To My First Love, With Regret - 67

—My baby! What are you doing over there?

Chantal appeared. For once, Eve was more than willing to accept the woman as her savior.

While calling out to the child, Chantal kept her gaze fixed on the man and woman. She wore the smile of a vacuous airhead, but her mind was a whirlwind of calculation.

‘Those two… they’ve been getting far too close lately.’

Eve was supposed to loathe Ethan Fairchild. There were more than enough reasons to justify it, and the specific motive Chantal had planted should still have been firmly rooted.

Chantal Garnier took pride in her uncanny talent for choosing the side that benefited her most. It was that very skill that had carried her from a prostitute catering to deviants, to a nurse, and finally to the position of the Duchess of Kentrell. Consequently, she was hyper-sensitive to anyone attempting to jump ship and leave her side.

Of course, while Chantal and Eve were in the same boat, they were hardly allies. But at the very least, Chantal had believed Evelyn Sherwood was on her side regarding Ethan Fairchild, surely Eve viewed that dangerous man as an enemy who threatened the very safety of their house.

That belief had been shaken by the public apology Eve had issued in the family’s name.

Was it a transaction to protect the house from an enemy? But what if it wasn’t?

Eve might be reconciling with her foe to forge a dangerous alliance. If another child were to be conceived between them, or if Ethan ever discovered Tony’s secret, Chantal would find herself penniless and stripped of her title as Dowager Duchess overnight.

It was already a headache trying to keep Tony away from his biological father; now she had to drive a wedge between these two as well. She had to act before things spiraled out of control. Turning her back to Ethan Fairchild, Chantal whispered into Eve’s ear:

—You certainly have a strong stomach, going on a date with the man who abandoned you while you were pregnant.

She had intentionally aimed for the most painful spot.

If the wound hadn’t healed yet, it would surely throb again.

In that moment, Eve’s cold eyes fixed on Chantal. A bruise-like ache spread through her gaze, but over it, fury ignited like a fierce flame. These were not the eyes of some fool falling back in love with the man who had discarded her.

So, she hasn’t become a slave to love again, ready to hand over her heart and soul to that man.

—My apologies. I truly thought it was a date.

If you don’t want people to get the wrong idea, keep your distance from him.

Chantal delivered one last light jab to the wound—a reminder to carry with her on whatever errand she was running—and turned away. Her heart felt significantly lighter. Now, only one task remained: separating her only trump card from the enemy.

—My sweet boy, your half-sister says she doesn’t enjoy playing with you—she says it’s just exhausting. But Mommy loves playing with her baby more than anything in the world. Shall Mommy buy you some toys at the department store?

She was acting the big spender, even though she would simply be charging it to the Kentrell account. Regardless, as long as the child was comforted, Eve didn’t care if Chantal scored points with Tony.

However, when Chantal reached for his hand, Tony coldly brushed her off and clung to Eve. Seeing that fraud rejected always sparked a twisted sense of joy in Eve—to say nothing of the satisfaction of the child following her as if she were his true mother.

Yet, that brief sense of victory was no reason to grant Tony’s wish. She still could not drag the child along on this perilous journey with a man whose true intentions were unknown.

Eve reluctantly pried the child’s hands from her waist and spoke to him with gentle firmness.

—Anthony Sherwood, shouldn’t you be the one to protect the Dukedom while I’m away?

Tony stopped throwing a tantrum. But who could have known that his sullen resignation would weigh more heavily on her heart than his usual noisy protests?

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After several train transfers and a long drive up winding mountain roads, they arrived at an abandoned mine. This place, which must have once teemed with the lives of hundreds, was now a ghost town—a cluster of skeletal buildings being slowly devoured by nature.

The moment she stepped out of the car, a damp, chilly draft wafting from the mine entrance sent a shiver through her body. It felt as if she were walking alive into a gaping tomb.

Ethan headed inside with practiced ease, but the unpaved dirt path was unforgiving to Eve’s heels. Just as she stumbled, the bodyguard walking beside her reached out an arm.

But Ethan’s hand was faster. He swatted the guard’s arm away and snatched Eve around the waist. She wanted to shove this thug—this man pretending to be a gentleman—away. She wanted to slap his face while she was at it. But if she slipped and broke a leg, she would be forced to let this loathsome man carry her out.

