WPFAMT-69

At Enrico’s brief reply, the two people’s gazes fixed on him.

“I came because I have something to say, so my nephew should leave first. Emilia, don’t you have anything to say to me?”

There was indeed a lot she wanted to say. Why he hadn’t shown himself all this time, whether that kiss truly meant nothing more than a lighthearted game, and whether he knew about the rumors surrounding them.

Though the first would be difficult to ask, Emilia thought she should at least talk to Enrico about the rumors, so she nodded once.

“Your Highness, I apologize. Regarding the rumors you mentioned earlier, I believe I need to speak directly with the person involved. I humbly ask for your understanding.”

A slight tremble flickered under Alessandro’s eye. Although the corners of his mouth were raised in a rigid smile, his gaze toward Enrico was cold.

“I understand. Rather, I am relieved that you are overlooking my rudeness today. Then, I shall take my leave.”

He was certainly courteous, but for some reason, he left a strange, unsettling feeling.

Emilia watched Alessandro’s retreating figure, surprisingly neat in his departure, and then lifted her head as her vision darkened.

“Stop watching and go inside.”

Seeing Enrico standing right in front of her nose, she let out a small sigh. Feeling frustrated, wondering how much he would try to provoke her again today, she began to grow worried about her heart, which was starting to tremble at the sudden closeness.

* * *

Emilia stared intently at the steaming teacup, then curiously looked at Enrico, who was sipping it slowly.

Though she had known him for several months, he had usually only drunk wine or water. This was the first time she had seen him drink tea—hot tea, at that.

With raindrops sliding down the window behind him, he sat back leisurely, savoring the tea like a scene from a painting. His delicately lowered lashes lifted the moment the teacup touched the table.

“You’re staring a hole through me.”

“Oh… It just feels like it’s been a while since I last saw you.”

“No need to meet often. It’s not like you’re in any condition to dance.”

Since they had parted on bad terms after the kiss, Emilia’s softened heart quickly cooled at his comment.

Was he drawing a line, implying that there’s no point in seeing her if she couldn’t dance? The value he so often spoke of must have hit rock bottom by now.

“How’s your body?”

“It’s fine. I plan to start practice next week.”

“That soon?”

He raised one eyebrow.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“When did I say that?”

Even though he had just implied it, he was now pretending he hadn’t. His shameless reply made Emilia press her lips together.

“So, your answer?”

“If not, then I guess I misunderstood.”

Enrico’s eyes narrowed subtly. Whether he was suspicious or contemplating digging deeper, Emilia could only fidget with the teacup and lower her gaze.

The ticking of the clock and the sound of wind filled the silence.

“…What are you planning to do now? I don’t care, but haven’t you always been cautious about rumors?”

He finally relaxed his expression and gently ran his fingers along the rim of the teacup. Her gaze, fixed on his long fingers, slowly traced up his arm to his face.

“Yes. But it’s just whispers so far—nothing concrete. I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to come to my estate for now. I’ll send the doctor instead. Have you had your ankle examined?”

“No need. The medicine you gave is enough if I apply it properly.”

“I think there is a problem. I’ve told you several times to get it checked.”

Enrico tilted his head slightly. His voice was languid, but his sharp gaze swept over her.

“At this point, it feels like you’re deliberately avoiding the examination.”

Her jade-colored eyes trembled slightly for a moment. Emilia raised the cup and took a slow,
careful sip, as if to savor it.

“That’s not true. I just know my body best—that’s all.”

“Such complacency could cause problems later. Isn’t your body your greatest asset?”

Now it’s not just about value but about being an asset? While it’s not unusual to say a ballerina’s body is her asset, the way Enrico said it felt different.

To him, everything was reduced to an object’s worth.

Besides, talking to him wouldn’t fix the rumors. She should’ve just sent him away with

Alessandro. Emilia regretted it and pushed the teacup forward.

“Alright. I’ll be careful. So, I’ll take it that I won’t be going to your estate for the time being. I’d appreciate it if you left now.”

“You’re acting like you’re kicking out an uninvited guest.”

“Not at all. I just thought, since I don’t have a plan, there’s no need to invite you in either.”

Her flat voice made Enrico smirk.

“Then do you regret letting *him* in? Into the house I gave you?”

Now he’s taking credit for the house, too. With every move, he became more insufferable.

Emilia’s expression turned cold like his.

“That’s quite a leap.”

“Doesn’t feel like one. Almost seems like you let your true feelings slip.”

“Your Grace.”

“You think I’d just sit by while some other man comes here?”

“…I never asked for this house. You forced it on me. If I had known you’d try to control every
little thing, I would’ve refused no matter what!”

“Would you have, really? You never had a choice to begin with.”

“If I had known what kind of contract this would turn into, I wouldn’t have agreed in the first place. I didn’t wager my body—I staked myself as a ballerina. Sigh… There’s no point continuing this. We’ll only end up hurting each other.”

Emilia was growing weary of the repeated arguments. She pressed her forehead, took a deep breath, then abruptly stood and walked toward the front door.

Enrico stood up and followed her.

Before she could reach the door, a hand grabbed her wrist. Her body was pulled back, turning
her toward him and into his chest.

“So what now? You’ve gathered enough evidence, and now you think it’s time to break the contract?”

She instinctively braced herself against his chest and tried to push him away, shaking her arm.

“Let go of me!”

“I’ll never be the one to break it. You really think I’d go along with your wishes?”

He whispered roughly, provoking her. Her wrist was pulled again, and his face came dangerously close as her head tilted up.

“You’re mine. I always take what I want.”

It was as if he was desperate to hurt her.

“I told you—I’m not an object!”

“Even if you’re not, the contract you made already treats you like one. Someone precious? What does that matter? Isn’t what’s right in front of you all that really counts?”

“And what the hell does that even mean to you? It’s just a fleeting interest! Just like those art pieces you buy and never look at again—I’ll be one of those things you quickly grow bored of. Do you have to make me feel this miserable?”

After months of watching him, Emilia had come to understand Enrico’s habits.

He would replace the old art in his estate with new pieces bought from exhibitions.

But once they were installed, he never looked at them again. As if simply owning them was enough.

“Guess just looking isn’t enough to satisfy me.”

He whispered in a voice so low it was barely audible, lips curled into a smirk.

Her hands, which had been pushing him, now clutched his shirt hem and trembled.

“So if I have your body, I’ll know for sure. What do you think?”

Smack. A sharp slap turned his head slightly.

TL/N: YESSSS. THAT’S MY GIRL. DESERVED.

The hand that had gripped his shirt now hung in the air, red from the impact. She clenched it into a trembling fist and blinked rapidly.

Her breath came out in harsh gasps, emotion erupting all at once—her face a mix of shock and rage.

His head slowly turned back. The laughter had vanished from his violet eyes, and in them was reflected her face—on the verge of tears.

“…If you want to break the contract, then do it. But don’t even try unless you’re ready for the consequences.”

His eyes were filled with a dark, sticky desire. As if this was all he could do—drive her into a corner.

Emilia shut her eyes tightly.

Tears that had been hanging at the edge spilled over her cheeks and dropped to the floor.

The grip on her wrist loosened, and a hand cradled the back of her head.

Hot lips touched the tear-streaked path on her cheek. Her tears soaked into his lips.

“I’m never letting you go.”

Soon, all warmth vanished. A faint breeze brushed against her, followed by receding footsteps.

Her eyelashes trembled and lifted.

Silence enveloped the room. There was no one left.

* * * *

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