KMKS 19

chapter 19

After a suffocating silence, the lights came on. When Sarah blinked at the sudden brightness, the Duke of Winston’s persistent gaze finally shifted elsewhere.

His eyes moved to the figure striding down the corridor—Aidan, the master of the manor.

The encounter between the two men happened so quickly that Sarah completely forgot what the Duke had just said to her.

“What brings you here at this hour?”

One might have expected Aidan to be unsettled by the Duke’s late-night visit, yet he showed no such reaction.

To be precise, he wasn’t welcoming him in—he was merely making him stop.

Sarah, meanwhile, gripped the stair railing as she carefully descended, step by step. Each creak of the old wooden staircase echoed her anxious heart.

The floorboards groaned as though they might split apart, and the Duke’s expression twisted in irritation at the sound.

No one told her to hurry, but Sarah found herself quickening her pace down the stairs, unable to endure the tension.

The Duke of Winston was known in society as a gentleman, a noble who understood etiquette. Yet what business brought him here at such an hour? Even when Aidan had once been drowning in inferiority, the Duke had never bothered to come all the way to the manor.

“May I come in?”

Perhaps sensing a subtle defiance radiating from Aidan beneath the light, the Duke’s sharp nose sank into shadow.

The duke who had just been barking about poor hospitality seemed, for a moment, to lose some of his force.

But Sarah couldn’t forget the cold eyes that had looked down on her in the alley.

“Don’t think I’ll forget your insolence today.”

That memory had carved itself deep into her mind. She shivered as she recalled his unpleasant smile, his boots crushing fallen leaves.

And then, unbidden, the memory of burning his letters came back to her. The fact that he, like her husband, suffered from amnesia struck her all the harder.

Instinctively, Sarah lowered her head and hid behind Aidan. Though she had been eating better lately, she was still thin, and his frame easily shielded her.

Under the light, Aidan’s back loomed large. His pale, slender feet stood with difficulty on the wooden floor.

“I heard there was an accident on Harrington Street 17 the other day. This is my wife.”

“…Your wife? Ah, yes.”

The Duke let out a dry laugh, then directed his attention toward Sarah, who was hiding behind her husband.

“Lady Spencer cannot greet me herself?”

“…I doubt you came here just to receive my wife’s greetings.”

The air froze, Sarah’s feet rooted to the spot. The Duke gave a short, mirthless laugh before checking his watch and waving a hand.

“Of course not. Forgive the late intrusion, but I came to discuss the demolition of the Liera building.”

Since Aidan didn’t seem inclined to let him inside, the Duke revealed his purpose immediately.

What he held out was a contract. And there was nothing more tempting to Aidan than a contract.

The demolition of the Liera building had always been his greatest ambition. On the cleared land, he planned to build a theater to showcase rising stars.

If a theater opened in the heart of the city, not only would the crowds pour in, but the wealth Aidan so desperately sought would follow.

Most importantly, it would be his chance to surpass Leo Winston and rise as a powerful new entrepreneur. Unfortunately, such plans required the Duke’s approval.

For reasons unknown, in the past, the Duke had flatly refused.

“That damned bastard—!”

Back then, drunk and slurring, Aidan had cursed in frustration.

Unable to even stand straight, he’d staggered to his room, only for the sound of shattering glass to soon follow.

The expensive wine he had prepared to sweeten the deal became nothing more than a sacrifice to his rage, staining his shirt with purple blotches before being tossed into the trash.

Unable to contain his fury at being toyed with by the Duke, Aidan had fallen asleep amid shards of broken glass.

At the time, Sarah could only guess that there had been some principle in the contract that clashed with the Duke’s beliefs. He wouldn’t have refused without reason. Back then, he was still famed as a gentleman… though meeting him now proved otherwise.

“After such a long trip, what shall we do with this?”

This time, however, it was Aidan who drew a line.

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I know, this matter is already void. Your Grace.”

For the Duke to come here in person meant he was considering approving the demolition.

The contract still lacked his signature. One stroke of his pen would secure everything Aidan desired. Yet, strangely, Aidan seemed uninterested.

Unlike when he first appeared in the hall, he now looked as though he did not welcome the Duke at all.

It almost felt as if their positions had reversed.

“So, will you keep me standing here?”

The Duke crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his mouth twitching as though grinding his teeth.

“How dare you treat the great Duke of Winston like this!”

He was, despite appearances, a man who cared deeply about rank. No doubt he found it intolerable that a mere viscount should treat him so.

His gaze slid again to Sarah standing behind Aidan. She wanted to step back, but her feet were frozen.

Aidan noticed. He stepped forward, blocking the Duke’s line of sight with his body.

The Duke’s brows shot upward as he looked down at him.

“Very well, then. I have a new proposal. What do you say? Shall we reopen discussions?”

“Discussions…”

The Duke tapped the contract against his hand, considering. Yet no matter how he tried, he couldn’t pull his eyes from Sarah.

For all his size, Aidan stood there shielding her. It was laughable—against power, strength, and influence, what chance did he have?

And yet… the fact that Aidan stood his ground to protect her stirred the Duke’s own desire to possess.

Especially seeing Sarah trembling behind him.

“Interesting. Lead the way.”

A crooked smile brushed his lips.

And, to Sarah’s dismay, Aidan admitted him inside, despite the late hour.

She grabbed her husband’s sleeve in protest, shaking her head, sensing that misfortune loomed.

“Stay in your room, my lady.”

Aidan reassured her with a firm voice, his arm briefly around her shoulders. She could only watch as the two men walked down the long corridor into the study.

Sarah’s worry had nothing to do with whether the contract would succeed or fail.

Neither man remembered what had been said during their last negotiations.

What if, in pressing for details, Aidan revealed his memory loss?

Unable to sit still, Sarah paced the corridor. The path they had taken lay in total darkness. A new thought gnawed at her.

“…But what if it doesn’t matter?”

Why was she so afraid? So what if both men had lost their memories at the same time?

A chill ran through her—a feeling that some great hidden truth lay beneath it all. But she didn’t know what it was, and so she forced herself to breathe deeply.

“It’s fine.”

Even if they discovered each other’s memory loss while discussing the contract, nothing would change.

Aidan Spencer and Leo Winston—two separate men.

The door to Aidan’s study slammed shut, and silence once again filled the manor.

Would the two of them reach a positive agreement on the demolition of the Liera building?

Even before his memory loss, Sarah had never involved herself in her husband’s business. She hadn’t dared.

Perhaps now things might be different…

She went to the window at the end of the hall. A breeze slipped in through an imperfectly closed frame. The sky had turned bluish, heavy with the promise of rain, though the day had been clear.

Her mind drifted back to the lunch three days earlier. It already felt like a distant memory.

“Will I ever have such a moment again?”

She climbed the stairs. The creak of old wood echoed once more through the manor.

Back in her room, she lay down on the bed.

Sarah.

As soon as she closed her eyes, she thought she heard a deep voice she had never heard before calling her name.

When had anyone last spoken her name like that?

While the two men’s negotiations dragged on, Sarah tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Only after several hours did slumber finally take her.

Had she known it was the Duke of Winston who had spoken her name, she would have spent the night awake in terror.

She had never once given him her name.

And not long after, their negotiations broke down once more.

That night, unable to reconcile their differences, marked the first shot of coming misfortune.

And around that time, the nightmares that had long lain dormant began to torment Sarah again.