Chapter 2

Marianne, her face pale, alternately glared at the two. The man before her was Lennox Diorne, the only son of the Duke of the Maritime Kingdom.

“That’s impossible! How did you two end up together?”

“Well.”

For the first time, Harriet felt a sense of empathy for Marianne and was about to say something when the arm around her waist tightened. At the same time, a gentle bite on her left earlobe sent a tingling current from head to toe. Lennox whispered through gritted teeth.

“Foolish and cute. Are you going to end this with embarrassment? Getting caught off guard by your sister who returned after three years?”

The sharp rebuke snapped her eyes wide open. Harriet took a deep breath in secret, turned around, and faced Lennox. Her soft chest pressed against his firm abdomen. His hot, excited breath brushed against her forehead.

The close pair looked perfect, like a painting by an artist. Feeling the piercing stares, Harriet boldly reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You’re here now, darling?”

The sudden announcement caused a stir among the guests. Harriet, lifting her foot in high heels, bit the ear of the equally audacious man hard. She replied to his slightly frowning face.

“Fine. This time I lost. But if you touch me again without my permission, I’ll cut off your hand.”

“What about a kiss?”

“If you want to die, then by all means… mmm!”

Before she could finish, the man, mocking her warning, roughly pressed his lips against hers. As his tongue invaded like a predator, Harriet helplessly opened her lips.

* * *

Three months ago, in the capital.

<Femme Fatale of the Social Scene! Harriet Vanetti, the eldest daughter of the Vanetti conglomerate! Is her latest lover the rising artist Jeremy?>

<A new fish in Harriet Vanetti’s pond is a rising artist three years younger!>

The headline article swept across the capital that day. Even the prestigious social clubs were no exception. Nobles, tired of mundane music gatherings, card games, and polo, seized the opportunity to start conversations on the topic.

“Did you see the newspaper? Harriet Vanetti has done it again. It hasn’t been long since she broke up with Viscount Claudel.”

“Changing men just three months later… She’s far from modest. Quite the opposite of her mother, who was a model lady.”

“She’s not young anymore; doesn’t she plan to settle down properly?”

“Still, I’d love to be in her pond, even if it’s just for a while.”

“You say the craziest things! You’d be tossed aside in less than half a year.”

“You never know! I might be the one to tame that haughty neck. A true stallion should be mounted when it’s a wild horse…”

A long shadow fell over the viscount who was spouting vulgarities in a loud voice. The women chattering with him fell silent in surprise.

“Mounted?”

The viscount turned around at the strange feeling, gasping in a short breath.

“What comes next?”

A man with a faint smile pressed for the next words.

“Well, that…”

The once noisy gathering fell silent at the man’s arrival.

Golden hair shining as if woven with gold threads, eyes of an indescribable color that revealed nothing of his thoughts.

The tall man was Lennox Diorne, the only son and heir of the Maritime King, who ruled over three seas.

“Y-young Master Diorne. It’s been a while.”

Though smiling brightly, the man’s eyes were as cold as a wolf’s.

A chill ran down the viscount’s spine. Though he hadn’t yet inherited the dukedom, the man before him was someone he couldn’t defy.

This country, isolated by harsh icebergs and whirlpools for many years, was an island nation. Miraculously, the 3rd Duke of Diorne had pioneered an independent sea route, gaining permanent monopoly rights.

As a result, the Diorne family, which had accumulated wealth and power through trade, now boasted influence that could even bring down flying birds. It was said that a single mention of the Diorne name could ruin a family or shake a nation.

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

The wolf, baring its fangs, urged for an answer. The viscount swallowed dryly and barely managed to raise the corners of his mouth.

“What I said just now… It was… That is… A careless remark made without thinking, under the influence of alcohol. I apologize for speaking that way about your dear friend’s sister.”

“I see. Under the influence of alcohol.”

Lennox tilted his head, nodding with an understanding expression.

“That can happen. Alcohol tends to cloud judgment and make people impulsive.”

The viscount secretly sighed in relief at the understanding words.

“Yes. That’s right. It’s that darn alcohol’s fault.”

The viscount, who had burst into a hearty laugh, was about to discreetly leave.

“But it’s concerning.”

“Pardon?”

“Your father has been a long-time trading partner with mine. And to say that an important business partner’s judgment is clouded by alcohol…”

“Well…”

“I’ll be sure to convey this part clearly. Then.”

