🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter : 1
Warm sunlight streamed through the long window of the drawing room.
A thin curtain hung over it, but she could faintly see outside.
If she went out, a cool breeze would wrap around her whole body.
The weather was perfect. Ah, honestly…
“It’s the perfect day for a double suicide.”
She swiftly pulled out a palm-sized dagger hidden up her sleeve.
The blade was pointed at Cedric.
“Don’t move.”
Lauren brazenly pressed the dagger even closer to her own neck.
Her skin split, and blood trickled down.
It hurt like hell, but she suppressed the groan.
Her pale sky-blue dress darkened with blood.
At the same time, Cedric’s shirt collar began to stain red as well.
“You don’t want to die, right?”
“There is no one who wants to die.”
“…If you want to live, do as I say.”
The moment she checked outside the mansion, Cedric let out a hollow laugh.
People were swarming all over the tall iron gate.
Once they spotted Cedric, murmuring spread through the crowd.
He stepped out through the smashed window and looked around at the reporters.
“The reason I invited you all here is…”
“We’re getting married.”
Footsteps rustled behind him.
Lauren slipped out the broken window and stood beside him.
“This person and… I am.”
Cedric pointed at Lauren and ground his teeth.
She waved cheerfully in front of the shattered glass.
Silence fell.
Just moments ago the reporters had been clamoring, but now they were dead quiet.
“Well, does anyone have more questions?”
Lauren smiled brightly.
“Uh, that wound…”
One reporter timidly pointed at the long gash on Lauren’s neck.
“Oh, this?”
She wiped the dried blood with her hand.
“It’s nothing. We quarreled over wedding venue arrangements. In the end, we decided to go with my idea. We’re having a grand ceremony.”
That sparked an avalanche of questions.
“…Are you insane?” Cedric whispered.
“Insane? This is the safest place for me. I plan to stay forever—unless that’s a problem?”
Her smile was pure and innocent.
It took barely half a day for a paper bearing the headline
“Count Collins and His Mad Bride”
to spread through the capital.
The papers portrayed Lauren Bailey as an unhinged woman who would do anything to have a lavish wedding—but that was far from the truth.
Even a mad bride has her reasons.
About three weeks before the marriage announcement.
Under the pouring autumn sunlight, Lauren shaded her eyes with her hand.
Relying on the small shadow it gave her, she carefully walked forward.
In her hand, she held a letter from her father.
Her back was damp with sweat.
Ever since her family’s circumstances had collapsed, she had survived on only a few dresses through all four seasons. Most days she managed, but sudden heat like this was torture.
‘I didn’t see him for weeks, and now he sends just a letter…?’
Lauren clutched her dress.
Her mother had died early, and her father had become worse than a stranger.
Now he only saw her as a tool—something to use when convenient.
She’d received the letter the night before.
A sound outside drew her to the door, where a crumpled sheet lay on the doorstep.
Thinking it was a prank, she opened it—
and recognized the handwriting immediately.
Come before sunset.
A rough map was enclosed.
She recognized the route:
an illegal gambling den her father frequented these days.
Maybe he caused trouble again.
It wasn’t worry she felt—just resignation.
She had a bad feeling.
‘Come to think of it, he has been acting strange…’
He frequently exchanged mail with people from the gambling den.
The postcards always had a drawing: a two-headed spider.
The writing was nothing but friendly greetings—but since when did her father send friendly mail to anyone?
‘Please, let nothing be wrong.’
Lauren wiped her sweating forehead with her sleeve.
On her way there, she kept hoping her father wouldn’t be inside—
because if he’d taken on more debt, she would be the one to handle it.
Her goal in life was simple:
live quietly and peacefully.
No marriage, no fancy lifestyle.
Sell the useless mansion, pay the debts, and disappear.
But her father apparently had other plans.
Her neck tingled with dread.
Was he stirring up trouble again?
The road was familiar now.
A narrow alley leading into the entertainment district on the outskirts of the capital.
It was still bright afternoon, yet the alley bulged with noise.
A shell-game hustler moved cups swiftly outside an open tavern.
“You there, miss! Want to try your luck?”
Lauren quickened her steps.
Her worn shoes tapped the dirty pavement.
It looked like an ordinary market at a glance, but she knew corruption thickened the deeper you went—gambling, prostitution, opium, every rotting vice.
Further in.
Deeper still.
She stopped before a black signboard—no name, just the sign.
This was the illegal gambling house.
The first floor was dressed up like a regular bar,
but downstairs people wagered dozens—hundreds—of gold coins.
The crack in the window leaked acrid smoke.
Lauren inhaled deeply, braced herself, and entered.
Weaving through tables, she slipped through a curtain, revealing a door.
A man with shorn hair and a menacing face blocked her path from his chair.
He looked her up and down.
“Go on in.”
Curt and bored.
A lookout for police raids.
If you didn’t look suspicious, they let you in—
and Lauren passed easily.
She descended the stairs.
‘Let him be here.’
It was small for an illegal den, but the employees still wore suits to look legitimate.
The moment she entered, a lanky man swooped toward her.
“First time here? Don’t be nervous. I’ll show you how to exchange money for chips!”
“No, I… I’m not here to gamble.”
“Is that so? Hmm…
Well, if you’re not gambling, you need to leave. Don’t kill the mood.”
His voice sank; his posture turned sideways and threatening.
But Lauren simply shrugged.
“I won’t take long. I was told someone needed money, so I brought it. I’ll pass it along and leave.”
The lie slid from her tongue effortlessly.
Growing up like a weed had taught her improvisation.
He eyed her suspiciously, then stepped back—
deciding she must be some lovesick errand girl.
“Fine. Make it quick. Maybe grab a game while you’re here.”
“We’ll see. If I have time.”
Tables packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
Dealers weaving everywhere.
Lauren’s hazel eyes scanned restlessly.
No silhouette resembling her father.
If you sent a letter, at least stay put and wait.
She was about ready to give up when she spotted someone.
Oh—him!
A man entered her sight:
head wrapped in a cloth, huge scar across his face.
Lauren recognized him.
I saw him with Father a few weeks ago.
She had been half asleep when she wandered into the hall one dawn and overheard voices.
From afar, she saw her father speaking with this scarred man.
She couldn’t be certain then,
but now she had to ask.
Lauren strode toward him.
He sat at a round table, cards spread out, engrossed in the game.
Four players.
The atmosphere was tense.
Lauren swallowed.
“Um—excuse me…”
Just as she opened her mouth, the unexpected happened.
The black-haired man sitting beside the scarred one suddenly wrapped an arm around Lauren’s waist and yanked her onto his side.
It was so sudden she couldn’t even scream.
Through her dress she felt the hard muscle of his thigh beneath her.
