Chapter 20
The oppressive force radiating from Dante Venachert was enough to drain the very blood from a man’s veins.
Even Evan, who had been watching from the side, faltered and stepped back, the suffocating air too much to bear.
It was only his third time meeting the Duke, yet already he felt hollowed out to the bone.
By rights, a proper warrant should have been issued and the suspect interrogated under the law. But if that were done, Dante would have no grounds to intervene, for the woman in question had long ceased to be his wife.
Dante understood that perfectly—and so he ignored the law altogether.
So when he said “bring him to me”… he meant kidnap him outright?
Evan clicked his tongue inwardly.
In truth, it wasn’t only the Duke’s lawlessness that unsettled him.
He knew that the woman in the carriage had been the former Duchess.
Yet Dante showed no trace of grief.
Hauling this man here and conducting his own interrogation was nothing more than the most efficient way to extract information.
In other words, Dante’s motives were entirely his own.
There was no guilt, no regret, no memory of a dead wife.
He was a man without blood or tears.
Hadn’t he ordered every one of her belongings disposed of, without the slightest hesitation, when they had been returned to him?
Evan’s gaze shifted briefly toward the steward standing quietly in the corner.
As Dante’s closest confidant, surely that man knew far more.
Outwardly, Evan appeared cooperative, but inwardly he thought, The moment something rotten slips out about you, I’ll hand it straight to the constabulary.
For now, he only let his eyes glaze over, feigning indifference as he watched the Duke.
And truthfully, that was no pretense. Behern’s most admired figure, Duke Venachert, was altogether different in person—far too cruel, cold, and overwhelming.
“I-I truly know nothing…! I don’t even know who you are, please, spare me!”
“I told you, not a single useless word.” Dante’s voice was like a blade. “You’re a slow one.”
His tongue clicked softly.
Then his boot came down on the coachman’s thigh.
“Aaagh!”
The man screamed in agony.
Dante only pressed harder.
Evan instinctively pushed himself off the wall, startled, but froze at once under the Duke’s frigid gaze.
Interfere, and I’ll kill you.
The look in his eyes was enough.
“Who hired you?” Dante demanded again, this time with unshakable certainty.
“Wh-what? Hired me? There’s no such thing! Please, you must believe me!”
The man’s voice broke with desperation, but Dante’s golden eyes grew colder still.
“You must have been paid well, if you keep your mouth shut even before me.”
His lips twisted into a crooked smile as he drove his heel in deeper.
