Cordelia’s reply came a beat late, prompting the head maid to provide a bit more context.

“The master said he would be attending, but I was asked to check if Madam might have another social engagement scheduled.”

At that moment, Cordelia had to try very hard not to let out a sigh of irritation. Of all times, why now—a summons from her in-laws?

A family dinner, no less?

Surely they had learned the real reason behind the Hastings family’s downfall. How hard must they have laughed, watching her try so earnestly to adapt without knowing a thing?

The thought made her want to lie and say she wasn’t feeling well—to turn her back on all of it.

She doubted she could bear to face even her father-in-law, whom she usually thought of kindly. And his subordinates, whom she’d never liked to begin with, would be unbearable.

Still, who knew? Just as she was formulating her own plan after her confrontation with Lucas, perhaps Lucas, too, was scheming something she didn’t yet know about.

‘If something were to happen behind my back, it’d be wiser to endure the discomfort than to stay ignorant.’

Swallowing her revulsion, Cordelia gave a soft, practiced smile.

“Understood, Elma. Please tell them I’ll attend as well.”

***

The couple’s home was only a ten-minute drive from her father-in-law’s mansion. But those ten minutes—brief as they were—felt like pure torment to Cordelia.

It was agony. Sitting side by side with her husband was too painful.

‘It brings back too many memories… too many.’

Back then, whenever the two rode together, conversation would flow naturally. Lucas, more talkative than she was, always started by pointing out something outside—suggesting they visit someday, or that she might like a particular place.

As the car passed a familiar restaurant they once visited together, Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut in anguish.

“How do you even know about a place like this, Lucas?”
“Because I thought, someday, I’d bring you here.”
“You’re probably the most skilled flirt in the entire New World.”

‘Forget it, Cordelia. It was all a lie.’

Just look at him now. She was the only one rattled inside—did he even feel the slightest discomfort in this silence?

‘No. Even after I found out, he doesn’t feel a shred of guilt. That’s why he’s so unaffected.’

To erase the futile memories of love, Cordelia forced herself to speak.

“Lucas… My father-in-law—he knows, doesn’t he? That you deliberately destroyed my family.”

“Is that something you’re curious about?”

“Yes. I need to know how to prepare myself when facing him.”

Lucas rested his arm on the window frame and smiled crookedly.

He had deliberately left her alone for a while to give her time to process the shock, but was this really the kind of question she was coming up with now?

Usually, people without blood ties or social standing would swallow their pride and beg not to be discarded. He’d seen that sort of grovelling for years.

That was why Cordelia’s response was so refreshing. Even after falling from grace, was she implying that she was different from those bottom-feeders?

But Lucas curled his lips into a twisted smile.

‘Lady, you’re no longer noble—so why act as if you’re made of something different?’

“The old man knew everything, madam, and he gave his blessing. Even the title of ‘daughter-in-law of a distinguished household’ is pleasant enough.”

“……”

He said it with a deliberately spiteful grin, trying to provoke her. But Cordelia’s face remained expressionless, her eyes fixed ahead.

Then Lucas noticed. The elegant wedding ring that had never left her left hand was missing today.

In that moment, a bitter wave of displeasure crept through him, causing him to narrow his eyes.

That ring, which he had placed on the noblewoman’s finger, had been his pride. It was also proof that he had clawed his way up from hell.

‘Damn. So this is how she’s choosing to rebel—quietly.’

Lucas clicked his tongue with sour amusement, but then Cordelia lowered her gaze and whispered softly.

“Will the Randolfs be attending today?”

“So I’m told.”

“He’s your rival, so I suppose he doesn’t know the full details. If he had, he’d have used the same method to get himself a bride.”

“That man lacks both guts and brains, so it wouldn’t have worked.”

Randolph Ober was Richard’s right-hand man. He was about ten years older than Lucas, had observed the business far longer, and had many loyal supporters.

But once Lucas suddenly appeared and started outshining him in business, the faction naturally split.
Since the successor had not yet been confirmed, the behind-the-scenes power struggle was intense.

