Even if Your Regret Holds Me Back (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9
In an instant, the exposure of their hidden secrets turned the faces of the count and his wife beet red, as if they were being strangled.
Eugene scanned the room slowly, then thundered onward.
“There must be a reason I chose Helena over you all. Do not dare test my judgment as well. Unless you truly wish to be branded like the cattle on your own dining table.”
“Your Grace!”
Christine could no longer bear it and cried out, but Eugene calmly stepped back toward Count Baron. He placed a hand firmly on the count’s shoulder, pressing down slightly while bowing his upper body.
“Don’t place too much trust in my mother. If I may offer you a word of advice for your own sake—when you possess little of worth, it pays to know when to bow your head. Even in the fields, the most reckless sprouts are the first to be plucked. Ah, of course, one must first know who the farmer truly is.”
There were only two men in Instancia who could dismiss the Baron family—renowned for their vast wealth—as insignificant or compare them to mere weeds.
The king and Grand Duke Evergale.
Though the King of Bohemia was known for his magnanimity, unfortunately for the count, the man standing before him was Grand Duke Evergale.
And not just any Grand Duke—his mood was thoroughly soured.
“The mining rights negotiation scheduled for the day after tomorrow is hereby canceled.”
“Y-Your Grace! I made a mistake—”
“Do I look like the sort of man who changes his mind over belated apologies? With eyes like yours, how can you possibly tell who the farmer is?”
The count’s face fell into utter bewilderment at this unmistakable slight.
Eugene withdrew his hand from the count’s shoulder and stepped back. Though he moved only a single step, the crowded corridor instantly cleared a path.
Eugene slipped through the gap as if nothing had happened at all.
[This is the timeline separator]A sliver of moon, no bigger than a fingernail, hung in the pitch-black night.
Though it was already quite late, Eugene opened the door without hesitation. Immediately, a small figure sprang forward and flung herself into his waiting arms as if she had been expecting him.
With a soft sigh mingled with a wry smile, Eugene gently stroked Natasha’s back.
“Why aren’t you asleep yet, it’s so late.”
“My body must’ve known Your Grace would come. For some reason, I didn’t feel sleepy at all.”
Natasha lifted her face from Eugene’s chest and met his eyes. His face, which she hadn’t seen in days, looked rougher than when she last saw him. She let her eyebrows droop.
“I’m upset.”
“What happened?”
“Your Grace’s face is hurt.”
Her smooth hand slowly crept up his firm chest until it finally cradled his cheek.
The comforting warmth of her touch and the scent of amber blended seamlessly with the tranquil night air, creating something utterly irresistible. Eventually, Eugene loosened his grip on her back and relaxed his lips.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“But how can I not worry? I care more about you than myself.”
“You really don’t need to fret. It’s just…”
Eugene’s words briefly faltered. It had been so long since he’d given any serious thought to Helena’s departure—or rather, to her sudden, inexplicable outburst. He’d always treated it like a random pimple, something to ignore and let fade away.
Helena’s existence had always been, and should remain, utterly insignificant. She must not become a burden. He had an obligation to live a normal life.
That was precisely why he’d come to see Natasha—because her absence made him feel incomplete, as if something vital were missing.
‘I must plug the gap with a new piece, somehow.’
While he was lost in this brief internal struggle, Natasha squirmed slightly. She pressed her cleavage closer through the neckline of her dress and began softly,
“I heard that Lady Helena left because she wants a divorce. Was there… some quarrel between you two…?”
Before Natasha could even finish trailing off, Eugene’s softened expression instantly hardened.
“Who told you that?”
“I—I spoke out of turn. Please forget I said anything.”
“I asked who’s been spreading such nonsense.”
“…”
Despite Eugene’s urging, Natasha kept her head bowed and refused to speak.
Finding no other choice, Eugene shifted his hand from her back to grasp her arm gently yet firmly.
“Natasha.”
His tone had grown noticeably softer. Knowing full well he was making an effort to sound kind, Natasha finally lifted her eyes again.
To his surprise, her expression was calm. A faint trace of submission remained from his earlier intensity, yet there was no fear in her eyes.
Before Eugene could register his astonishment, her clear voice rang out.
“If I admit my mistake, will you promise not to punish that maid?”
Eugene blinked slowly. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him—though certainly not a pleasant one.
“You’re far too soft, Natasha. A person shouldn’t be so—”
⌜Madam Tara is mine. If you intend to dismiss her, you’ll have to cast me out first.⌟
The source of that déjà vu finally sharpened into the vivid image of a certain woman: pale-faced yet standing unbendingly firm, her blue eyes sharp as honed blades.
Madam Tara still guarded her mistress’s chamber, yet the lady herself had already vanished.
To shake off this unwanted image, Eugene exhaled deeply and finished the sentence he’d left hanging.
Noticing his shift in mood, Natasha quietly tugged at his shirt collar to reclaim his attention.
“Will you promise me, Your Grace?”
Her eyes, always innocent, now curved even more downward with vulnerability.
Eugene reluctantly nodded. At the same time, he tightened his grip slightly on her arm—a silent demand for her to reveal the name.
Fortunately, Natasha was not as stubborn as Helena.
“It was Aida. Aida told me.”
At her prompt confession, Eugene’s brow furrowed. Recognizing the meaning behind that frown, Natasha secretly smiled to herself.
To drive the final nail home, she began murmuring in a delicate voice.
“Truth be told, I’ve also noticed the jewelry Your Grace gifted me has been disappearing one by one lately… Even if someone’s circumstances seem pitiful, bad habits—whether of hand or tongue—should never be overlooked… It was my fault. Please forgive me, Your Grace.”
