My Mistress Became My Wife (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9
The moment Harold’s hand touched her tear-streaked cheek, the tear trembling precariously at the corner of her eye fell onto his palm.
‘What the hell am I doing.’
Only then did Harold come to his senses. He let out a low scoff and pulled his hand away. It was both shameful and puzzling that he’d nearly touched a woman too drunk to think clearly. Lily was the first woman whose mere eye contact stirred such feelings in him.
‘Could it be because I’ve been celibate for so long?’
It wasn’t that he particularly wanted to—it was simply that his circumstances had forced him into abstinence. Women he’d been with always wanted more than just a night’s fleeting pleasure.
He had briefly considered pursuing a real relationship, but he’d never met a woman he liked enough for that. Besides, he was soon to leave the capital for a distant and dangerous border region—romance was out of the question.
Not that he’d ever shown much interest in women anyway.
He’d thought living this way was fine, but judging by how instantly he reacted to such a minor provocation, he must have been mistaken.
If he didn’t resolve this soon, it might lead to serious trouble.
For that reason, Harold tried to stand up, thinking he shouldn’t stay close to Lily any longer—but Lily grabbed his arm.
Then, gazing at him with those faint, entrancing eyes, she asked,
“Is it really… not my fault?”
It was a continuation of their earlier conversation. Harold gave a wry smile and nodded.
“It’s not your fault, my lady.”
“Really? Truly not my fault?”
How many times did he have to reassure her before she’d believe him?
That annoyed him, but her continued use of informal speech irritated him even more.
“Yes. It’s not your fault.”
Then I should stop being so formal too. It felt a little unfair being the only one using polite speech.
“I see. So it really isn’t my fault.”
Lily finally smiled in relief, then clasped her hands together tightly and murmured,
“That’s right. It’s not my fault. Even if I did something wrong… I still didn’t do anything worse than that man. It’s all Frederick Benjamin’s fault—that bastard.”
Lily stared into empty space with venomous eyes as if Frederick stood right before her.
“Are you really that great?”
Words she’d never dare say sober tumbled out, fueled by alcohol.
“You keep staying out all night playing paramour to some other woman… and then claim you still consider me your wife? Don’t make me laugh. If you’re going to lie, at least come up with something more believable so I can pretend to believe you!”
Her furious voice echoed loudly through the suite. She shouted so fiercely that Harold’s ears rang slightly.
It clearly meant she’d been holding back a lot. Recalling the epithets society had pinned on Lily, Harold immediately understood why she was like this.
“If it bothers you that much, why don’t you just take a lover yourself?”
At the same time, feeling sorry for her, he offered a reasonable solution. Lily gave a disbelieving laugh.
“Me take a lover? How?”
Did he really need to explain even that? This time, Harold chuckled wryly.
“Who… would ever like someone like me?”
“What’s wrong with you? You’re plenty attractive.”
“…You’re the first person to ever say that to me.”
Harold smiled.
“Everyone else must be blind.”
He wasn’t flattering her—he genuinely meant it. Harold truly thought Lily was attractive; she just wasn’t his type.
“…”
Lily’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit at his blunt yet honest assessment, then returned to normal. She studied Harold’s handsome face carefully, then reached out from where her hands had rested neatly on her lap and took hold of his arm.
“Then… will you be my lover?”
Be her lover?
Stunned by the unexpected proposal, Harold stared at Lily incredulously.
“…”
In contrast, Lily’s expression was serious—there wasn’t a trace of playfulness in it.
That very sincerity made it even more absurd to Harold. No one had ever dared utter such madness—asking him to be their lover.
Of course, Lily didn’t know Harold was the second son of Duke Maximilian’s house, so she couldn’t be blamed—but even so, it didn’t sit well with him.
…Or did it?
Normally, even a simple request from another woman to spend just one night together would make his blood boil, but this time was different. Though her demand was arguably worse, he didn’t feel angry at all.
He just felt utterly flabbergasted.
“I knew it… you don’t want to, do you?”
Seeing Harold remain silent and still, Lily drooped her head sadly. Her slumped shoulders looked so pitiful that Harold felt an urge to pull her into an embrace.
Before the thought even finished forming, his arms moved on their own. Realizing belatedly that he’d already pulled Lily into his arms, Harold startled and quickly pushed her away.
“…”
Lily looked equally surprised, but her gaze held a flicker of hope. Her bright, fresh green eyes captivated him in a whole new way.
Repeated temptations had swelled his desire into something enormous, and now reason was being devoured by instinct as his body moved of its own accord.
