To My First Love, With Regret - 101

Instead of transferring Chantal to a hospital and giving her a chance to live, she would isolate her deep within the mansion and let her slowly wither away.

To pull this off without arousing suspicion, careful acting was required.

—Doctor, what do we do now? Is there a treatment?

A flicker of distress crossed Owen’s face. Eve could only hope that, in the butler’s eyes, the true reason for that agitation remained hidden.

—I wish there were a way, but….

Fortunately, the man was well aware that in the eyes of others, he was merely Chantal’s lover. Donning the mask of the grieving paramour, Owen announced his despair in a trembling voice.

—There is little hope of recovery from a sedative overdose this severe.

—Are you saying even a large hospital couldn’t save her?

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared intently into Eve’s eyes, trying to read the true intent of his master.

—Regrettably, yes.

It was clear that despite being a useless sheep, the man had survived among wolves solely due to his ability to read the room.

—There is no antidote for this particular sedative…. Even if the top authorities from a major hospital were to come, they would have no choice but to do as I am: stay by her side and wait to see if the Dowager Duchess can overcome it on her own.

If the lover and physician himself claimed there was no point in going to the hospital, no one would question locking Chantal inside this gilded coffin.

Owen then hammered the final nail in, wearing a somber expression to suggest that whatever followed was merely a natural, inevitable process.

—The window for intervention has already passed. It would be better for her dignity to let her meet her end peacefully at home. But why… why would she do such a thing….

Leaving the man behind to play the role of the grief-stricken lover, Eve turned to handle the butler.

—Redgrave, the Dowager Duchess has been bedridden with a severe flu.

—Yes, I understand, my Lady.

—Under the guise of quarantine, let no one enter except the Doctor. Especially not the Duke. Now, go prepare breakfast. Exactly as usual, as if nothing has happened.

The moment the door closed behind the retreating butler, the atmosphere in the room shifted violently. Owen fell to his knees before his master could even issue a command.

—I-I am sorry, Master.

He reached his trembling hands toward Eve’s feet, begging for mercy, but what he received was punishment.

—Ugh!

The heel of Eve’s shoe ground into the back of his hand without mercy. For the first time, Owen did not find the bone-twisting pain pleasurable.

—Useless wretch.

He feared his master might simply crush him like a bug and walk away.

—You couldn’t even handle this one simple task? Or did you choose not to? Do you still have lingering feelings for that woman? Do you enjoy living as a man inferior to Ethan?

—It’s unfair to say that! It was… it was a lethal dose enough to bring down an elephant. I never imagined she would still be breathing….

Eve clicked her tongue and looked back at the woman who, in a body much smaller than an elephant’s, had somehow survived a lethal dose.

—What a disgusting tenacity for life.

—Don’t worry, my Lady. She won’t wake up. In fact, if left like this, she will naturally stop breathing within two days.

—Are you certain?

—I-if she doesn’t die, I will kill her again. Properly this time….

Reading the distrust in Eve’s dry gaze, Owen clung desperately to the foot that was crushing his hand.

—S-so please, spare the child.

She kicked his swollen hand away and let out a cold, hollow laugh.

—Don’t worry. The child won’t die.

As she watched relief wash over the fanatic’s face, Eve silently finished her revelation.

Because the one who was meant to die from the start was you.

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The first storm of winter was poised to strike. The fierce sea wind howled along the coastal cliffs, threatening to swallow everything in its path. Even the wall of cypress trees couldn’t block the gusts as they battered the walls of White Cliff Hall.

Rattle. Clatter.

Eve looked at the windows, shaking as if they were about to shatter, and thought they were a mirror of her own situation. She felt as though she were standing on fragile glass that could splinter at any second. The fear of being sucked into the abyss beneath her feet resonated with the storm raging outside.

Yet the child, his cheeks flushed rosy from the warmth of the fireplace, was peaceful—as if the raging storm were none of his concern.

He had every reason to be. Tony was the eye of this massive hurricane. Eve had stirred up a blood-red gale around him, all to protect this child standing at its center.

—It’s your turn, Eve.

—I know.

At Tony’s urging, she withdrew her gaze from the window and laid two cards on the table.

—Hmm… in that case….

Behind the child, who was deep in thought, a pair of black, polished combat boots approached silently. Eve’s face hardened. She despised the fact that their quiet time was being trampled by those boots.

