Chapter 53
If she could, she would have rather fainted right then and there. Emotions she couldn’t name stormed through her chest and head like a violent gale.
It felt as if she’d been swept away by a raging tide, her stomach roiling, her tear-swollen eyes stinging. The feverish heat in her head made her vision blur, the world spinning around her.
Riena’s lips parted and closed again, over and over, unable to form words. She hated him—hated that this man was standing before her once more.
“Why? Even looking at my face makes you angry?”
His even, flat voice jabbed at her like a mocking blade.
“Then close your eyes. I’ll just open the door and leave.”
As if he’d read her mind, Dante spoke calmly, his gaze sweeping over her tear-soaked face, unreadable in its depths.
Her eyes, still streaming with tears, closed slowly.
Dante clenched his teeth in silence. The golden light in his eyes dulled, sinking cold and heavy as he stared at her face turned away from him without hesitation.
He moved again, his long strides carrying him swiftly to the front gate.
From inside his vest, he drew a key. The newly installed lock turned smoothly without a single metallic scrape.
Click.
With practiced ease, he pushed open the door. Then he stepped back, his voice cutting the late spring night like ice.
“It’s open. Go.”
Riena’s eyes fluttered open. Her tear-worn lashes clung together, her swollen eyes burning red.
So. He really found her that detestable.
Dante bit his tongue hard, but just as he turned to leave, a trembling voice brushed against his ear.
“…I’ll go.”
Her voice wavered, thin but resolute.
“I’ll leave. I’ll go so Your Highness won’t have to be angry anymore.”
Her fingers twitched as if in habit, clasping tightly together as she lowered her gaze.
“You hate me so much. You said it yourself. You said you wanted me gone from your sight. So I—”
“So you’ll just disappear on your own?”
“…Your Highness.”
“Hah. Riena… you really think you’re anything to me, don’t you?”
His voice dropped low, heavy with sudden fury.
“Yes, I do despise you. When I think of how you deceived me, how you hid yourself from my eyes and lived in laughter in a place like this—it makes my blood boil.”
The golden fire in his eyes blazed, sharp and furious, his words a snarl.
“…Then I’ll never appear before you again. Just… let me go. Like you did a year ago.”
“Let you go?” Dante laughed bitterly.
“I threw you away, Riena. I discarded you.”
Her lips clamped shut.
“You were worth no more than a single sheet of paper to me. That title you gained—nothing but a scrap of a contract, an empty promise.”
The meaning was clear: she was worthless.
Of course, Riena had always known that. She’d left precisely because of it. She couldn’t possibly have forgotten… and yet…
She bit back the tears threatening to fall again.
“…Then throw me away again. That’s all I ask, Your Highness.”
“And why would I?”
Dante arched a brow, irritation flickering at her words.
Discard her. It had been the choice he had turned over countless times in his mind. Useless pieces were meant to be thrown away—that was always his way.
He almost laughed aloud, but stopped himself. Because in truth, it hadn’t been her who was discarded that day. It had been him.
She had followed his way to the letter. And in her eyes, he had been the worthless piece.
His jaw clenched tight. After all, hadn’t she run? She had left him with words that she could endure no longer. She had faked her own death, hidden herself where he could never find her.
Yes. It was Dante who had been thrown away. And yet, this maddening woman still believed she had been the one abandoned.
He had no intention of correcting her. After all, she had discarded him once already. Once was enough to make twice easier.
But now that she was back in his hands, now that she had shaken his very core—he had no intention of ever letting her go again.
His mouth set hard. Misunderstanding, pretense, force—he didn’t care. Even if she was nothing but a useless card, he would still claim her.
“I’m not some fool prince or honor-obsessed noble. I’m a businessman. Do you really think I’d let go of a discarded piece that walked back into my hand on its own?”
“…”
“Your worth is mine to decide. Until then—don’t you dare speak of vanishing, or of being discarded.”
His cold, cutting tone sliced into her. His gaze raked over her like a blade.
Ah. Dante let out a sharp, humorless laugh, tugging at the corner of his lips in irritation.
“Don’t even dream of running. This time—I’ll catch you no matter what.”
—
He wanted to tear his hair out.
“…Haa.”
“Mr. Callis, is something wrong?”
“N-no. It’s nothing.”
“…I see.”