“Lift your head, Natasha. It’s not your fault.”
Eugene gently cupped her chin and raised her face. Her hidden intention became even clearer.
Aida would vanish from the estate by tomorrow at the latest. Whether she could find another position without a letter of recommendation was uncertain—but that was no longer his concern.
‘A talkative maid is safest discarded after one use.’
As Natasha mentally erased Aida’s name from her thoughts, she slowly released the fold of his clothing she’d been clutching.
‘With men, you must let them go until they find their way back—that’s the key.’
Though she hadn’t been holding on tightly, the moment Natasha’s hand fell away, Eugene’s expression flickered with faint bewilderment.
Satisfied, Natasha stepped fully out of his embrace.
“I’m sorry for keeping such a busy man for so long. Please go now, Your Grace.”
She took a few steps back, gracefully dipped into a curtsy, and rose again with perfect poise.
“Do visit again if you think of me. I’ll always be here, waiting for Your Grace.”
[This is the timeline separator]A sunbeam gently tickled his nostrils. The light, saturated by white lace curtains, carried all the languid warmth of a weekend afternoon.
Helena slowly blinked awake and wiggled her toes. Between the crisp rustle of clean sheets, she felt the arm wrapped around her waist tighten.
She didn’t need to turn around to recognize the drowsy pressure against her back. That deep, comforting scent clung warmly to her skin—the unmistakable presence of the man she loved.
She even felt the faint scratch of stubble against her nape, left from the night before. Helena let out a soft laugh, as if the sensation tickled her unbearably.
“What time is it, Eugene?”
“I’ll send Madam Tara away when she comes, so sleep some more.”
Eugene answered with a deep breath. Then he slowly shifted the knee he’d tucked between her thighs.
The friction through the thin layer of her negligee felt strangely unfamiliar. Helena involuntarily flinched. His fingers swept through her hair—red as silk—and it glowed even brighter in the morning sun.
Though waking like this was perfectly ordinary for newlyweds, she couldn’t help feeling flustered every single time. Just his touch always left her tense and restless.
“Mmm…”
Trying to mask her eagerness, Helena shifted awkwardly. Instantly, the lingering pressure vanished completely.
Just as she began to feel chilled by the cool air replacing his warmth, his voice filled the empty space, sending shivers down her spine.
“Good morning.”
Eugene spoke with his lips pressed against the bare skin of her back, where he’d pushed up her negligee. The warm breath and resonant vibration of his voice seeped directly into her skin.
“Eugene…!”
Unable to bear the electric sensation, Helena twisted her body. The air grew stiflingly hot in an instant.
She tried to pry away the large hand locked around her waist like a shackle, but he immediately seized her wrist and pulled her even deeper into his embrace.
“Just stay still.”
Soft, wet sounds overwhelmed her feeble struggles. His lips climbed steadily up her spine, nibbling at each vertebra—hot, damp, and full of tenderness.
Each kiss carried a helpless, overwhelming love, as if branding her as his own. Helena couldn’t help but laugh—it filled her heart so completely.
The sound of his kisses lingered in the air for a long while before finally stopping at her lower back. At that moment, his embrace grew even heavier. Helena gasped softly.
“You’re heavy, Eugene.”
Immediately, the pressure intensified to an unbearable degree.
“Heavy?”
Eugene’s voice was terrifyingly cold. All traces of his earlier sweetness had vanished, replaced by an icy chill that raised goosebumps wherever he touched.
“If you can’t handle me, you never should have dared set foot in Evergale.”
The peaceful morning shattered instantly.
Swallowed whole.
Crushed.
Pulverized.
She couldn’t breathe.
All she could do was rasp desperately for air, scraping her choked throat for a single breath. Her voice barely emerged, thick with sleep.
“Save me… please… save me, Eugene…!”
It was a nightmare.
“So you wished I’d love you even in your dreams? Disgusting.”
A nightmare that swallowed reality itself.
‘No, no.’
You don’t understand—you who speak such words.
“No!”
Helena gasped sharply awake, her eyes flying open.
Her chest heaved violently with each ragged breath. When she brought a hand to her forehead, it slipped on a film of cold sweat.
She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and looked around. It was the inn room along the road back to Pretelita. Everything in the small chamber remained exactly as it had been before she fell asleep.
The cheap wooden wardrobe half-open, the rough-textured blanket, the stained wallpaper, the empty space.
Alone in the room, just as when she’d entered.
—Just stay still.
‘It’s always only me who stays the same.’
Though the windows were tightly shut, the empty space beside her felt icy. No one had ever sat there for long—never had, never would—yet it felt bitterly cold.
Helena curled her body into a tight ball without getting up and closed her eyes again.
Please let it be a dream, just a dream…
‘I’m not lonely.’
Let it continue—even if wrapped in nightmares, just hold me.
She needed warmth, even if it was a lie.
Turns Out He’s Been Secretly in Love with Me
One-line summary: He acts like he doesn’t like her but is actually playing hard to get.
Synopsis:
Xu Muzhou like her. He has liked her for a very long time, and through repeated schemes, he finally closed the distance with her.
But this is still far from enough.
He wants to be the one who stands out among her many suitors, to fight for her attention, and to make her take the initiative to pursue him.
_____
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Who cares? 😒 That mf deserves a lot of pain 😒😒😡😡
EXACTLY! She’s with someone else …now you aint shit
Me too 😒 she should have kicked his balls and cut them 🤔