To My First Love, With Regret - 75

The woman, her suspicions toward him already forgotten, finally left Owen behind—if only for a moment.

—Go to your bedroom right now and slap yourself. Until I return. And by the time I do, you’d better have turned back into my good, obedient little puppy.

Owen nodded like a loyal subject, but the moment Chantal turned her back, he stripped away the mask to reveal the insolent face of a traitor.

Trembling with anxiety over something as trivial as this. She truly is nothing more than a clown playing at being a queen.

Because she possessed no true sovereign authority, she tried to control his every move with the weak leash of ‘love’ rather than genuine dominion. Owen was exhausted by this meaningless tug-of-war. True mastery required no such mental gymnastics.

I could have left everything to my true Queen, resting comfortably in her cozy embrace…

If only you weren’t here, you vulgar clown.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

The place where Lady Evelyn summoned Ethan was the game room, now transformed into a makeshift gang hideout.

Unless their leader sought them out, his men never killed time here. Despite their depravity, there was something excessively noble about the atmosphere that made them feel out of place. Most were likely out in the entertainment district in their dress uniforms, having their fun with women charmed by the ‘hero’ act.

In the empty space abandoned by those chasing vulgar debauchery, Eve greeted him alone. Leaning against a billiard table with the light at her back, the only vivid thing about her was the glowing tip of the cigarette between her fingers.

Her intention for wanting to meet him privately was shrouded in smoke, much like her expression. Ethan’s stride toward her was as confident as a conqueror’s, but his eyes were those of a scout scanning for a tripwire.

—What exactly is it you want to talk about?

To go so far as to risk the scandal of a secret tryst with a man who wasn’t her husband—and in the game room of all places, a ‘pigsty’ in the middle of her own home that she usually avoided like the plague.

A poker chip, surely left behind by his men, crunched beneath his combat boot. Snap. The sound felt like a sneer at his own decision to walk into a gamble he was bound to lose. His intuition was screaming, but for Ethan, it was a bet he couldn’t pass up.

Be that as it may…

—I doubt My Lady called me here just to play a round of cards.

Eve removed the cigarette from her red lips, but no answer came. She toyed with the smoke in her mouth, swirling it with her tongue. Just as she had in the past, in the moments she used to seduce him.

But the fastidious Princess was hardly the type to try and seduce a man she’d already squeezed dry. It seemed far more plausible that she was looking to hire him to murder the new husband she’d already grown tired of.

Ethan mocked the foolish delusion that had plagued him since receiving that meaningful look on the stairs and closed the distance to his prey.

—Though secrets shared with a thug are usually predictable.

—Because this was the only way I could have the hero all to myself.

But Eve declared that Ethan was her only objective, boldly resting her hand over his heart. In that moment, he was seized by a sinister premonition that he wasn’t the hunter, but the prey that had walked into the trap on its own two feet.

Evelyn Sherwood, you have no reason to seduce me anymore.

It contradicted the Eve of now, who looked at him with the contempt one reserved for a crawling insect. Sensing there was something he didn’t know, Ethan couldn’t bring himself to grasp the golden opportunity even as it was offered.

—When I offered this body of mine freely, you said you didn’t want it. Now suddenly you have to have me all to yourself?

He couldn’t help but keep his guard up like a beast about to be slaughtered. He’d been through this before. She had seduced him first then, too; he had crumbled without a fight, and it had ended in a prison cell. Now, her seduction brought fear before pleasure.

What kind of trap is it this time? No matter what you try to frame me for, it won’t work anymore.

—Be honest. What are you up to?

Eve let out a dry laugh at his frozen face. Even when she offered the body he supposedly craved, he didn’t lunge for his belt; instead, he bristled with suspicion. She had pegged him as a beast whose intellect and conscience were entirely ruled by lust, but she was wrong. How disappointing.

Eve admitted that her sudden change of heart must look strange. There was no way Ethan could know her true motive, but it would be problematic if he sensed he was being used and fled. She had to dismantle that guard by playing the part of a fickle, impulsive, and suitably empty-headed noblewoman.

—Ah… I suppose you could call it a motive, of sorts.

Eve made an expression that suggested she found her own change of heart ridiculous, yet felt resentful for having to say such things to the man who had once abandoned her. Since it was partially true, the acting wasn’t difficult.