Cordelia, too, found the man extremely unpleasant. There was a slyness in his eyes, and his large build gave off an oppressive aura.

But what if that man was also involved in criminal activity? What if the entire Duquesne family had built their wealth through such means from the beginning…?

Then perhaps she had never truly known anything about her husband’s family.

‘Ugh, my head is spinning.’

Randolph had married a baron’s daughter from the Old Continent a year before they did. Unlike Cordelia, whose family had fallen apart, that woman’s family was still thriving.

Cordelia, feeling a sense of injustice again, forced herself to look out of the window.

“At least Randolph has a shred of morality. Unlike you.”

“Hah!”

Lucas let out a sharp, derisive laugh at her veiled rebuke. Sometimes, Cordelia still spoke like a stern noble lady scolding her servants, preaching virtue as if it were her place.

There was a time when that tone hadn’t felt foreign. He even used to feign interest just to hear her scold him.

“Lucas, wouldn’t it be good for you to read this book while I’m speaking kindly? I chose it just for you.”

Of course, that woman had long forgotten those days. And now she acted as if she were innocent pretending not to know a thing, choosing Lucas Duquesne for his money.

“If Randolph has even a scrap of morality, then what do you have, Madam? Shame? Connections? I don’t recall you bringing a single useful dowry.”

“How could I, when you destroyed my family? How—”

“I may have pulled your family in, but it was your mother—your esteemed noble lady mother—who dumped everything into that investment without knowing the first thing about finance. Blame her for being mad with greed.”

Cordelia couldn’t defend her mother at that moment.

Even if it had all been a trap, her mother had never consulted her before pouring their entire fortune into the investment. And then she had escaped it all through death.

“And even if I did ruin your life, I’m still the one who saved you from being sold off to warm the bed of some withered old noble. Don’t forget that, Madam.”

As the headlights of the car illuminated the grand, familiar mansion ahead, Lucas finally averted his gaze from the frozen Cordelia and bit down on his lip. For once, he felt slightly satisfied.

“Well then, time to look like the happy couple, Madam. Let’s go meet my family—I can’t wait to see their goddamn faces.”

***

Cordelia’s father-in-law, Richard Duquesne, was the very embodiment of the “self-made man of the New Continent.”

As a young man, treated as a nobody back in the Empire, he had abandoned family and friends and crossed the ocean alone to the New Continent.

There, through countless illegal dealings, he eventually rose to a position of wealth and power. Beneath his feet lay a mob of scum constantly stirring up trouble across all industries—and even lower, the trampled corpses of those he had crushed.

Perhaps it was the memory of surviving all that bloodshed that made him obsessively believe: if it’s not the best, it’s worthless.

Thus, even on Millionaire Row, the Duquesne residence stood unrivaled in grandeur. Its exterior looked like a miniature castle transplanted straight from the Old World.

Inside, there were over a hundred rooms, two swimming pools, two art galleries, and even a railway beneath the house for direct coal deliveries.

For reference, the last part was strictly illegal, but when it came to money, there was still no such thing as impossible. Especially in the New Continent, where many aspects of the legal system were far more lax than those of the Old Continent.

By the time Cordelia finally stepped out of the car, her chest tight with suffocating dread, a voice greeted them—soft and polite, yet full of forced sweetness, as if testing the waters.

“Oh my, Lucas! Cordelia! Welcome!”

The first to speak was Alicia, Randolph’s wife. Her thin face framed by dull blonde hair tinged with brown, she had adorned it with extravagant feathers that fluttered about as she approached.

Beside her, Randolph advanced with a face full of ill intent.

“So, the two of you came? It’s been quite a while.”

His massive frame barely squeezed into his formal suit, giving him the appearance of a beast in clothes. When he crossed his arms, the intimidation was palpable.

Meanwhile, Alicia looped her arm through Cordelia’s with a sly little smile. As she deliberately kept a generous distance from the men, she leaned in close and whispered brightly,

“Was there an accident on the way here? From the couple who live closest, no less?”