Chapter 3
Avoiding Killian’s eyes, Rowena sent Viola a letter asking to meet. The reply came swiftly. Instead of the Bernier estate, Viola chose Vita Cathedral as their meeting place.
On a day that was not Sunday, the cathedral lay silent, devoid of worshippers. As a place long supported by the Bernier family, it was only natural that space had been discreetly cleared so the sisters could speak without prying eyes.
Yet the moment she stepped inside, Rowena realized a fatal flaw.
Two years ago, she had married Killian in this very cathedral. Perhaps because of that, memories she did not wish to recall kept flashing before her eyes.
Clap, clap, clap.
Applause echoed in her ears.
Beyond a white veil, she saw people clapping their hands amid cheers of blessing.
The flowers that had lavishly adorned the chapel, the hem of her dress sparkling in the sunlight… Killian’s face, smiling gently as he lifted her veil.
It had all been perfect.
The flowers and the dress had not been to her taste, yet she had been happy nonetheless—so happy it had frightened her.
The applause grew louder.
Clap, clap, clap, clap.
Clap, clap, clap—
…Smack!
With a sharp crack, Rowena’s head snapped to the side. A stinging pain spread across her cheek, and the air inside the chapel froze instantly.
Slowly, Rowena raised her head.
“You shameless little wretch—how dare you summon me, and for what reason?!”
The cathedral that had once been filled with bright flowers and guests two years ago now held only Rowena and Viola. Instead of light-colored dresses, they were clad in jet-black garments, mourning their father’s death.
On Viola’s once-lovely face, hatred now stood out with brutal clarity. From that expression alone, Rowena understood many things.
“…So you knew too. That it was all Killian’s doing.”
If Viola, like herself, had known nothing, there would have been no reason to strike her so suddenly.
Which meant she knew the truth—that what the world believed was a lie, and that Killian had been behind everything.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
And yet, the reason she had come to Ravenhill without revealing the truth, the reason she had kept silent before other reporters as well, was likely—
“Were you ashamed? Ashamed that you were consorting with that man, yet hadn’t realized he would go this far?”
As always, it had been for her own sake.
The moment Killian’s true nature came to light, her own infidelity would be exposed as well. She felt no shame in having slept with her younger sister’s husband—but she was ashamed of the fact that, like her sister, she had merely been used and discarded. And so she had kept her mouth shut.
Struck at the heart, Viola’s plump face flushed red in an instant. Clenching her fists, she raised her voice.
“You…! You knew, and yet—!”
“No. I didn’t know. But you were the one who left things like this behind, hoping I would find out.”
From within her cloak, Rowena took out the earrings. The garnet-studded pair gleamed quietly on her pale palm.
There was no way they had ended up in her husband’s jacket pocket by accident. Someone’s intention had been at work—and since that someone could not have been Killian, the answer was obvious.
“Then why are you the one who’s angry?”
Viola had been committing adultery for a long time. And to reveal it—or to provoke a divorce—she had deliberately left behind clues.
But due to a maid’s interference, Rowena had failed to notice them, and in the meantime Killian had destroyed the Bernier family. That was beyond what Viola had anticipated, and afterward, she had chosen silence.
“…You only found it now? How can you be so slow about everything?”
Grinding her teeth, trembling, Viola finally seemed to grasp the situation. She let out a scoff.
“It was the pair I was wearing on the second Friday of August, when your husband summoned me to the Upperside Hotel’s suite. Since he showed no sign of returning them, I thought Killian had simply lost them somewhere again.”
“Viola.”
Hearing her sister speak her husband’s nickname so naturally, Rowena bit down hard on her lip.
The Viola who had been sneering moments ago suddenly raised her voice like a cornered beast.
“I’m a victim too, you know! From the very first day I was invited to the Bernier estate, he pursued me!”
It was something Rowena had already suspected.
“He was the one who seduced me first, and the one who deceived Father and brought about the fall of Bernier!”
She had known it all along—yet still…
“Why do you think I’m angry? Because watching you live in comfort on your husband’s money, completely oblivious after dragging a bastard like that into our family, makes me sick! Do you have any idea how hard things are for Mother and me right now?”
The moment the truth was confirmed, her breath caught again.
“Divorce him immediately. Bring back at least the Grosvenor shares you received at the wedding! If you think you can keep them all for yourself, I won’t let it slide!”
As Viola screamed in fury, Rowena remained silent.
She had never once desired shares or wealth. A life of luxury funded by her husband’s money was never what she wanted.
From the moment she was born, all she had ever longed for was love—love alone…
‘Prepare for your end without regrets, surrounded by those you love.’
Even that, she could no longer deny, had never been something granted to her—
Not even at the moment of death.
—
Rowena signed the documents she had prepared in advance, gathered them up, and headed for Killian’s study.
With every step she took, a dull, aching pain stabbed at the inside of her ribs. Her breath kept coming short, making her want to stop and rest—but there were things in this world that could not be put off, no matter how much one wished otherwise.
Killian, who usually returned home only late at night due to his relentless schedule, had been coming back unusually early these past few days.
Was it to keep an eye on her?
Whatever the reason, it was laughable.
There had been a time when her greatest wish was to spend more time with him. And now, only after he had betrayed her, that wish was being fulfilled. There could be no irony more cruel than that.
“Who did this?”
