Chapter 98
No. At the very least, she had to say that it wasn’t the complete truth—that he was misunderstanding everything.
It was ridiculous. He had only helped her. Back then, he had merely pretended to buy the train ticket. Even if her explanation sounded disjointed, she had to say something.
…But would he believe her? This man? The thought struck Riena like a sudden chill.
After several attempts, she gave up. He had already drawn his conclusions and was pressing her relentlessly.
Perhaps it was better to let things lie. Speaking carelessly could put Henry in danger unnecessarily.
Even if Dante Venachert misunderstood her.
Riena pressed her lips tightly and lowered her head. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.
She was scared. She knew, without looking, exactly how he must be seeing her.
“Riena.”
The voice came again, coaxing, from above. But this time…
“Say something. If you don’t answer, all this nonsense becomes true.”
There was a sharp edge in his tone now, almost a trembling undercurrent to the low, controlled voice.
“That you and Bailey are more than just acquaintances.”
“…I’m sorry.”
Was that really the proper response? Was an apology even appropriate? The thought flashed, only to be washed away instantly by fear.
Yet that seemed to suffice for Dante.
“So it’s true, then.”
“….”
“Now I understand why you left me.”
Her mind flashed back to the night she had demanded a divorce.
She had quietly endured until then, only to betray him without warning. And the reason… was just this—
Dante couldn’t contain a bitter laugh.
He crumpled the remaining telegrams in his hand.
“A kind husband, hometown, inn…”
He glanced briefly, muttering to himself, as if reciting the fictions of a novel. The seemingly trivial, mundane details he had dismissed—all of it was true.
Dante’s gaze returned to Riena, still hunched and avoiding him. He spoke slowly, deliberately.
“What did you mean by being pregnant?”
Even as the words left his mouth, the anger rose naturally. He didn’t utter a curse, but his blazing gaze seemed to sear her.
Startled, Riena lifted her head. Trembling, she shook it weakly, her face pale.
But this alone wasn’t enough.
Dante gritted his teeth and grabbed her shoulders forcefully. The sudden pain stole even a whimper from her. His golden eyes, up close, looked exactly like the gaze of a furious predator.
“Answer me properly. If you were pregnant then, you would have given birth by now. Where is the child? Or did you miscarry?”
If she had been pregnant, it certainly wouldn’t have been his child. That undeniable fact churned her insides violently.
Dante’s usually measured tone became rapid, his questions hitting her like thunder.
Riena swallowed hard, shaking her head. She opened her mouth with trembling resolve.
“No… I was never… pregnant.”
Her voice quivered with each word. Dante, staring down at her silently, twisted a corner of his lips in a brief smirk.
“Of all of this… that’s all you want me to believe?”
His golden eyes blazed with suspicion and disbelief.
Riena’s eyes trembled violently. She shook her head again, more firmly this time.
“Really, truly, it’s not true. Please believe me, Your Highness. It was just an act. I needed the train ticket…”
Dante’s gaze bored into her relentlessly, as if seeing through every part of her. Her face had gone paper-white.
Yet he felt no pity. Instead…
His hand gripping her shoulder trembled lightly. After a moment, he released her and slowly straightened his posture.
For a brief moment, he just stared at her.
Then he opened the driver’s side door, got in, and placed his foot on the pedal with practiced ease.
***
His car vanished into the dust, leaving nothing behind.
As soon as it disappeared from view, Riena’s body crumpled to the ground.
Her legs gave out completely. Slumping to the floor, she gasped heavily.
It felt as though she had been submerged underwater for an eternity. She struggled to breathe, gasping repeatedly, her body trembling as if the blood had frozen. Her mind, drained of color, could barely form coherent thoughts.
‘How much does he know? Is he testing the limits of my patience?’
No, Riena didn’t even need to wonder. Now that Dante Venachert knew everything, how he had learned it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he knew, without exception, everything she had tried to hide.
She forced strength into her legs and slowly rose. At least he was directing his anger solely at her.
It was fortunate that he hadn’t misdirected it at Henry. The misunderstanding—that she had been meeting secretly with Henry—had to stay focused on her.
She could protect Henry by letting the misunderstanding stand.
Given Dante’s temperament, if his anger had been misdirected, nothing would have gone smoothly.
Better to let the misunderstanding persist. Even if she explained, it wouldn’t change anything. If she could shield Henry by keeping him in the background, then she had to.
Since the locals already believed she was Bailey’s lover, confirming that would protect him. After all, Dante and she were practically strangers. With eyes watching, he wouldn’t act immediately.
Riena exhaled a long breath and wiped her face dry. She finally felt she knew how to handle him.
***
Dante returned directly to the annex, not to the office, but to the master room.
Dante Venachert was often so absorbed in work that he stayed up late, yet it was rare for him to enter the master room at what was barely evening.
Standing in the center of the master room’s living area, he hesitated briefly, staring at the velvet sofa where Riena had been. Then he turned toward the bathroom.
He stripped off the suffocating suit, undone his watch and tie, and turned on the shower as usual. Hot water poured down, filling the room with steam.
Yet Dante still felt trapped. Pressing the temperature lever, cold water rushed forth.
As he stood under the torrent, brushing his wet blond hair from his face, he noticed something absurd. A dry laugh escaped him. His soaked shirt clung to his skin, and his pants were no better.
He never had a habit of showering fully clothed. Still, he brushed the water off his face and laughed quietly again, shaking his head.
“Haha.”
The laughter he had been holding back spilled forth. It wasn’t joyful, but the foul mood was unbearable without it.
Even the harsh, icy water couldn’t wash away that disgust entirely. At least it cooled the heat pressing on his head.
He had always thought he had her in his grasp. Yet it had been an illusion. She had never truly been his.
Even when they were married. Even in those fleeting moments by the sea, sharing a kiss—she had never belonged to him. Like always, she had been planning to leave.
For the first time, he regretted filing for annulment. He should have just divorced her. At least then, she would bear some of the mark he left behind.
Dante clenched his teeth, turning off the shower. Water stopped cascading over his head.
Irritated, he roughly brushed his damp hair back.
…But it wasn’t hopeless. His sharp instincts reminded him of one thing: Riena still liked him. She had liked him from the start. If he hadn’t been obsessed, it was undeniable.
She had hidden her feelings deliberately, and he had allowed her to do so.
That meant, in a sense, he still had his claim.
