Chapter 9 – A Dangerous Proposal

“Thank you for inviting me today, Ian.”

When Diana addressed him by name—rather than his title—Ian let out a soft chuckle.

“So you’re finally using my name.”

“A promise is a promise.”

Somehow, he seemed to sense the restraint in her calm reply. He stared at her intently.

“Actually, I’m glad I could extend this invitation to you.”

He didn’t really sound glad at all.

“If you’d like, after tea I can show you around the estate. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

He spoke with ease—every word polished but hollow.

Soon, the butler Hermann entered with tea service. Once he exited, Diana responded modestly:

“Thank you, but I’ll pass on the tour—I’m not very interested in the house.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I believe we should discuss something more important.”

Ian Crawford was undeniably handsome—his smile shining like a jewel. Even a perfect hundred couldn’t match it—which made it unsettling.

“I have no idea what topic you might be bringing up, Lady Diana.”

“Ian, I am no fool. I did not come all this way to deny everything. Rest assured—I won’t pretend I heard nothing.”

She recognized that polished smile. It had denied the truth more times than she could count. She couldn’t tell whether he was a man—or a lie machine.

“Are you going to keep pretending to know nothing? Let me ask directly—have you had difficulties running the casino?”

“You continue to surpass my expectations.”

He looked surprised—but calm.

“You said you heard nothing, yet your behavior has changed. May I ask why?”

“And I’d like to know—why suddenly send invitations, ask me to call you by name, after saying it wasn’t time for marriage?”

“Because I became… interested in you.”

“Interested in a good way? A bad way?”

“Surprisingly, I found those two can coexist.”

His words pinned her in place.

“So, was that your reason for changing your mind?”

“You said you disliked pretenses.”

“Hahaha—you think it that simple?”

He brushed off her response with ease.

“I see your mother’s influence worked on me as leverage.”

“…”

Ian’s voice grew quieter:

“Well then—what do you propose as payment for overhearing forbidden conversation?”

Just the slightest coolness in his tone made all her hairs tingle.

“Wrong premise.”

She refused to show weakness—any crack would be fatal.

“I didn’t overhear anything. I was already in the lounge first.”

“Hmm.”

“Strictly speaking, I’m the victim. And you—you’re the one threatening me.”

“Even so, what difference would that make?”

His words echoed: dramatic but emotionless.

“I truly can think of no simpler solution than silencing you permanently. Do you agree?”

As if she’d ever.

She drew a breath with her hand over her heart.

“Ian, I am a Wellington. In a year, I will become the kingdom’s wealthiest heiress.”

“And how is that relevant?”

“I’m the only new noble trained to properly manage our family businesses.”

She stopped beating around the bush.

“Casino management—is it difficult?”

“…”

“You must face more than you expected, right?”

Every genre has familiar tropes. And for slitted‑eye villains, there’s one: incompetent underlings.

“Surely you’re tired of your loyal but useless subordinates who bring nothing but trouble.”

Ian was competent—even in the original novel—but still the villain. And villains get burned by betrayal again and again.

“I would be a better ally.”

“Oh?”

“I can help run the casino. Of course, under certain conditions.”

“Did you say conditions?”

“I can’t do anything that loses me money.”

Ian looked baffled—as if he’d never heard suggestion and insult collide so neatly before.

No wonder: usually she trembled under his threats, but now she was offering to help.

“Alright… explain.”

He nodded for more.

“Help run the casino, and in return, play my fake fiancée.”

“…Fake fiancée?”

Diana watched him carefully balance his teacup—his restraint was impressive.

“There are more than a few true aristocrats in the realm who despise me because of my business roots.”

The kingdom had two noble classes:
ℹ️ True nobles who inherited lands by lineage, and newly rich nobles built through commerce.
True nobles often viewed commerce as vulgar, disdainful of newly minted families.
Wellington was one such new noble house—once a barony built through daring enterprise, it became a countship three years ago, causing controversy among the true nobility.

“The old guard will disrespect me—but gossip will stick even harder to a woman than a man.”

Ian knew society’s whispers would come for her. She refused to let it be ruinous.

“So you’ll act utterly smitten, and I’ll play the reluctant fiancé.”

“…And then?”

“At the end, I’ll reject you spectacularly — explaining I can’t stand a man like you.”

“That sounds deeply personal—for a woman protecting her reputation.”

“Perhaps it’s just a misunderstanding.”

He laughed—an amused, dangerous sound.

Diana spoke her own terms clearly.

Ian slowly leaned forward, then rested his chin on his hand.

“Bold idea—but here’s another: I can accept a deal. I spare your parents if you become my bride, and serve me loyally until death.”

“Is that also a deeply personal suggestion?”

“Probably a misconception.”

Diana stared back at him—sharp-eyed, unyielding.

There was so much she could argue—but one thing was more important:

“Fine. One thing remains: Ian, do you truly want to become engaged to me?”

“…”

“Will you—honestly welcome me as your bride and become my family?”

At that moment, the false smile Ian wore finally vanished for the first time.