Life After Divorce - Chapter 1

Prologue

“Please calm down first.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the firm body approaching as I stepped back.

“Etricia.”

Edmond approached languidly like a predator cornering its prey, trapping me in his arms. Soon my back was pressed against the hard wall.

As I instinctively glanced behind, a broad shadow fell over me like an awning.

Slowly raising my head, I let out a languid sigh at the scene like a painting.

Smoldering golden eyes, damp silver hair, straight lips uttering a voice that sent chills down my spine. And a half-open robe on top of that.

A water droplet that had been precariously clinging to his chin, exuding a dangerous aura, fell with a plop.

“I am not your younger brother. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand.”

Flustered, I nodded vigorously, acknowledging that yes, that was correct. Hoping that saying so would get me out of this awkward situation. But he frowned even at my compliant answer.

“You don’t understand at all.”

Not knowing what exactly I was supposed to understand, I felt embarrassed with nowhere to look.

I tried to raise my hands to push against Edmond’s chest, but ended up diverting to his sturdy shoulders when faced with his blatant pectorals.

Even the slight touch of skin felt scorching hot, as if I’d been burned.

“Brother, let’s step back and calmly discuss—”

“Please.”

Edmond cut me off with a voice like a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. He slowly opened his eyelids again and spoke in a suppressed voice.

“Stop calling me brother.”

“…”

“You are not my sister, I’m telling you.”

Edmond carefully placed his clenched fist next to my face. Our gazes met as we were pressed close together. His slightly contorted golden eyes were blazing hotly.

“If I saw you as a sister, I wouldn’t desire you.”

I suddenly swallowed hard. It was hard to believe what I’d heard.

‘Desire…?’

Did he just say… desire?

That outrageous statement was not something that should ever come from that man’s mouth. Especially not from the mouth of that man who hadn’t batted an eye at the seductions of countless women, like some monk.

Instinctively, I slowly lowered my gaze.

I knew that even if he desired me, it didn’t mean what it did now. He wasn’t an animal, it couldn’t possibly be like that in this situation.

But still…

Out of curiosity, I started to lower my gaze but squeezed my eyes shut before reaching his waistband. My face was burning so much I simply couldn’t look. As if telling me not to avoid it, I felt him press even closer and I bit my lip.

Yes, I had noticed to some extent. I had noticed, but…

‘Since when…?’

Amidst the confusing questions swirling in my mind, I quickly rewound through time.

*

1. I’ve entered a trashy novel. As the protagonist, no less.

Sigh.

I stopped on the landing, gripping the railing as I looked down at the hall.

My head was throbbing at the thought of the person I was about to meet.

There was a woman lounging languidly on a couch after lining up the servants in the central hall.

She appeared to be in her mid-40s.

Wearing a soft fox fur shawl that would flutter at the slightest breeze, the woman was for some reason in a terribly foul mood.

Staring at the grandfather clock, she asked sharply while fanning herself with a lavender fan.

“When is Etricia coming down?”

“It seems she’s coughing and her preparations are delayed. She’ll be down soon.”

“Tsk, how pathetic. So slow.”

The woman crossed her legs irritably.

For the record, I hadn’t invited her.

Moreover, that was the mansion’s common hall, not really a suitable place for a lone couch.

‘Guests usually use the reception room after all.’

Just from the attitude of this uninvited guest scolding the host, one could tell how ill-mannered she was.

I let out a small sigh.

‘Let’s just deal with her briefly and send her away.’

Having finished my contemplation, I descended the remaining steps and the woman languidly stood up, crossing her arms.

“You’re here now? Even a turtle would be faster than you.”

“…”

I stared at the woman expressionlessly without moving. I didn’t even offer a common greeting or a nod. I had no desire to greet this ill-mannered woman who had barged in like an outlaw and was acting like she owned the place.

Even if that woman was my mother-in-law, Viscountess Antra Dien.

As I silently met her gaze, Antra let out a laugh of disbelief.

“Ha, not even a proper greeting for your mother-in-law who came to visit the sick. As expected, such cheap manners from a nouveau riche family, Etricia.”

Ha, at the clear mockery, I sighed with clouded eyes. That’s rich coming from someone who showed up unannounced.

But my current goal was to send that woman away.

Swallowing the words rising in my throat, I curtsied indifferently while grasping the hem of my dress.

“You must be tired from your journey, Mother.”

At that, Antra raised her eyebrows like mountains.

“You don’t seem very pleased to see me.”

“Isn’t it stranger to welcome an uninvited guest?”

“So you’re saying my visit is unwelcome, is that it?”

“That could be one interpretation.”

“You…”

As I calmly retorted without giving an inch, Antra bit her lip, at a loss for words.

‘She must be furious. Until now, I only answered like a parrot, saying yes, yes.’

I blinked languidly as I looked around.

The antique gold-plated interior walls, the dazzlingly ornate diamond chandelier, the art pieces covering the walls so densely the wallpaper couldn’t be seen.

‘They really splurged.’

With my money.

Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes tightly.

It was just a very common, ordinary possession.

No, since I had lived as Etricia from the moment I opened my eyes here, perhaps it should be called reincarnation.

The night before, drunk out of my mind, I had dived down the stairs and lost consciousness.

And I recalled my past life.

In that distant dream, I was an orphan who had died in a plane crash on the way back from studying abroad.

Beep beep—. The fierce ringing in my ears and people’s screams.

‘Gasp!’

I opened my eyes with a start, taking ragged breaths.

My nightgown and hair were soaked with cold sweat.

My eyes darted frantically around the bedroom. No matter where I looked, it wasn’t an unfamiliar space.

That’s when I realized.

I had been living as the protagonist of a trashy novel I had been reading on the plane before the accident—a woman who hired an assassin to kill her husband’s mistress, only to be killed by the mistress’s younger brother.

In the early parts of the original story, she meets her husband Devon while exhausted from caring for her ill father, and falls for his sweet words.

He forged the will of her bedridden father to steal her inheritance and title, resulting in a disastrous marriage.

The husband squandered money and had affairs from the start of their marriage, while the mother-in-law tormented her mercilessly. Saying a woman from a crude, upstart family with no pedigree had entered their prestigious family of civil officials.

By the time she came to her senses, she was completely isolated in the mansion.

After enduring for 4 years without realizing the bruises forming on her heart, in the latter part of the novel she drunkenly hires an assassin to kill the final mistress.

A sword flying diagonally and blood splattering.

To be killed by the mistress’s brother while drunk, without even getting revenge. It was truly an ending readers would deplore.

Carefully retracing the timeline, I realized it was the day after I had drunkenly hired the assassin and tumbled down the stairs.

If things continued this way, all that remained was a gruesome ending.

After my death, Antra would bring in a daughter-in-law to her liking and become part of the privileged class in high society, while Devon would continue his affairs until he lost sexual function, living out his days in luxury. All while monopolizing everything the Count Vuel had built.

‘Don’t make me laugh, am I supposed to just be victimized and die while giving everything to that damned mother and son?’

It was enough to make one’s blood boil even after death.

I clenched my skirts tightly and gritted my teeth, vowing:

‘I will definitely drive out that mother and son without giving them a single ogrant.’

Definitely.

“Etricia.”

“…”

“Etricia!”

The sharp call invaded my thoughts, jolting me awake.