To be honest, the number of times Louis had handed my belongings over to his mistresses easily exceeded ten fingers.
Taking something I was wearing, like today, was a first—but still.

What on earth had my past self fallen for in that b*stard?
No—what did I trust, to plan a future with a man who was nothing short of a daylight robber?

Saying I hadn’t known he was that kind of person would be nothing more than an excuse.
Perhaps the one I should be blaming is my foolish past self.

“Mia is a woman with truly deep consideration. It’s a blessing from God that I took such a woman as my wife.”

And for me, it was a curse.

“You’re too much. Miss Hursel might feel slighted.”

Smiling brightly, I looked toward Olivia.
At that, I could see her earlier boldness falter.

“Mia, you’re not upset… are you?”

Hesitating, that was all she managed to say.
She’d asked the same question just moments ago.

Her acting showed no development or variation at all.

“No, Miss Hursel.”

“I’ll take good care of them.”

“Yes. Do wear them very, very well, Miss Hursel.”

And trip while you’re at it.

“Thank you.”

There’s no need to thank me.
From now on, those clear eyes of yours will never know a day without tears.

Truthfully, I watched your reactions while deciding what to do with you…
and I intend to treat you more gently than the women I disposed of before.

I tried to recall what you’d done to me before my regression, and you hadn’t been particularly cruel to me.
At least, not compared to Louis’s other mistresses.

Still, you did torment my past self—
so you’ll have to receive punishment befitting that.

“Mia.”

As I was contemplating what to do about Olivia, Louis grabbed my arm.
Then he wrapped one arm around my waist.

“That piece you released this time—it’s getting an excellent response.”

Given that I’m twenty now, the work he’s referring to must be Early Dawn.
Perhaps because it was written so long ago, my memory of it was vague.

Besides, after so many regressions, trivial details like that didn’t remain very clearly.

“Hoho, is that so?”

I answered calmly with a smile, but my mood turned foul.

Watching Louis publish my work as though it were his own—
from a creator’s perspective, it felt like having a child stolen away.

“If you’re pleased, then I’m very happy as well.”

The etiquette I had been drilled in since childhood began with one thing—never showing one’s emotions.
Perhaps because of that, putting on a smile was the easiest thing in the world for me.

You could say it was the result of years spent habitually imitating the role of a kind and virtuous woman.

In any case—
Smiling while thinking of something else inwardly was hardly difficult.

So even in the midst of this, I was calmly sketching out in my mind just how far I would tear that b*stard down.

“You’re truly the best woman I’ve ever known.”

That’s right—and far more than you deserve.

“So, about that—how about moving the next piece up a bit?”

“How much earlier?”

“I was hoping you’d start today.”

“I think today is too soon. More than anything, I’m tired.”

Writing is an emotionally draining task, and I didn’t have the confidence to start right away.
More than that, I could already picture Louis’s vile behavior—taking my manuscript, binding it together, and publishing it under his name.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to help you regain your energy?”

As Louis finished speaking, he pushed me onto the tea table.

His rough hands left me bent over like an animal.

Soon after, my voluminous dress skirt was lifted.

There wasn’t even a moment to say “wait.”

A woman’s duty as someone’s wife was to bear and raise children well.

Thus, Louis’s distasteful behavior was perfectly normal for this era.

Still, what was his intention doing this to me with his mistress right beside us? He must be doing it deliberately.

Truly, the worst.

“…Hah.”

Olivia, whom I glanced at, wore a truly devastated expression.

From the way she furrowed her brow, it looked like she might burst into tears at any moment.

“You know, Mia. It’s been a while for us… how about it?”

Louis whispered in my ear with an excited, panting voice.

“Feels amazing, doesn’t it? Hm?”

Without answering him—like a pig in heat—I lowered my raised dress skirt.

Then I gave him a bright smile.

“I don’t want to.”

“What?”

“I said I don’t want to do this.”

“What are you talking about? Just yesterday you were crying and begging me to hold you.”

“I must have eaten rat poison. There’s no way I did that in my right mind.”

Yesterday was when I was desperate for love and begging for attention, so I really wasn’t in my right mind.

“Wh-what? You loved my impressive—”

As Louis was about to say something vulgar, I grabbed the table with one hand and flipped it over.

“Oh my, darling. Say that again. What? Impressive?”

Louis was small and pathetic.

For breeding purposes, size doesn’t matter.

They say even thumb-length is sufficient for breeding without problems.

This was information I learned from a column somewhere.

It was probably about the life of gorillas, wasn’t it?

“Louis. You seem to be mistaken that I’m just a piece of meat for you to satisfy your l*st.”

When married couples share a bed, it’s not only for breeding purposes, is it?

Louis was the worst in this regard.

Because he was a beast who only cared about satisfying his own l*st.

He never once valued my pleasure or wishes.

“Have you gone mad, woman! Why are you throwing the table around!”

Louis screamed at me.

Whatever.

“I simply conveyed my wishes clearly to you. That I don’t want to.”

If I hadn’t said I didn’t want to, Louis would have surely pushed me down right then.

And he would have crushed me beneath him, deluding himself that he’d conquered me.

Laughably.

“I’m offering to hold you and you, you’re rejecting me! How dare you!”

Truth be told, the reason he hesitated earlier was largely because he was flustered—it was the first time he’d heard me say I didn’t want to.

But now I think I need to make it crystal clear. So that b*stard, worse than a beast, knows his place.

“I decide what to do with my body. Not you.”

Words the old me would never have been able to say.

Perhaps that’s why.

I felt liberated.

And I realized this was what I’d wanted to say all along but couldn’t.

“What kind of b*llshit is that? And how dare you speak down to me?”

Louis’s face turned bright red.

“When were you clinging to my waist begging and pleading! When I say I’ll hold you, you should bow your head and grovel in gratitude! What? Decide? Deciiiide?”

Louis’s neck veins bulged with rage.

“You must be very tired these days.”

I showed him a pitying expression.

For a moment, color returned to his face.

It seemed he thought I would yield to him. But I simply crossed my arms and took a step back from him.

Then with one hand not crossed, I tapped my cheek.

“It can’t be dementia already.”

At the same time, I swept my eyes over Louis from top to bottom.

“Ah! Is it because you’re in heat?”

As I said this, I tried to smile politely but burst into laughter despite myself.

And for good reason—at my single remark, Louis trembled with rage.

Seeing him shudder with humiliation was so pathetic that I laughed until tears streamed down.

“In heat! You’ll regret what you just said! Even if you beg and plead now, I’ll never give in to you!”

Look at that.

Still putting on airs like he’s some emperor of the night in front of his mistress.

“Honestly, my fingers are excellent. So I don’t think I’ll have any regrets now or in the future.”

In the past, I wouldn’t have dared say such a thing—I would have dropped to my knees immediately.

Begging him not to abandon me, saying I’d do anything he wanted, pleading for him to hold only me.

I would have groveled pathetically and entreated that b*stard.

“Mia, you must be dying to get beaten by me today, huh? Is that it?”

Louis raised his hand.

It seemed he was hoping I would drop to my knees, apologize, and beg until my hands practically caught fire—but.

“Honestly. It’s always the uneducated ones who reach for their fists first.”

I clicked my tongue in disdain.