Chapter 1

[Widow and Orphan’s Lewd Outdoor Affair!]

Beneath the headline, printed in massive letters, was a photograph just as provocative as the text. It showed a man in a disheveled shirt wrapping his arms around the waist of a woman in a nightgown.

In reality, Blake had only caught Celia as she stumbled, but behind the pillar, the two looked—no matter who saw them—like lovers on the verge of sleeping together.

“My goodness. Even for a trashy tabloid, I didn’t think they’d write something like this….”

Celia’s water-like eyes trembled as she looked at it. Her striking features, framed by glossy black hair, twisted into a deep frown.

“I didn’t expect this scandal to blow up this much.”

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to Celia Lancaster. As the eldest daughter of the prestigious political Lancaster family and the so-called flower of New World high society, she had always been plagued by scandals, big and small. But this one had taken a particularly nasty turn because the other party was Blake Ryan—a self-made nouveau riche man from an orphan background.

Their encounter had set the entire New World abuzz.

The meeting of old money and new money!
A princess and an orphan living together!
Celia Lancaster, the husband-devouring woman, playing with fire with railway king Blake Ryan!

“I’m sorry, Mr. Blake. I’ll take care of this somehow.”

Lowering her head in apology, Celia spoke, and the man standing before her asked:

“Take care of it? How?”

“I’ll request a correction from the newspaper immediately. I’ll make it clear that you only helped me after I was cast out by my father.”

“Ah, so you’ll give a clarification interview….”

“And I’ll leave this house within a week. I can’t keep imposing on you any longer….”

“Instead of that, how about marriage?”

Celia doubted her ears.

“Marriage?”

She lifted her head to look at Blake. His deep green eyes—like a midsummer forest—curved into a faint smile.

“Yes. No matter how much you insist that a man and woman in a picture like that are nothing, no one will believe it.”

[Widow and Orphan’s Lewd Outdoor Affair!]

No matter how many times she looked, the photograph was undeniably obscene. The excessive tension in the man’s arm, the woman’s thoroughly disheveled hair, and the large pillar obscuring their expressions—it was more than enough to stimulate the public’s crude imagination.

“Even if you publish a clumsy correction, no one will read it. Wouldn’t it be better to fight fire with fire and use the scandal instead?”

“Fight fire with fire? How?”

“Didn’t I just suggest it? Marriage.”

“Then… you meant that seriously?”

Celia’s eyes widened.

“But… marriage isn’t something so simple.”

Calm down, Celia Lancaster. That man doesn’t know how you feel. Just like always, he’s only seeing this as an opportunity to expand his business.

As Celia tried to steady her racing heart, Blake’s composed voice reached her.

“It may take some effort, but the results will be satisfying. The moment we announce our marriage, the ‘widow and orphan’s affair’ will be packaged as love that transcends status.”

Effort. Results. Packaging.

Words that didn’t belong with “marriage” pricked at her chest.

“You’re… proposing a contract marriage to me.”

Celia asked, trying not to reveal how quickly her mood was sinking.

“The duration? And the conditions? What exactly are you thinking, Mr. Blake?”

“About three years. The conditions are as follows.”

As if he had been waiting, Blake began listing them.

“You will attempt to return to high society upon our marriage. Attend various parties and introduce me to your acquaintances. In return, I’ll establish a foundation for you as compensation.”

“If I attend parties, you’ll create a foundation? Then what do you gain?”

“I’ll be able to cross the threshold of the New Adams high society, which has been like an iron fortress. Then I’ll build connections with figures in political and business circles and secure a monopoly on the transcontinental railway. After that, I’ll never have to worry about scraping by for the rest of my life.”

“Good heavens, Mr. Blake…!”

Celia let out a hollow laugh.

Never have to worry about scraping by? If anything, Blake was the one gaining the most. The moment he secured the railway monopoly connecting the eastern and western New World, he would earn wealth on a scale incomparable to now.

‘But it’s not a bad offer for me either.’

