him?”
“Not from my father, no.
I heard from… an acquaintance.”
“An acquaintance?”
Being interrogated by an Extreme Dominant Alpha was fraying her nerves.
Johanna wiped her clammy palms on her skirt.
“An acquaintance of my father’s…” The lie slipped from her lips before she could stop it, a desperate attempt to keep the predatory shadow of Ilian Redis from falling over this already complicated arrangement.
Should I have told the truth?
She risked a glance up and found her gaze snared by his sunset-colored eyes.
She quickly looked down again.
“This acquaintance—is it a man?”
“Why would you ask…”
“Because it is suspicious,” he cut her off.
He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight, his arms folded across his chest.
His stare was utterly devoid of warmth.
“And because I cannot fully trust you, Miss Lucerne.
My investigation showed your history with men was clean, but one can never be sure.
Perhaps you have a secret lover.”
At that, Johanna’s head snapped up, the oppressive weight of his presence momentarily forgotten.
“I have no one like that,” she insisted firmly.
“It would not be a major issue if you did,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Your only jobs are to pretend to be my wife and bear me a Dominant Alpha heir.
However, if a scandal were to erupt, cleaning up the mess would be my responsibility, and the very thought is tiresome.
Do you understand?
Whoever you are seeing, end it.
And stay out of the papers.”
“…I understand.” It was pointless to argue.
He would not believe her anyway.
Giving up, Johanna swallowed the sigh that rose in her throat.
“And quit your illustration job.”
“About that, I was hoping to work until the end of the week…”
“I shall inform the newspaper.
As of tomorrow, you will no longer accept commissions.”
She could only nod, her opinion clearly irrelevant.
He was far more autocratic than she had imagined.
When we first met, all those years ago… he seemed kind.
Was that just charity?
Pity for a little Beta girl?
“Also…”
He closed the distance between them in an instant, his hand clamping down on her shoulder.
The pressure was slight, but a sharp pain shot through her.
Johanna gasped.
Leonid clicked his tongue in annoyance and pulled back.
He stripped off the glove that had touched her, tossing it carelessly onto the seat before retrieving a small, silver container from his pocket.
It flew through the air in a gentle arc.
She caught it, her eyes falling to the words on the lid.
It was an ointment for bruises and muscle pain.
“Apply that,” he ordered.
“You have a bruise.”
“Ah…” The words of thanks caught in her throat.
Is this kindness?
she wondered.
The sort one shows by tossing a coin to a beggar?
Whatever it was, it seemed he was concerned, in his own detached way.
“I will.
Thank you,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.
No more words were exchanged.
The silence remained heavy, but a strange giddiness bubbled up inside her, all because of the small container of ointment in her hand.
To be affected by something so small… what is wrong with me?
Soon, the carriage glided to a stop.
It was not on some random main street, but directly in front of her house.
A wave of gratitude washed over her, and she bowed her head to him.
“Thank you for seeing me home.”
“Tomorrow.” He was already pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.
The man’s mysophobia was absolute.
Did he hate even the touch of his glove on my clothes?
“I will send a carriage around nine in the morning.
Be ready.”
“Pardon?”
“We are going on a date,” he said flatly.
“You and I need to put on a convincing show of being in love, or my grandfather will grow suspicious.”
“Ah…” She felt like an idiot.
Her heart had leaped at the word ‘date,’ but this was just business.
It was nothing more than fulfilling the terms of their contract.
“And as of today, people will be talking.
It is best we feed them the bait ourselves.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.
Now go.” He gestured dismissively, an unspoken order to get out of his sight.
Johanna quickly mumbled her goodbyes and exited the carriage.
She started for the gate, then hesitated, turning back to watch the carriage pull away.
She could almost picture him inside, leaning back against the plush seat, his eyes closed in irritation.
The carriage shrank into the distance until it was just a dot, then vanished completely, leaving her alone in the desolate winter wind.
*
The next morning, just as promised, the Marquis Neuwitz’s carriage arrived in front of her building.
Johanna, who had been watching from her window, grabbed her bag and hurried outside.
As she approached, a middle-aged man disembarked from the coachman’s seat and bowed deeply.
“Good morning, Miss Lucerne.
His Excellency, Marquis Neuwitz, sent me.
I will see you safely to Weimar Mansion.”
“Oh, thank you.” Her voice trembled, the formality of the situation unsettling her.
The coachman opened the door, and she climbed awkwardly inside.
Just as the door was closing, her third-floor neighbor, Nadia, threw open her window.
Their eyes met.
Nadia’s own widened into perfect circles.
THUD.
The door shut, sealing her off from the outside world.
Johanna sank onto the seat, a hand pressed to her racing heart.
Now the entire neighborhood will be gossiping.
A fresh wave of anxiety washed over her.
Daniel.
She worried Nadia would get to him with some wild story before she had a chance to explain.