Michael responded with a nonchalant tone to her innocent remark. He let out a chuckle at her slightly accusing tone, as if reminiscing about the past.

Michael gazed at her with a certain intensity. A bright smile that could possibly become his own.

Another chance had been given. And he didn’t intend to let this opportunity slip away. He had regretted it belatedly once; he didn’t want to dwell on the bitterness of that regret alone.

“Care for a drink?”

Michael offered her champagne. He held champagne glasses in both hands, indicating that he probably knew she would be here.

“Thank you. It turns out I was quite thirsty.”

She accepted the champagne and nodded slightly. In the process, some of the hair she had pinned behind her ear cascaded forward, revealing a slender neck.

Michael involuntarily reached out his hand. Like petting a wary cat, he touched it delicately and cautiously.

“When we first met, you said something like that to me.”

For some reason, a different atmosphere emanated from Michael. The air around the two of them shifted subtly.
Marianne straightened her back, her eyes widening as she slowly looked at his approaching hand.

“That’s not to your liking,” she said.

As if memories of that time came flooding back, Marianne now offered a sly smile. She hadn’t been as mature then, lacking the patience and composure she had now.

Michael’s voice lowered a bit.

“Is that statement still valid? Am I still not to your liking, Marianne?”

“!”

As if she had heard unexpected words, Marianne took a quick breath. She gazed at Michael with a bewildered expression.

“What…?”

“I’ve become much more relaxed and stable than I was back then. At least enough to take responsibility for a woman.”

“…”

Marianne’s pupils quivered. Michael hadn’t been joking, and she couldn’t easily move away. His fingers, which had been slowly cutting through the air, were about to touch Marianne’s hair.

“That’s far enough.”

A sharp voice pierced the air between the two. Michael’s hand froze in place. He slowly turned his head.

Christoph, with a stern expression, was staring daggers at him. His pupils, as dark as the night, radiated a hint of danger.

“If you move another inch…”

The calm voice had no highs or lows, but it was more threatening than ever. It triggered an instinctive sense of danger.

Michael forced a nonchalant smile, pulling the corners of his mouth. He replied in a casual tone.

“Move an inch?”

“I’ll make sure you never use that hand again, Michael Hindenbourg.”

“…”
“No, not just your hand. I’ll cut off your air supply. I’m not joking right now. So, don’t cross the line.”

“Hah.”

Michael let out a cold scoff. Murmurs of self-talk escaped his lips.

“Crossing the line.”

He was infuriatingly arrogant, just like Christoph. But he wasn’t the timid child who used to tremble at Christoph’s words.

“I know what my boundaries are, Christoph Schneider.”

With those words, Michael straightened his head. He reached out towards Marianne while staring at her. The moment Christoph took a cold step forward.

“…”

Marianne subtly moved her upper body backward. Suddenly, all expression vanished from Michael’s face. He looked like someone who had just had their trust betrayed. Christoph stopped in his tracks.

Taking a step back, Marianne offered an awkward smile to Michael.

“I’ll go in now, so you two can continue your conversation. I never knew you two were this close during school. Seems like you have a lot to talk about.”

With those words, she moved away. Her footsteps seemed tinged with anger. The forced smile that had been on her lips slowly disappeared.

As she passed by Christoph, she glanced at him. It was as if she was saying, “Don’t involve me in your mudfight.”
A heavy silence settled between Christoph and Michael. Michael clenched his fist, tightening his grip while lowering the arm that had been suspended in the air.

Flick.

Christoph let out a laugh that seemed to deflate like the wind. His cheerful voice echoed in the stillness.

“I told you, didn’t I? Don’t cross the line.”

Simultaneously, Michael’s eyes flickered. He glared at Christoph with fierce eyes, gnashing his teeth.

“Don’t let your guard down, Christoph. I won’t just be twiddling my thumbs like back then. One regret is enough.”

With those words, Michael took firm, purposeful steps, tapping Christoph’s shoulder as he passed.

Christoph, as if questioning when he had laughed, stared at Michael’s retreating back with cold eyes.

“Damn it.”

An expletive escaped his lips.

A violent storm raged inside and outside. Vultures emerged from all directions, heedless of boundaries, and lusted after Marianne.

Christoph slowly clenched his fist. In the midst of the raging tempest, he had to stay sharp not to lose sight of Marianne.

Suddenly, as if turning abruptly, he entered the banquet hall. He couldn’t afford to lose sight of her even for a moment. His eyes carried an anxious gleam.

The mansion, now empty with the departure of the last guest, was silent and dimly lit, as if it were completely deserted. Marianne, who had bid farewell to the guests as the hostess of the Schneider family, finally let go of the tension that had been gripping her shoulders.

The maids were busy with the cleanup, but her part was done. Marianne walked wearily down the corridor, releasing a sigh she had been holding in.

Following behind her, Christoph casually initiated a conversation.

“Heading to bed?”

Marianne turned her head to look at him. Christoph knew better than to show any sign of impatience, especially at times like this.

His voice was slightly slower than usual as he spoke to her.

“We’re planning to leave early tomorrow, right? If we want to make it to the meeting on time, we should set off in the morning. Instead of going back to the boarding house, wouldn’t it be more efficient for us to leave from here together, Marianne? What do you think?”

“…”

Marianne’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly. Her sharp gaze seemed as though it could penetrate Christoph’s hidden intentions.

Efficiency. Was that really the only reason?