104

Dante strode down the hallway, pulling a cigarette case and matches from his pocket.

“Damn it…”

He cursed under his breath.

His mind was in chaos.

He felt like he couldn’t calm down unless he filled his lungs with cigarette smoke immediately.

But.

Scratch.

The match wouldn’t light properly.

After a couple of failed attempts, Dante angrily tossed the matchbox to the floor.

“Damn it!”

He pressed his hand against his forehead.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

He had thought that once Elze was by his side, the burning thirst that consumed him would finally subside.

That was why he had desperately searched for her and finally managed to bring her close.

But it was a mistake.

The woman who had always smiled gently now looked at him with a cold, emotionless gaze.

She showed clear signs of rejecting him.

‘You’re no longer needed.’

The moment she declared that, the thirst that had been gnawing at him swelled into something so large it threatened to devour him.

“It’s hell, really…”

Dante bit down hard on his lips until they bled, then looked down at his hands.

Just a moment ago.

Elze had been hanging dangerously from the window, her figure still vivid in his mind.

‘If I hadn’t caught her.’

‘If she had really fallen out of that window.’

Just imagining it drove him to the brink of madness.

He hadn’t felt this anxious or restless since he was seven years old, when his mother committed suicide right in front of him.

Dante had always lived with a clear purpose, achieving whatever goal he set his sights on.

And once he clawed his way up from the bottom and seized control of the underworld, life became much easier.

He had thought he could continue living without hesitation for the rest of his life…

“Darling.”

In the eerie quiet of the corridor, Dante’s confused mumbling echoed faintly.

“I really don’t know what to do with you…”

His voice was so fragile.

It was like that of a lost child who had let go of his mother’s hand in a crowd.

So desolate.

* * *

After that day, all the windows in my room were sealed shut.

Boards were nailed over them, rendering them completely inoperable.

Any sharp, heavy, or potentially dangerous objects were removed from the room.

Soft, harmless items filled my surroundings.

Once again, I had become Dante’s pretty little doll.

“…”

I stared blankly at the maid in front of me.

She silently applied fragrant oil to my fingers, carefully massaging them.

The calluses I used to have on my hands when I ran the coffee house had long since disappeared.

The maids took great care of me, and there was no hard labor to do in this place.

…It was a reminder of just how long I’d been trapped here.

But I wasn’t happy about it at all.

My sole role in this place was to wait for Dante, like a doll.

Everything, from the maids who moved as if they were my own limbs to the skincare and the fancy attire, was for one purpose.

To appear beautiful for Dante.

‘I feel suffocated.’

Knock, knock.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

Click.

The door opened, and a man stepped inside.

It was Dante.

“I greet the Marquis,” the maid quickly stood up and bowed to him.

But Dante didn’t spare her a glance.

His red eyes were fixed solely on me.

“…”

“…”

A tense silence filled the room like a blade.

“Leave.”

Dante gestured toward the door with his chin.

“Yes, Marquis.”

The maid bowed again and hurriedly left the room.

I fell into a brief moment of reminiscence.

I remembered when I used to work as a manager at the boarding school.

I had always been surprised that Dante would knock before entering my room.

…Now, I was so accustomed to his knock.

And I didn’t like it.

The more I became accustomed to his so-called “consideration,” and the more meeting him became routine, the more it felt like I was being dragged back to that time when I struggled not to fall in love with him.

“How’s your foot?”

Dante’s gaze fell on my feet, now wrapped in soft slippers.

“Yes, it’s healing well.”

In truth, though there were many small wounds, none were life-threatening.

Dante’s expression relaxed slightly, as if relieved.

“That’s good.”

“Is it really good?”

I curled my lips into a bitter smile.

It was a clear sneer.

“I was starting to think you’d rather I be unable to walk at all.”

I was mocking him for his obsession with preventing my escape.

But despite my sharp words, Dante neither got angry nor agitated.

He just silently stared at me for a long time with an unreadable expression.

After a moment, Dante suddenly asked me.

“Do you really hate me that much?”

“…”

For a moment, I was at a loss for words.

‘Do I… really hate Dante?’

It was a question I hadn’t considered for the past three years.

No, more accurately, it was something I hadn’t dared to think about.

Even though they were the feelings of the “original Elze,” the fact remained that a wild, obsessive affection for Dante still lingered within me.

And the more I tried to poke at that part of myself, the more confused I became.

So, I chose to ignore those feelings instead.

I buried them deep, where no one could reach them, and vowed never to think about them again.

Dante would eventually follow his path with the original female protagonist.

And I would follow my own path.

I thought I’d never have to dig up those troublesome feelings ever again…

‘Stop thinking about it.’

I clenched my teeth.

It felt like someone was relentlessly scraping my nerves with shards of glass.

Just a little more, and the tightly stretched string inside me would snap.

“Honestly, whether I like or hate you doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

At my words, Dante’s brows twitched.

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Isn’t it true?”

I met his gaze, forcing a calm expression.

“If my feelings were important to you, you wouldn’t have locked me up like this.”

“…”

Dante fell silent at my words.

After a long pause.

“You’re right.”

He agreed with me without protest.

“But what can I do? If I lose you, I feel like I’ll lose my mind.”

I looked at him with dry, weary eyes.

Dante held my gaze for a moment, then slowly turned his head away.

…As if my gaze was too heavy for him to bear.

“Tomorrow, Liam will come to see you.”

Liam.

Dante’s personal secretary.

The memory of drugging him with sleeping pills and running away felt like a lifetime ago.

Dante continued in a subdued voice.

“He’ll teach you about the assets of the Offenheir Marquisate, the hidden funds, the businesses I manage, and the hierarchy of the organization.”

“Why do I need to know that?”

“Because you’re going to be my wife.”

Dante’s tone was unwavering.

I thought coldly to myself.

‘This is unexpected.’

Marriage held a great deal of significance for Dante.

For one, he had vowed never to have a family.

He was inherently cynical about the concept of family.

And his distrust of marriage was even greater.

The only person he had ever wanted to become family with was the original female protagonist.

Yet… I felt no joy at all.

The fact that he would even use the sacred vow of marriage for his twisted doll game was simply laughable.

I replied flatly.

“I refuse.”

“I know. Of course you do.”

Dante’s face remained expressionless, as if he had already anticipated my rejection.

“But that doesn’t matter in the slightest.”

His voice turned icy.

“Whether you want it or not… you will become the mistress of the Offenheir household.”

* * *

The next day.

I met Liam for the first time in a long while.

“It’s been a while, Lady Elze.”

Liam greeted me politely.

Considering the trouble I’d caused by drugging him and escaping, I had expected him to harbor some resentment.

Surprisingly, there was none of that in his expression.

Instead.

“…You’ve grown quite pale.”

There was a faint hint of pity in Liam’s voice.

I responded with a blank expression.

“I would have preferred not to meet you under these circumstances.”