“Stop your pathetic scheming and find a mate to settle down with.
How long do you intend to chase after my shadow?” As he spoke, Leonid’s arm snaked around Johanna’s shoulders, pulling her flush against his side.
The gesture was a calculated cruelty, meant only to wound.
Young Duke Vantwood’s eyes darted between them, widening in disbelief.
His lips trembled as he finally managed a choked question.
“D-Do not tell me… this woman… is she your… rut partner?”
His gaze screamed the unspoken question: I thought you did not keep rut partners.
He looked utterly betrayed.
Leonid, seeming to read his every thought, let out a short, mocking laugh.
“No,” he said, his voice dangerously soft.
“She is more than that.”
“What… what do you mean…?” The Young Duke was practically gasping for air, his pheromones spiking with instability.
At this point, even Johanna felt a pang of pity for him.
“Perhaps this is a good opportunity for an introduction,” Leonid continued smoothly.
“Allow me to present my fiancée, Miss Johanna Lucerne.
We plan to be married soon.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with malice.
“Would you like an invitation?”
The final question was a dagger, aimed to inflict the deepest wound.
He was taunting the man, daring him to attend the wedding and offer congratulations with a smile.
The Young Duke froze, his eyes filling with tears.
He threw a hand over his face and spun away.
“S-Sorry, I am so sorry.
I just remembered something urgent… I have to go.
I shall greet you properly next time…”
He fled without finishing his sentence, his retreating figure a portrait of misery that left a lasting impression on Johanna.
*
In the quiet of the carriage, Johanna replayed the scene in her mind, her thoughts a tangled mess.
The image of the pitiful Young Duke Vantwood was seared into her memory.
That was the fate of an Omega who fell for Leonid Neuwitz—a man who, she suspected, did not even see them as human, a man who would not spare them a single crumb of kindness.
“Why do you hate Omegas so much?” The question tumbled from her lips before she could stop it.
Leonid met her gaze, one eyebrow raised in skepticism.
Johanna’s stomach clenched.
Had she finally crossed a line?
“Why do you think?” he countered, his tone casual enough to suggest he was not offended.
She glanced at him, choosing her words with care.
“Did you… have a great deal of trouble because of them?”
“Trouble?” His lips twisted into a cynical sneer.
“I have had a sickening amount of it.” His eyes lost focus for a moment, dredging up the past, and she saw a deep, settled anger in their depths.
“It is a story you should be able to piece together, Miss Lucerne.
Consider my trait, my background.
That Omega just now… he has been chasing me for over six years.”
Johanna’s eyes widened.
Six years.
The thought was staggering.
To love a man like this for so long…
“It started in my academy days.
It was absolutely nauseating.
And Lukas Vantwood’s obsession is tame by comparison.
There were others—crazed enough to try to drug me, to force themselves upon me.”
The raw confession shocked Johanna to her core.
She had imagined persistent courtships, not something so violent.
“They do not know a single thing about me as a person—what I think, what I like, what I hate—and they have no desire to learn,” he continued, his voice dripping with venom.
She remained silent.
“They see an Extreme Dominant Alpha, the heir to the Elderic duchy, and think that if they can just pin me down and force me to take responsibility, they will profit.
So many of them approached me for those filthy reasons, treating me less like a man and more like a stud horse with good seed.”
Johanna could not find the words to respond, merely moistening her dry lips with her tongue.
Leonid Neuwitz had lived a life far more turbulent than she could have ever imagined.
It was no wonder he was so prickly, so guarded.
He must have been exhausted, worn down by a world that would never leave him in peace.
“Do you understand now?” he asked.
“Do you see how I came to despise Omegas?”
“…Yes,” she whispered, nodding obediently.
She could not bring herself to ask more.
He surely had more stories, but bearing one’s entire life was an intimacy reserved for those who were truly close.
And she was merely a fake fiancée.
“You might find this surprising, but I hold you in rather high regard, Miss Lucerne.”
“Me…?”
“You manifested as an Omega only recently, yet your control over your pheromones is perfect.
You do not go around leaking them like that man back there.”
Johanna held her breath.
“As you know, Alphas and Omegas struggle with control when they are near someone they desire.
But you show no signs of that whatsoever…”
Her silence was a shield.
“Which allows me to be certain that you harbor no personal feelings for me at all.”
He let out a low laugh.
“It is a very clean, professional attitude.
I like it.”
Johanna’s face felt like a mask, unable to settle into a smile or a frown.
She lowered her gaze, grateful he was not watching her.
He had already lost interest, his attention fixed on the view outside the window as the carriage arrived at a luxury shopping district.
“Prepare to disembark.
We still need to properly execute the second part of today’s schedule.” He slipped on the mask of a devoted fiancé once more, his voice turning sweet.
She had no time to be stunned by his chameleon-like shift in demeanor.
The door opened, and he stepped out, extending a hand to her.
The noise of the street rushed in, carried on the cold, late-winter air.
“A barrage of gifts,” he whispered in her ear as her feet touched the pavement.
His voice was a silken imitation of kindness, but an undercurrent of irritation frayed its edges.
The gentle smile he offered was so perfect it could have fooled anyone, if only for a fleeting moment.
The shop windows glittered in the blinding sun, a chorus of vain brilliance.
As she looked at them, Johanna had a chilling thought.
If I cannot crush these feelings completely, I will end up just like that poor Young Duke Vantwood.
*
Their first stop was a couturier.
It was a boutique Johanna had visited several times for her freelance work with a gossip magazine—though never as a customer.
She was often commissioned to illustrate the head designer’s new collections, her drawings later featured as a catalog in the magazine.
Her skill at rendering delicate lace and intricate patterns had made her a favorite among the designers.
She had once even been offered a position there, but the pay had been too low to accept.
“Marquis Neuwitz, you have arrived!
Thank you for visiting… Oh my.”
As they had a reservation, the boutique was empty save for the staff.
The head designer and her assistants approached with welcoming smiles, but they froze upon seeing Johanna.
The designer’s eyes darted between Leonid and Johanna, and a slow dawn of understanding—followed by sheer shock—spread across her face.
Johanna let her gaze slide away, avoiding their stares.
“I would like to order some clothes for my fiancée,” Leonid stated curtly.
“Ah, yes!
Of course, Your Excellency!” the designer snapped to attention, recovering first.
“Thank you for your visit.
We have everything ready.” She began issuing a flurry of instructions to her dumbfounded staff.
A short while later, Johanna was standing before a full-length mirror as they meticulously took her measurements and draped various fabrics against her pale skin.
With her beautiful skin, any color suited her, but the designer recommended light pastels, likely in anticipation of the coming spring.
“A bright yellow like this clashes with platinum blonde hair,” the designer mused.
“A pure white fabric with ornate gold embroidery would be far more stunning.
Paired with diamond jewelry, it would be absolutely captivating.”
The designer’s younger brother owned the jewelry store next door, a fact that made her suggestion less than subtle.
Knowing the jeweler was their next stop, Johanna simply nodded.
After they had placed orders for over thirty custom outfits, they finally departed.
They went directly to the adjacent jewelry store.
Unlike the boutique, they had not arranged to have it cleared, but it was a quiet time of day, and the shop was empty.
While Leonid had made all the decisions at the dressmaker’s, he magnanimously granted Johanna the freedom to choose the jewelry—likely because while an ill-chosen dress could damage one’s dignity, it was nearly impossible to go wrong with precious gems.
Though Johanna had no confidence in her own taste, having never been exposed to fine jewelry, she knew what she liked.
She decided to trust her instincts; if she chose poorly, Leonid would surely intervene.