17 ❖ ❖ ❖
Vivienne returned to the duke’s residence in the Langston limousine provided by the Duchess. The Duchess had said it wouldn’t matter if Vivienne stayed a few more days while Edmund was away, but Vivienne politely declined. She planned to write a letter and leave instead.
As expected, Edmund was not at the estate. When Vivienne informed the maid of this, the maid said she could call Edmund for her. Vivienne waved her hand awkwardly, saying there was no need, but the maid had already stepped away.
Vivienne began writing her letter without any expectations when the door behind her opened. The scent of smoke reached her, and her eyelashes fluttered involuntarily.
Edmund silently picked up the letter from the dressing table and began reading it. Vivienne struggled to snatch it away, but it was useless. He let out a soft, incredulous laugh. The way he looked at her, as if thinking you actually tried to run away from me, made Vivienne unable to meet his eyes.
“Mergevill.”
He turned her chair so that their eyes met. The silence made her uneasy, but this was not a moment for protest. Just being near him made her chest tighten.
“Shall we start with the child? Or were you really that disappointed you couldn’t finish before?”
“No.”
“That’s what it sounded like in the letter. You were angry today because of that.”
“…I said we should consider it as if nothing happened, understanding that you were fed up with me and that I only compared you to the agent for a moment. How did that get read differently?”
Edmund chuckled, crumpling the letter and adding it to the pile of dozens of already crumpled sheets.
“Why are you crumpling it on your own? Don’t I have the freedom to write letters in this house?”
Vivienne hurried to follow him, settling on the sofa across from him.
“I never had feelings for the Count.”
Edmund, who had taken out his cigarette, looked at her. As if to say go on, Vivienne gathered her courage and spoke.
“The slightest hint of possibility… it was because I was mentally struggling, and you resembled that agent. I only used you temporarily as a substitute.”
“A substitute… used.”
Vivienne flinched at how deep and harsh his voice had become. She forced herself to look at the tip of the cigarette in his hand, nodding. She could no longer deceive him.
“The same goes for you, Count. How much did you really know about me?”
“…….”
“You wanted my body.”
That didn’t bother Vivienne. For a moment, she liked that he wanted her body. That he had refused her when she had asked for more… it was a little embarrassing, but she didn’t care anymore.
So, when she said this, it was a way of suggesting they settle what had happened between them, acknowledging that he wanted nothing more than her body and that even that interest could fade quickly. It was an adult way of closing the chapter.
Yes, she was an adult too—she was twenty-three now. Vivienne sat gracefully, meeting his gaze.
“I know you were trying to fluster me with what you just said. I understand you have no intention of giving me your heart… so let’s settle things, amicably. You’ve already paid your dues for my pushing forward, Count, so go on your way.”
“…….”
“But promise me that if I learn anything, you’ll make sure to pass it on to His Excellency.”
Edmund glanced at Vivienne’s resolute expression and smirked. No matter what she said, in his mind only one thought remained: you want my body.
Vivienne had a surprisingly good intuition. She knew her own body well—every part of it was undeniably beautiful.
Feeling his gaze, she drew her soft coat around herself and averted her eyes. It was cute. So cute that he wanted to devour her whole. But she must not fear him. He was patient, but with Vivienne, he was different.
“Considering that, haven’t I been too generous?”
The tip of his cigarette slowly lowered, stopping near her waist.
“I’ve saved the best part for last.”
Vivienne’s face turned crimson.
“So you’re sulking because I didn’t finish it, is that it?”
“Count.”
“Why? So moved by my consideration that you feel like prostrating yourself now?”
“…….”
“I could make you feel good. Which side should I start with this time? Upper… or…?”
“Don’t. This isn’t a game for me.”
Tears welled in Vivienne’s eyes. Edmund couldn’t take his gaze off her swollen eyes. Even as he restrained his desire and offered the generosity of leaving quietly, she seemed upset, perhaps because he hadn’t treated her as an adult—or maybe for another reason entirely.
He placed the cigarette in the ashtray and filled a glass on the side table with whiskey, trying to suppress the heat rising from his body. He took a sip, no ice, and leaned back on the sofa.
“You said we’d end this.”
His voice was deep and rough. Vivienne nodded firmly.
“I don’t want to end it. You can’t just decide that on your own.”
“I am engaged to the second son of the Rex family…”
“Then you should have asked me to end that.”
