Chapter 231

“It was already battered even before you hit me. Who do you think was behind it? It isn’t because I fell off the terrace and crashed into the ground, like the rumors say. It was Duke Mayhard.”

Hunns continued making his claims desperately. His voice gradually grew louder out of the injustice he felt at the situation.

“That wench Yelena was the one who lured me into the terrace in the first place! Then, her husband appeared and they pinned all the blame on me…”

“The investigation has already concluded.”

“Pardon?”

“The investigation is over, you son of a bitch.”

Count Pherson glared with gleaming eyes, suppressing his anger.

“You said that Duke and Duchess Mayhard arrived at the party while you were away and it wasn’t until after you came back way later that you found out?”

“Well, that…”

“Those two had already moved to the terrace by then. And Duke Mayhard had already been summoned by the crown prince.”

“Father, please listen…”

“Several people witnessed you bribing a servant to find out where Duchess Mayhard was waiting alone.”

“…”

“You trashy bastard!”

“Ack!”

Hunns rolled over after being kicked again in the same spot that had already been kicked before, of all places.

“I didn’t say anything about your pathetic habit of only dating married women.”

Count Pherson took off his obstructive ring. He picked his marble plaque up off the floor.

“I thought you’d at least choose people who wouldn’t cause problems and that you’d be able to handle things on your own.”

“F-Father.”

“But… you caused an incident at the Crown Princess’s party?”

A shadow came over Hunns. He shuffled backwards on his butt in fear.

“Father, I’m sorr…”

“And you messed with Duchess Mayhard of all people.

Count Pherson scoffed.

When he was younger, he had been a military officer. He was now a diplomat and businessman. He knew more about Duke Mayhard than others, who were only interested in the gossip that circulated among the nobles.

Count Pherson, whose face was usually mullish and stoic, sneered.

“This won’t do. I’m going to beat you to death and send your body to the ducal fief. That’s the only way to salvage myself and my family. Come here.”

“F-Father! I’m sorry! Please spare me! Please… Agh!”

Sounds of thudding were heard from Count Pherson’s study all night long.

***

Yelena felt incredibly refreshed,

She had beaten Hunns to the punch and spread rumors before he could…

‘And to think that he was the jerk from the festival…’

Yelena had found out that Hunns had been the one who had put her and her husband in an awkward position at a festival they had attended in the past.

Yelena recalled her memories and tried comparing the masked man from the festival with Hunns. Their voices, build, and offensive eye-smiles all matched.

At the festival, the masked man had appeared to be having an affair with a married woman, which further supported Yelena’s theory that he had been Hunns. Now, there was no doubt that it was true.

On top of that, Hunns had said something about letters on the terrace.

‘He was the one who sent those suspicious letters with unknown senders.’

At the masked festival, Hunns had left after telling Yelena that he’d contact her. The letters that were sent to her afterward, without the sender’s name, must have been said contact.

“Whew, how refreshing.”

Back then, Yelena had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t let the man she had met at the festival off the hook if she ever met him again. She couldn’t believe that it had actually come true. Yelena couldn’t help but feel refreshed, like she had pulled out a rotten tooth.

Yelena recalled the letter of apology that Count Pherson had personally handwritten to her.

There was to be no bad blood with Count Pherson over the Hunns incident. The count was a pragmatic personage, and he had chosen to punish his childish fourth son thoroughly rather than sour relations with the duke.

Yelena recalled the letter’s detailed description of how Hunns had been beaten to a pulp like a beast. She beamed.

“I think Hunns has been fully dealt with. Now all that’s left…”

Yelena’s eyes twinkled inside her quiet bedroom.

Just then, someone knocked on her door as if they were waiting for the right timing. The door opened.

“Yelen…”

Before he could even finish calling her name, Yelena took Kaywhin’s wrist and led him to the bed.

Flop!

Her force was weak enough to be easily ignored, but Kaywhin followed without any resistance, falling on the bed.

Then, Yelena climbed on top of him, squeezing her husband’s firm waist with her thighs.

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