Harold slipped his hand into Lily’s tousled hair and kissed her. Startled by the sudden kiss, Lily flinched—but soon closed her eyes tightly, as if granting permission, and surrendered herself completely to him.
Her compliance acted as a trigger, further stoking Harold’s desire. Having lived so long in celibacy, his unleashed longing grew ever more insistent.
The slick, wet sound of mingling saliva echoed through the dim hotel room. Harold’s lips, hungrily exploring as if to devour every part of her, trailed down from her mouth to her throat.
The moment his saliva-glistening lips brushed against her prominent collarbone—whose saliva it even was, neither could say—Lily’s head thudded softly against Harold’s shoulder.
“…”
Harold’s reason returned momentarily. He looked down at Lily’s face. Her formerly bright green eyes had vanished beneath closed lids. Her chest rose and fell steadily, and her breathing had evened into a soft, rhythmic slumber.
Could she really fall asleep after shaking me up like this?
Unable to believe it, Harold lightly shook her shoulder—but her long lashes remained utterly still.
“Ha.”
What an absurd situation. Harold let out a dry laugh and swept a hand through his disheveled hair.
Though utterly ridiculous, it was also fortunate—his runaway desire had finally quieted. Had it not, he surely would have gone all the way.
After taking a deep breath to fully suppress the lingering embers of desire, Harold moved the soundly sleeping Lily onto the bed—and noticed the wounds on her palms and elbows. They appeared scraped, and a faint trickle of blood seeped from them.
When had she gotten hurt? Frowning, Harold examined the injuries, then tugged the service cord beside the bed.
Knock knock—
Moments later, the suite’s dedicated hotel attendant knocked on the door.
“Yes, sir? How may I assist you?”
“I need some ointment for wounds.”
At the word “wounds,” the attendant’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Are you injured, sir? Shall I summon a physician?”
Harold hesitated briefly, then shook his head.
“No need for a physician—just bring wound ointment.”
“Understood. I’ll bring it at once.”
Once the attendant delivered the ointment, Harold went into the bathroom and dampened a clean towel with warm water.
Emerging from the bathroom, Harold froze at the sight of clothes scattered on the floor.
“…”
Surely not. His golden eyes flickered uncertainly toward the bed. Beneath the blanket wrapped snugly around her, a slender, pale leg stretched out.
His barely settled desire stirred again. Harold quickly turned his head away. He’d never imagined she’d undress while he was merely preparing a damp cloth.
Her drinking wasn’t great, and her sleeping habits weren’t either. Maybe this was another symptom of her drunken state.
He needed to treat her wounds quickly and leave.
Repeating silently to himself that he must endure, Harold approached Lily, who slept obliviously. At least she was mostly covered by the blanket—if not, he’d have walked out without a backward glance.
He carefully cleaned the wounds on her palms and elbows with the warm cloth. Once the blood was wiped away, the injuries clearly looked like scrapes.
Such wounds usually came from falling—her legs were probably hurt too.
Sure enough, her slightly exposed knees were also injured—and worse than the others.
“I should have a physician examine this.”
Harold almost asked the attendant to summon a physician but stopped himself.
Calling a physician now might leak word that Harold Maximilian, second son of Duke Maximilian’s house, and Liliana Benjamin, Viscountess Benjamin, had spent the late hours together alone in a hotel room.
Harold himself wouldn’t suffer much from the rumors, but Lily certainly would. Knowing gossip would surely spread and cause her distress, he decided against calling a physician and instead applied the ointment meticulously.
“I’ll have to make sure she sees a physician as soon as she returns to her mansion tomorrow.”
Though whether she’d actually go back to Viscount Benjamin’s estate tomorrow was doubtful—after what amounted to running away.
If not, he’d just have to tell her to visit the physician herself.
Checking only the arms and legs exposed beyond the blanket for other injuries, Harold was startled when Lily suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm.
Then, as if using his arm as a pillow, she rested her head against it and lay still. Harold stared down at her, bewildered.
He wondered if she’d woken up—but her eyes remained closed. Her lips curled contentedly upward, annoyingly sweet, and Harold gently flicked her smile.
“Mmm…”
In response, Lily mumbled in her sleep like a baby and hugged his arm even tighter. Her desperate grip tugged at his heart—especially with the tear tracks still stark beneath her eyes.
But he couldn’t stay like this.
Harold tried to pull his arm away, but each attempt made Lily stir as if about to wake—so he finally gave up.
If she woke now, and they faced each other fully sober, it would be terribly awkward for them both.
He’d just have to wait until she fell into a deeper sleep before slipping away.
Leaning back against the headboard, Harold waited for Lily to fall soundly asleep again.
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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