—When I thought you might not make it back alive… I realized I’d miss it.

But in Ethan’s eyes, she simply looked like a woman whose pride was stung by having to pick back up the man she’d once thrown away. Despite the perfect misunderstanding, Eve had successfully deceived him.

Of course. My Lady hasn’t changed her habits one bit.

The Princess who knew no restraint and had to have whatever she wanted was still there, treating the whole world as her playground.

Did that stain on your life—the one you erased out of shame—suddenly look valuable now that he’s returned as a hero everyone admires? I was a fool to love a social climber like you.

The current Ethan found this shameless, transparent greed even more disgusting than her past betrayal.

—Looking back… we were a good match, weren’t we?

Evelyn Sherwood, how dare you even speak of the past? How can you look at the toy you played with and discarded and mutter, ‘We had fun, didn’t we?’

This woman wasn’t a socialite. She was a devil. Evelyn Sherwood was more cruel than any demon Ethan had faced in the underworld.

I hope to God you aren’t suggesting we love again. You never truly loved me anyway.

Wickedly, Eve caressed the spot where his heart beat and whispered with cunning sweetness.

—The ‘no strings attached’ relationship you mentioned—won’t you show me what that’s like?

Ethan felt a surge of self-mockery for being so defensive. Eve only wanted his body.

Even though his enemy was opening the path to his ‘goal’ with her own hands, Ethan didn’t feel the thrill of a victor. Instead, he felt himself falling into a void.

You crazy bastard, what did you expect?

Had he hoped she would genuinely fall in love this time? Perhaps he had secretly wanted to see her groveling for forgiveness, bitterly regretting how she’d abandoned him.

But Evelyn Sherwood was a shallower woman than the depths he thought he had already reached. And his own intelligence, for expecting sincerity from her again, was evidently at the same level.

The hand that had been resting on his chest slid slowly up his neck like a cold serpent. Perhaps thinking he was still the captive lamb she once knew, she reached fearlessly beneath his shirt collar to grip the nape of his neck. Eve gazed at him from a breath away, as if contemplating a kiss.

It was the exact same seduction from the day this ill-fated connection began. If he trampled over this wicked temptation—the very one that had once kicked his soaring life into the gutter—and abandoned her first this time, would this long-standing grudge finally be settled?

Ethan parted his firmly set lips. But instead of a contemptuous accusation, he only drew a deep breath.

Endure it. I have to endure. For the sake of my final revenge.

At least this time, I won’t fall for your trap. Because I’m the one who’s going to use you.

Had they truly become equals now, to the point where Lady Evelyn had to wait for his judgment? Instead of stealing his lips without asking, as she had in the past, she merely watched him with a quiet, hesitating gaze.

Ethan glared at her lips—red as if stained with someone else’s blood—and lowered his head. However, it wasn’t her lips he sought. He took the cigarette that was burning away uselessly between her fingers into his own mouth. He bit down on the exact spot marked with her vivid lipstick.

What now? I no longer crave your lips. Though, I suppose I can stomach the mark they left behind.

Had she realized it was a mockery, a woman of her fiery temperament would have shoved him away with a sharp, poisonous retort. But Eve only watched him smoke her cigarette with empty, thoughtless eyes.

Then you surely won’t realize this is the prologue to your downfall. I wonder what face you’ll make when you realize you’ve been used by me.

The mere imagination of it made his blood boil with thrill. Looking up, Ethan toyed with the smoke in his mouth just as Eve had done, his lips twisting into a smirk. It was the smile he wore whenever he began his revenge.

—I’ll be more than happy to show you.

Just as Eve began to feel uneasy because Ethan hadn’t softened his hardened expression despite her provocation, he laughed. He looked like a man beholding the most ecstatic sight in the world. He was looking at her.

Thump.

The ground beneath Eve’s feet seemed to give way. Even though she wasn’t in a cage falling vertically through the air.

Eve took a slow breath to soothe her churning stomach. Although that smile was wreaking havoc on her heart, logically, she welcomed it.

Ethan had fallen for the seduction, yet he hadn’t kissed her. No matter how much she wore the skin of his first love, she had no desire to kiss a monster….

Ha. What a relief.