The manager narrowed his eyes at the odd reply. Anyone could see Callis was troubled.
Really, sitting in the middle of the lobby looking half-dead and sighing like his soul had left him—it wasn’t hard to guess who the cause was.
Clicking his tongue softly, the manager cleared his throat and shifted the subject.
“She said she would return today, didn’t she?”
“What? Really?”
Callis’s head snapped up, his eyes suddenly bright—before dimming again as he nodded weakly.
“Ah… Mayor Lester. Yes, he’s already here. He’s in the annex office, meeting with the master in private.”
That morning, after finishing his reports, Callis had found the mayor anxiously pacing the annex lobby.
He’d guided him inside—then returned to his sighs. Of all days, it had to be today.
The manager gave Callis a pitying look before quietly withdrawing. Working under a master was always exhausting—keeping up with their moods most of all.
—
Mayor Lester could feel sweat soaking through his back. He had expected this might happen, but facing the predator in person was another matter entirely.
Yesterday morning, he had heard the news that Miles had personally delivered a declaration to the resort.
At that moment, Lester had thought it was all over. Every benefit he’d received under false pretenses, every subsidy disguised under another’s name—all of it would now have to be returned.
Hot-tempered though Miles was, Lester had never imagined he would go so far as to rally a public protest. The moment he heard, he’d rushed desperately to the resort.
But Dante had already left. Only the resort’s manager remained, wearing a troubled expression as he explained the duke was away. Lester had fallen into despair, convinced Dante had gone to confront Miles directly.
He’d spent the day in panic until, finally, Callis had summoned him again for the following morning.
And now—now he sat across from the duke himself. His sharp features were colder than ever, as though he might freeze the very air around him.
It had been nearly a month since their last meeting, the night of the banquet.
“Sit.”
Dante lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, fingers drumming idly against the armrest. His golden eyes fixed on Lester as he spoke, no greeting, no warmth.
Lester swallowed hard and slowly obeyed, lowering himself onto the seat opposite.
Everything about Dante was different from a month ago. Then, he had been proper, polite. Now his gaze and his voice carried the weight of authority, the chill of a royal.
Sweat slicked Lester’s palms as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“I’m not in the mood for tea or pleasantries. You’ll forgive the lack of hospitality.”
“N-no, of course not! I’m grateful enough that Your Highness agreed to see me at all.”
Dante’s voice was ice. His golden eyes, once bored and arrogant, now gleamed with lethal sharpness, as though they might kill a man on the spot.
The oppressive silence dragged on until Dante finally spoke.
“Mayor Lester.”
His voice split the air like a blade.
“You’re the one who came to me. And yet, it seems I’m the one who has something to say.”
“Y-yes, Your Highness. Please, speak freely.”
“I find myself… troubled. Amused, even. This sort of thing has never happened before.”
Lester shrank, already knowing what he meant.
“I-I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I never dreamed he would go so far, gathering signatures, issuing a declaration of opposition. I only heard after the fact, I swear—”
“Ah. After the fact.”
Dante’s lips curled in a cold smile. His eyes pierced into Lester’s.
“When did you learn of it?”
“…That he was gathering signatures—I heard it right away. But I never believed he would dare bring it directly to the resort, I swear I didn’t…”
“Mm. So this entire situation is the result of your misjudgment, then?”
Lester’s head jerked up, panic flickering in his eyes—before he quickly bowed again, shoulders slumping. Better the blame fall on him alone than anywhere else.
“Forgive me. Forgive me, Your Highness. It was my failure. I’ll take full responsibility for this disgraceful mess.”
Dante chuckled softly.
“Responsibility. A fine word. And how exactly do you intend to take it?”
His expression was calm, his tone almost casual—yet it felt like mockery, as if he were toying with the mayor.
Lester’s lips trembled as he forced out words.
“I… I’ll meet with Miles again. I’ll persuade him this time. Please—give me one more chance…”
Persuade. Dante’s patience thinned.
If Miles could be swayed by words, he would have been long ago. Persuasion sounded reasonable, diplomatic, but it was hollow. Weak. And weakness only invited humiliation.
“And if persuasion fails?” Dante’s gaze sharpened. “What then, Mayor? How will you take responsibility?”
“I… I…”
“Shall we say you resign your post—and leave Florian altogether?”