She didn’t even want to grant the intruder a glance. She didn’t look up to acknowledge him. In the meantime, the child finished his deliberation and placed a card on the table.

It was the Six of Hearts.

Suddenly, she thought the card resembled Tony. If these were Tarot cards, it would be the Six of Cups—the symbol of carefree childhood innocence.

In a reading, it would be a good omen, but in this game, it was unfortunately bad luck. It meant Eve could lay down all her remaining cards and win this round.

The child, still clumsy with strategy, smiled proudly as if he had delivered a decisive blow. Seeing that smile, Eve swallowed the advice that had risen to the tip of her tongue. Instead of teaching him how to read an opponent’s hand and strike at their weakness, she decided to be the loser who surrendered willingly.

—So, you played the Six of Hearts…?

Just as she was pretending to struggle and reaching for a card that was far from a winning play, a man cast a dark shadow over the table and reached over the child’s shoulder.

—Kid, you should have played the Seven of Spades there.

In an instant, Eve froze. It wasn’t just because a man who didn’t even know this game had read the flow perfectly.

It was because of what the Seven of Spades symbolized in divination.

The Seven of Swords.

Deception, betrayal, and a secret flight.

‘Are you warning me that you know I’m planning to stab you in the back and run?’

It felt like he was looking straight into the other gamble she was playing—the one where she staked everything—and sending her a warning. It made her skin crawl.

No. It can’t be.

She told herself again: this was just a winning move for Tony in a simple game. Eve shook off her wild suspicions and looked down at the cards in her hand.

Meanwhile, Ethan dragged over a chair and sat down boldly next to Tony. He seemed intent on coaching the boy properly.

—What are the stakes?

—Do we have to bet something?

Tony spat out the words Eve had wanted to say. He was incredibly dependable.

—It’s already fun enough.

Despite his sharp tone, the child looked much more excited than he had moments ago. Eve swallowed a heavy sigh.

I have to make him stop liking that man.

The child’s carefree innocence was now a source of worry.

—It’s more fun when there’s a prize. The loser has to grant the winner’s wish, or maybe… confess a secret.

Eve’s hand, which had been about to draw a card, stopped. She looked up, and as expected, Ethan was staring directly at her, as if trying to excavate her soul. His message was clear.

He’s digging a shallow trench to unearth my secret.

He wants to know for sure if I’m carrying his child.

That man had undoubtedly spent the last few days prying into her doctor and her surroundings, desperate for proof of her pregnancy. When no evidence surfaced, had he decided to harass the only person who held the answer?

—You can’t change the rules in the middle of a game. If you want to bet, do it in the next round.

Ethan backed down easily. He mistakenly believed Eve had taken the bait and fallen for his obvious ploy.

How childish. Driven by the single-minded goal of digging up her secret, he teamed up with a child to attack Eve relentlessly. When Tony glanced at Eve and tilted his cards to show Ethan his hand, Ethan used his chin to point out exactly which card to play. It was infuriating to see how perfectly in sync they were, as if performing a two-man secret operation without saying a word.

The result was a total defeat for Eve. However, the one who truly tasted the bitterness of loss and had to leave empty-handed was the winner, Ethan. Because before the next round—the one with the stakes—could begin, his opponent feigned an illness and overturned the board.

—Ah… I feel dizzy. I’m sorry, but I need to lie down for a moment.

Eve stood up, purposely letting the strength leave her legs so she staggered. Even though she hadn’t asked for help, Ethan was quick to catch her.

The way this man, a thug to his core, pretended to be a gentleman was utterly loathsome.

Eve shoved his hand away coldly and reached out to the child.

—Tony, would you help me to my bedroom?

—Of course!

Tony rushed over like a knight filled with a sense of duty and supported her.

—Thank you.

Eve wrapped her arm around the child’s sturdy shoulder, but she was holding onto him rather than leaning on him. She couldn’t leave her little lamb alone with that greedy wolf. She led the child out of the living room under a reasonable pretext, but the wolf followed them tenaciously, driving them into a corner.

—Why are you dizzy? Now that I think about it, didn’t you retch at lunch, too?

—Wait… no way….

Tony’s footsteps came to a dead stop. The child’s face crumpled into an expression of distress as he looked up at Eve. The moment she saw the anxiety in those clear eyes, Eve’s heart sank.

Don’t tell me even you have realized I’m pregnant?