When he noticed her swollen, reddened cheek, Killian’s face twisted sharply. To Rowena, however, even that expression looked nothing more than a scene from a farce.
“Please sign this.”
She placed the documents she had brought onto the desk. But Killian didn’t even glance at them, pressing her again in a low voice.
“I asked who did this, Madam.”
Rowena met his gaze head-on and repeated herself.
“Sign it.”
His thick brows twitched roughly, and only then did his eyes drop to the papers.
[Agreement to Divorce.]
The moment the elegantly written title caught his eye, the rigid line of his mouth warped into a crooked smile.
“How refined of you. To put this much effort into producing trash.”
The white paper was torn cleanly in half in an instant. Rowena clenched her teeth silently.
“Killian.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“…I’ll rewrite it, so sign it then. Living in the same house as someone you’re divorcing can’t be comfortable for you either.”
“I believe I made it clear that I have no intention of divorcing you. Which means a separation isn’t even worth discussing.”
“Whether you want it or not, I do. I’ll be filing for divorce.”
Killian fell silent. His cold gaze slowly traced over her face.
“This is the first time you’ve ever told me directly what you want.”
A faint smile slipped from between his lips.
“Isn’t it amusing? The first thing you ever truly wished for—was a divorce.”
His tone sounded as though she were the one at fault.
Rowena didn’t answer. As if he hadn’t expected a reply to begin with, his gaze quickly dropped away.
“I never starved you, never laid a hand on you, nor committed any form of abuse. In other words, I bear no legal fault.”
“…You destroyed my family.”
“Your family fell because of Count Bernier’s abysmal judgment. And it was the banks and investors who drove your father to suicide—not me.”
“I know you were behind it.”
“That’s not what qualifies as evidence in legal documents. Judging by this, even the concept itself seems difficult for you to grasp.”
The insult pierced her like a blade.
She bit down hard on her lip once, then replied sharply.
“…The second Friday of August. The fact that you and Viola were together in a suite at the Upperside Hotel that night would count as sufficient legal evidence, wouldn’t it?”
He faltered for a brief moment mid-sentence. Locking her gaze onto his face, Rowena continued.
“You’ve lived quite a busy life, haven’t you? Just how greedy were you for the Bernier fortune, to approach both sisters?”
Would he deny it—or admit it?
She wanted to know, and yet she didn’t.
The silence that followed felt like hours instead of seconds.
“Unfortunately, that won’t amount to usable evidence either.”
Ah—Rowena let out something close to a groan.
“Unless you can prove whether I merely exchanged words with my sister-in-law in that hotel room, or engaged in a more… sordid conversation of bodies.”
He neither admitted nor denied it. He was simply restating the cold reality.
Killian Vale had feigned love to obtain the Bernier family. The reason he chose her over Viola was nothing more than because she was the cheaper option.
From the very beginning, there had been no love at all.
“If Viola testifies—”
“She won’t.”
Killian cut her off coldly. His tone brimmed with certainty, as if he knew Viola all too well.
“Madam. You have no useful guardian, no family home to return to. No matter what I’ve done, the person who stands to lose the most from a divorce is you. So let’s stop this childish whining here.”
“…Whether I suffer losses, or where I go and what hardships I endure after the divorce—that’s no longer any of your concern. Don’t try to lecture me. I know enough already. And as for the shares in your company—”
“Ah. The shares.”
A laugh burst out from between his savagely twisted lips. His dark eyes shimmered as though they might explode at any moment.
“Now I finally understand the context.”
“……”
“Even if we divorce, you’ll never get those shares. Does that satisfy you now?”
He glared at her as though she were a thief about to steal his property.
It was ridiculous. What meaning could shares possibly hold for someone who would soon be dead?
All she wanted was to shed the surname ‘Vale’ before she died—nothing more.
“…No. My decision hasn’t changed. Divorce me.”
“A worthless conversation. That’s enough—go back.”
“What was worthless was our marriage.”
Bang!
The dull sound rang in her ears.
Killian shot to his feet, grinding his teeth as he strode toward her.
“You’d better stop spouting such insolent nonsense, Rowena Vale.”
A dark shadow fell over her. From within it, she quietly looked up at her husband’s face.
“I told you, didn’t I? You no longer have a family to return to, nor a guardian to help you.”
The eyes burning like molten steel were ones she had never known.
The mocking curve of his mouth, the voice that so readily spat out curses—everything was unfamiliar and horrifying.
“That means you’re nothing without me.”
Where had the Killian Vale she knew gone?
Where was the man who had lifted her from the lake, who smiled gently whenever their eyes met…?
“Don’t come here pointlessly to provoke me. Just live quietly. Whether your blood relative drank poison and died, or was sold off cheaply because they couldn’t repay their debts—keep your head down and continue living gracefully in this house. Smiling prettily like a doll.”
Slow as she was, Rowena finally understood.
He was gone.
The Killian Vale she knew did not exist.
What she had loved was not this man, but the illusion created by his desire.
“That was the only thing you were ever good at, Rowena.”
The chaos inside her—despair and rage tangled together—suddenly emptied out, leaving her strangely light.
Rowena stared at his face in silence for a long moment. Then, at the very end of it, she smiled softly.
“Thank you, Killian.”
Killian’s brow twitched. The fury that had clouded his eyes flickered into something like confusion.
“My thoughts were still a mess… but thanks to you, sorting them out became much easier.”