Eve tried her best to focus on the reality before her, fighting to ignore the searing consciousness of his touch against her waist.

—It’s a good place to bury someone.

Eve spat out the most accurate and biting impression she could think of for a gang leader, her voice laced with mockery.

—There’s no better place to quietly dispose of a woman who won’t listen. So, what’s the real reason you dragged me all the way here?

Ethan’s low chuckle echoed through the cold tunnel. It was a blatant sneer, as if he found her predictable imagination cute and, therefore, utterly beneath him.

—If I were going to bury you, I would have started by kidnapping you so there wouldn’t be any witnesses.

When she glared at him, he curled his eyes into a sly smile, as if it were all a joke.

—I told you, I have a gift for you.

—Did you prepare some coal for a naughty child?

—A nice thought, but unfortunately, this is a gold mine.

Trading daggers cloaked in unfunny jokes, the two reached a dilapidated elevator.

—Get in.

The moment Eve hesitated, unable to bring herself to step forward, Ethan arched an eyebrow.

‘Are you scared?’

As if answering that arrogant taunt, Eve turned her head away, lifted her chin defiantly, and stepped into the iron cage.

Clang. The barred door rattled shut, and the creaking cage began its descent into the darkness of the vertical shaft. Eve couldn’t tell if her trembling was due to the eerie metallic screeching echoing through the dark or the cold wind biting through the bars.

—Hold on to me.

Ethan pulled her into his embrace, using the excuse of steadying her in the swaying elevator. But it was closer to a full embrace.

His radiating warmth—a stark contrast to the frigid air of the mine—overwhelmed her. She was struggling against the revival of long-forgotten sensations when he whispered into her ear, his voice exactly as it had been back then.

—You’re cute when you’re scared. It reminds me of the day we went to the haunted house back when we were dating.

How dare he speak of those times—the times he had cruelly crushed like a cigarette butt and tossed away. And to do it with a smile, as if it were nothing. He was a devil without a shred of shame.

You remember the moment you protected me from a fake ghost, but you have no memory of the night you abandoned me in a dark field? Why did I ever love a man like this?

While resentment surged within her, Eve felt as if the ground had dropped out from under her feet at those words, sinking her deep into the memories she had carefully buried.

—Ethan, if you leave me behind, I’m really going to leave you for good.

—Do you think I’m crazy enough to leave you? Oh! Look! There it comes!

—Aah, no!

—The Lady even screams with such grace.

—Don’t tease me. Aaaaah, go away!

—Even the fact that the Lady is scared of something is cute.

Now, at an age where she knew living humans were scarier than ghosts, she would have laughed and enjoyed it, but back then, she was terrified of the ghosts constantly jumping out of the darkness.

—I think I should hand out tips to the ghosts.

—…Why?

—Thanks to them, the Princess is the one throwing herself into my arms first.

—What? Do you find my fear amusing?

Perhaps he felt Eve’s mood genuinely souring.

—The Lady’s revenge!

From then on, every time a ghost popped out, Ethan began to startle the ghosts instead. When one ran toward them with a grotesque shriek, Ethan would roar like a beast and charge right back at it. When a spider doll dropped from the ceiling, he would pummel it like a punching bag. Because of Ethan’s antics, Eve became breathless.

—Ethan, seriously, you, just, ha, you’re insane.

From laughing. Eventually, Eve completely forgot her fear and even began to look forward to the next ghost. In those days, Ethan was the knight who protected her and the magician who turned unpleasant moments into delightful memories.

Thump.

The floor swayed beneath her. The warmth pressing against her cowering body shook her heart.

Thump, thump.

Her heart raced violently.

Because she feared the fall.

To the very bottom, or toward this man.

Eve could not discern which plunge she feared more.

Either way, it was an abyss.

The rattling elevator finally came to a halt. When the iron gate opened, Eve could not believe her eyes.

Embedded in the middle of a massive rock wall was a heavy steel door, well over her height. It was the kind of vault door one would only encounter in the deepest basement of a bank, not in an abandoned mine like this. It was such a surreal sight that she couldn’t help but ask.