Celia understood her situation well. Having already lost two husbands, she would no longer be able to find a proper match.

‘No, not just not bad… this might be the best deal possible.’

If she lived as a sham couple with the greatest businessman of New Adams and then moved down south, she could live a life of luxury forever.

‘What does it matter what people say?’

Celia had nothing left to lose. People would point fingers at her for marrying three times—especially to a self-made orphan-turned-tycoon—but she was already shunned as a woman who devoured her husbands.

‘Returning to high society won’t be easy, but it’s not impossible.’

In the New World, which lacked noble titles and long traditions, the one with money ultimately won. And Blake Ryan was said to be a man who built trains because he had no carts large enough to carry all the money he earned.

‘But….’

Celia gave a bitter smile and spoke.

“Mr. Blake. There’s one thing you’re overlooking.”

She couldn’t accept his proposal just like that. The last thread of her conscience held her back.

“I am Celia Lancaster. The symbol of misfortune—the woman said to devour her husbands.”

It was a nickname given to her after losing two husbands in five years. Whether people pitied her, suspected her, or simply wanted something to gossip about, everyone agreed that Celia Lancaster brought misfortune.

“In other words, if you marry me, there’s no telling what kind of bad luck will befall you. Are you prepared to risk your life?”

Celia slowly raised her head and looked at Blake.

“Come talk to me again when you’re ready for that. Then I’ll seriously consider it.”

Her blue eyes gleamed provocatively. Blake, who had been gazing down at them, let out a small laugh.

“Risking my life… That actually sounds rather interesting.”

“Pardon?”

“Wouldn’t it be worth seeing which is stronger—your misfortune that devours husbands, or my survival instinct clawed up from the very bottom of the New World?”

Celia’s eyes widened. She didn’t know whether to be offended by his bluntness or to stiffen in hurt.

“Why do you think I helped you that day?”

Blake continued in a low voice.

“I doubt you’re a naïve young lady who believes a man helps a woman purely out of kindness.”

At those words, Celia’s heart sank. She couldn’t deny that whenever this man—who always seemed so composed—began to reveal his beast-like fangs, it made her heart race.

“Don’t worry, Miss Celia.”

Blake stepped closer. As the distance between them shrank rapidly, Celia held her breath.

“You only know how something measures up once you compare it.”

His long fingers lightly brushed the tips of her nails.

“As for who will devour whom… you can only find out by testing it yourself.”

His fingers traced a crooked circle, gently stroking her nails. Aware of the sensation, Celia flushed and pulled her hand back—but his larger hand covered hers first.

The heat began to spread as they stood close enough to feel each other’s breath. And the moment Celia read the faint desire in Blake’s eyes—the unmistakable desire of a man that could not be hidden—she was filled with exhilaration.

This man wants me. Not Celia of the Lancaster family, but me as a woman.

“…Very well, then.”

Celia lightly tugged on the end of Blake’s tie.

“Let’s test it. As much as you want.”

At that moment, a low chuckle slipped out from beneath his lowered head.

Celia tried to see why Blake was laughing, but she had no time. Before she could gather herself, her lips were already being claimed by his.

“Mm…!”

Her eyes flew open.

“W-wait, Mr. Blake… this is too—!”

Startled, she tried to pull back, but the shoulder pressed against hers only pushed forward more forcefully.

“What, is it too sudden?”

His voice came out muffled between heated lips.

“Get used to it, Lady Celia. I have no intention of putting on airs like the fools on 33rd Street.”

His large hand gripped the back of her head and pulled her in firmly. As Celia, dazed, let out a breathy sound, his rough touch slipped quickly beneath the hem of her skirt.

“Ah… mm… ha…!”

Clinging to her fading senses, Celia recalled that day that surfaced faintly in her mind.

The day she first met Blake Ryan as an adult.

The only man who had reached out a hand to her when she had been abandoned by the world.

My gentle deceiver, Blake Ryan.