The flustered Viscount could not even offer an excuse before Lennox gave a slight nod and turned his back. Watching the retreating figure, the Viscount sank to the ground in despair.

Anton followed the quickly walking Young Master out. As soon as they boarded the waiting carriage outside the building, Anton let out a disgruntled remark.

“Young Master, Your Grace. There was no need to stir things up as soon as you returned to the country after a year. Especially for Harriet Vanetti.”

“I just said a word because it was bothersome.”

“Even if she finds out later, that woman won’t even thank you.”

“I didn’t do it expecting thanks, so it doesn’t matter.”

Lennox shrugged his shoulders and stretched his arms above his head. It was his first time back in his homeland in a year. The capital’s social scene was dull and still noisy. Pretentious people looking around to tear something apart behind the scenes, and the sycophants lurking around them hoping to get something out of it.

Among them, the only person who seemed human was one woman. The only woman in this world who saw him as less than a worm.

“The job I entrusted?”

“Here it is.”

Anton, responding curtly, handed him a document. It contained all the investigation materials about Jeremy. As Lennox’s gray eyes scanned the report, they lit up at a certain section.

“This one will be easy.”

“Do you want to be hated even more?”

“She looks prettiest when she’s angry.”

Lennox smiled brightly and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placing it in his mouth. The thought of her amber eyes glaring with anger and disdain sent chills through his body. The veins in his hand, crumpling the report, stood out in stark relief.

Seeing this, Anton silently shook his head. As the chief secretary, he couldn’t interfere any further. The man opposite was someone who greatly disliked crossing boundaries. Suppressing a sigh, Anton turned his head to look out the window instead. Apart from that, Lennox Diorne was a perfect boss and master.

Except for this abnormal obsession with Harriet Vanetti, which had started who knows when.

* * *

A lover sleeping n*ked in bed. And a strange woman lying next to him. Upon witnessing this unexpected situation, Harriet took a deep breath. As she pondered what to do, her secretary, who had followed her in sensing the unusual atmosphere, stomped her feet nervously.

“W-what should we do?”

“Water.”

“Pardon?”

“Bring water, Yvonne.”

As the secretary became more flustered and agitated, Harriet’s anger, which had been rising to the top of her head, subsided instead. She calmly instructed.

“The colder, the better.”

“Senior…”

“Didn’t you hear me? Now!”

When Harriet urged through gritted teeth, Yvonne nodded and quickly fetched a glass of water. Even as she handed it to Harriet, the two people in bed remained entangled, still asleep.

Harriet took the glass and gestured toward the door.

“Wait outside.”

“Yes!”

Yvonne left the room as if she had been waiting for the chance. As soon as the door closed behind her, Harriet approached the bed and poured the water over her lover — now ex-lover.

“Ah, who is it!”

Jeremy, jolted awake by the unexpected dousing, sat up with a start. His anger, which had flared to the top of his head, quickly subsided when he recognized the face of the culprit.

A beauty with wavy black hair and mysterious golden eyes was looking down at him. His lover and goddess, Harriet. The woman he had barely won over after a month-long, tense tug-of-war.

“Darling, your morning greeting is quite intense. Did you sleep well?”

“Intense?”

Harriet returned the greeting with a cold scoff.

“Yes. Good morning, darling.”

Her icy blue eyes turned to the woman sleeping next to Jeremy.

“Since we’re greeting each other, could you wake up the woman lying next to you? She’s sleeping so soundly.”

“W-woman…?”

Uncomprehending, Jeremy turned to look behind him, and his face turned pale in an instant.

“W-wake up! Now!”

He shook her shoulder roughly, and the woman, annoyed, woke up. Before she could gather her wits, Jeremy threw a pillow at her.

“Get out of my house now! You… you pr*stitute!”

“What?”

Just as the woman was about to retort to the verbal abuse she heard upon waking, she caught sight of Harriet, who was watching the scene with her arms crossed.

“Y-you’re…”

Harriet Coco Vanetti. The woman looking down at her haughtily was so famous in this country that not knowing her name would make you a spy — for better or worse.

The most chilling rumor she had heard about Harriet was that she had once grabbed a woman by the hair for flirting with her man and shook her until she begged for forgiveness. Her hair stood on end. She had to escape from here.