Edmund took another sip of whiskey. Vivienne looked surprised—drinking during the day was considered unseemly for aristocrats.
He could have drunk the fruit wine beside him instead. Both bottles were gifts Vivienne had received at the dining table and stored here: one from Kingsley, the other a vintage the Duke had insisted she keep.
“My lady, you always have to tell me what you want out loud, don’t you?”
“…….”
Vivienne wanted to argue but couldn’t. The kisses, the bodies pressed together over clothing—these were all things she had wanted.
What she truly did not want was for him to abandon her. Her heart had been unsettled until now because she had feared he no longer desired her.
Reality now struck: his interest hadn’t faded, and she resolved to close the chapter decisively. Once she returned, she would confess everything to her parents and secure the annulment…
Clink. The whiskey glass set on the side table made Vivienne flinch.
“Fine. I want your body.”
Edmund lightly pushed the side table closer to her. The glass toppled, spilling onto the carpet, which soaked in the liquid.
“And you like my face.”
“No. You were fed up with me.”
“Is that what you thought? Well, as long as you weren’t fed up with my face, I don’t mind.”
He touched the buckle of his belt. Vivienne’s face went pale. Ludwig had always held a belt in his hand, scolding her with a cold voice.
Edmund, as if disarming himself, placed his belt on the sofa and looked at her. Vivienne felt exposed to the core, lowering her head and trembling as she had before Ludwig.
She tried to speak in her usual tone:
“I visited the Duchess… she said since there was no blood on the sheets, we could consider it as if nothing happened.”
“Then we just need clean sheets first.”
Edmund’s voice continued, strangely tinged with irritation.
“I wondered what it would feel like to gather your long hair in a single grip on the day we rode together. You always make me curious.”
Vivienne realized this was his clear answer to her earlier complaints—whether he had lost interest or not.
“Kneel before me, and we can consider today as if it never happened.”
He put the cigarette between his lips.
“If you want a child, you must please me, Vivienne.”
Vivienne shrank back. He arrogantly lit the cigarette tip and said:
“You said if I kissed you, you’d remove your fiancé. I also said I’d handle the annulment. But if you act impatient and defiant like this, it upsets me.”
“…….”
“Or you could go to the head of the underworld now and beg. You’ve abandoned your fiancé, your family, your police officer brother, and now the Count who likes you. So…”
“Count.”
“So, I’m afraid you’ll have to walk the path of the afterlife with the person you eliminated. But we were delayed because there were too many men demanding payment along the way.”
“No.”
Vivienne lowered her head, and Edmund’s sharp gaze softened.
“Why?”
“…….”
“Does the head of the underworld let anyone meet him? Then fine. Do everything they ask along the way, and since you’ll be touched anyway, show the head that beautiful self of yours.”
“…I’m scared.”
“Me doing this?”
“The head of the underworld.”
Vivienne cried as she said this.
“The person I wanted gone is so powerful… I’m scared of compromising, scared of getting used to the warmth you give, and…”
She looked up at him.
“…I’m scared you’ll abandon me, Count.”
Edmund chuckled lowly. He found it cute that she had been thinking all sorts of things in her little head.
“Then come to me and ask prettily not to do that.”
“I’ve never done that. I don’t want to beg for affection.”
“Then it’s lucky I’m not that agent, isn’t it?”
“…….”
“That agent is dead. You have only one choice left. But if you act so brazen, it offends me. You have to ask nicely if you want me to agree to a proper marriage.”
“Excuse me.”
Vivienne rose and walked toward the door. She knew his heart hadn’t changed—or perhaps he noticed her feelings and intended to use them to coax her into indulgence.
No matter how miserable, she would not maintain this kind of relationship—where she was inevitably his weakness, where liking him would be shameful.
To please that man while enduring emotional torment felt like a role for a mistress. Better to return to her family and ask for forgiveness before things worsened.
She would confess her transgressions, annul the engagement, and… hope she could proceed to the head of the underworld as planned.
Now, having let go of her feelings for him, she could pray to God to give her the courage to endure the punishment left for her.
She got into the Langston, seemingly prepared by the Duchess.
Her first thought: seeing a man with an agent’s face behave so rudely, it couldn’t get worse. Yet, leaving him didn’t feel good at all.
Had she been deceived by a scoundrel who was always teasing her and coveting her body? Vivienne tried to convince herself it was only her feelings for the agent.
It was only her feelings for the man who was now dead. At least, until she realized the car was heading in a different direction.
