Chapter 14
At his words, Scarlett opened the eyes she had been keeping tightly shut and looked up at Viktor.
“Should I?”
When she asked, Viktor muttered with a flat expression.
“Yeah, you always had a talent for making me feel rotten.”
Scarlett was so startled by something she never imagined Viktor would say that her chest heaved involuntarily as she tried to breathe. Then she pushed him away with all her strength.
But he didn’t budge. Instead, he seized her wrist as she reached for the doorknob, pressing it against the door as he continued.
“Last time, you said that, didn’t you? That I signed the divorce papers right away because I wanted the divorce too.”
“…Of course.”
Flustered, Scarlett tried to pull her wrist free, but his hand was like a pair of iron cuffs that wouldn’t move an inch.
“You hated that I let you go so easily? Then what should I have done? Should I have locked you up like a lunatic instead?”
Her ex-husband was acting strange.
This was the first time Viktor had ever revealed such raw aggression so openly.
Scarlett tried to mask her fear, glaring at him with the fierce eyes of an animal baring its claws.
“What’s wrong with you? This isn’t like you.”
“I’m asking. You and your father kept it from me, as if it were none of my business. So what should I have done to satisfy you? When someone hands me divorce papers in the middle of the night while drunk, then walks out—what should I have done?”
“…”
Scarlett remained silent for a long while. Then, after some time, she spoke.
“Didn’t you ask me while drunk? Why I wanted the divorce?”
“I wasn’t in a rational state.”
“You’re always excessively rational. How much more rational did you need to be? You…”
Scarlett struggled to ask calmly, but afterwards only her trembling breaths filled the space.
Whenever she spoke with this man, she always felt like she was the only crazy one.
He acted as though there were no problem, while she was left believing she was the problem.
I’m always the only emotional one.
As always, Viktor’s face was unreadably indifferent. When Scarlett trailed off, he looked at her as if expecting her to finish her sentence.
Unlike him, Scarlett could never hide her emotions. Even with a cold expression, everything showed on her face.
Viktor looked at her as if she were some creature that had always existed in the world, but had only just now been discovered—something like a bizarre deep-sea being.
Why did she laugh, why did she cry, why did she get angry, why had she devoted herself and claimed to love him from the very first moment they met, even when she hardly knew him? And then why had she betrayed him, and why had she left? He couldn’t understand a single one of these things.
In truth, it wasn’t just Viktor. Many nobles in Salantie felt the same. They scorned meaningless acts, and looked down upon anything too emotional or too idealistic—anything that aspired beyond simply existing as a noble.
His world was all order and connection, while hers was scattered and erratic. Through Viktor’s flawless eyes, Scarlett often—nearly always—looked deranged.
At that moment, a knock broke the silence from outside the door.
“This is Fran, young master.”
When Viktor reached to lock the door, Scarlett stopped him with a hand, warning him not to.
Being a gentleman, Viktor had no choice but to step back, and Scarlett opened the door.
Fran, the Dumfelt family lawyer, pretended not to notice the commotion inside and gave a polite professional smile.
“I found the nondisclosure agreement. The master’s secretary had it.”
Then he handed a document to Scarlett.
“I settled it as alimony of the same amount. You can rest assured now.”
“…”
Scarlett accepted it and turned to look at Viktor.
Even before she could ask, he had already dealt with everything.
Viktor glanced over the NDA she had written, then lit it with his lighter and tossed it into the fireplace. Turning back, he met Scarlett’s cool gaze and asked:
“What? You don’t like this either?”
“…Everything comes easy for you, doesn’t it.”
“If you had come to me first, everything would have been easy.”
At his words, Scarlett closed her eyes for a moment.
She knew her ex-husband was someone who couldn’t stand showing weakness to anyone.
But what would that change?
In the end, even pretending to hold onto her had been beneath him—because he couldn’t bear anyone seeing him drunk. That, too, was Viktor Dumfelt.
Noble blood.
Blood that, even if spilled alongside hers, would never mix.
When Scarlett turned to leave, Viktor spoke to his secretary, Blight, who was waiting outside the door.
“Prepare the carriage. We’re going to the Crimson estate.”
“Yes, young master.”
Blight bowed and hurried off.
Scarlett wanted to demand why he was deciding to go to the Crimson estate on his own, but she didn’t want to argue any further.
The journey to the Crimson estate by carriage took over two hours.
Scarlett pressed down her sighs and discomfort deep in her throat. Meanwhile, Viktor, unable to endure the long silence, pulled out a cigarette and lighter.
Scarlett asked,
“You don’t smoke indoors.”
“I didn’t smoke when you were around.”
“…”
“You’re not my wife anymore, so it doesn’t matter, does it.”
Scarlett looked at him briefly, then gave up and opened the window. It seemed he thought there was no need to be considerate anymore after the divorce—or maybe he was trying to make her suffer on purpose.
Viktor lit his cigarette, and Scarlett tried to ignore it. But when smoke filled the cramped carriage, she couldn’t stand it and coughed harshly.
Seeing that, Viktor actually laughed and stubbed out the cigarette in a portable ashtray.
“If you were going to glare at me like that, you should’ve just said so. Told me not to smoke.”
Compared to during their marriage, Viktor seemed a little loosened now—even though he was still dressed with suffocating neatness.
Even though they had divorced badly, Scarlett found herself worried enough to ask,
“Has something been going on with you lately?”
“I got divorced.”
“…I mean recently.”
“I found out my wife had signed a nondisclosure agreement with my father.”
“…”
“Come to think of it, that’s enough reason for a cigarette or two.”
To Scarlett, Viktor Dumfelt had always seemed the perfect man. Faultless in every way, his life running smoothly like a railway with no derailment.
But after the divorce, she realized even he wasn’t flawless. He was a chain-smoker, he had problems with emotions that were anything but rational, and he was slightly tone-deaf. He wasn’t nearly as perfect as her memories had painted him.
Two hours later, the carriage arrived at Crimson estate.
Viktor stepped down first and held out his hand. Scarlett placed her hand on his and stepped onto the carriage stairs that the coachman had set in place.
Once on the ground, Viktor flicked his fingers to have a servant fetch her luggage. After spending a year doing everything alone, suddenly being treated like a lady again felt uncomfortable.
Viktor was the kind of gentleman who believed that a lady should never lift a finger, as delicate as a flower. She shouldn’t have to work—or even open her mouth. Scarlett was sure that he thought her running a clock shop was utterly pathetic.
Scarlett thanked him politely.
“Thank you. You’re going to the embassy, right?”
“Probably.”
“Take care, then.”
With that farewell, she turned away.
In the front yard, Arnold and Marilyn’s friends were gathered around a bonfire, playing. Oddly, they didn’t try to pick a fight with her. When she glanced back, she saw why—Viktor was standing by the carriage, smoking the cigarette he hadn’t finished earlier.
Scarlett turned back again, silently, and headed toward the house.
