MHMMS 14

Chapter 14

Like a snake, Windsor unconsciously surrendered his cigar to her insidious, subtle touch.

“……She was a woman who seemed like you couldn’t draw a drop of blood from her even if you stabbed her. But just with a divorce notice…….”

“There might have been a reason. You never know what’s in a person’s heart.”

“……A reason?”

“She might have been harboring another man in her heart and run away with him.”

Windsor’s eyes blazed.

It was the gaze of a man driven mad by jealousy.

“That can’t be! That woman who pretended to be so chaste—with another man!”

Unable to contain his anger, Windsor slammed the table. *Thud—!* The grain of the wood split slightly, and splinters lodged in Windsor’s hand.

Yet he didn’t seem to feel any pain, not blinking his wide-open eyes even once.

Acleare took Windsor’s hand and carefully removed the splinters.

“Windsor, you poor thing. You don’t know the truth.”

“…….”

“But your heartache will only last a moment. Tilda may be gone, but you still have something left, don’t you?”

With that, Acleare rose from her seat for a moment and called the aide waiting outside, instructing him to bring bandages and a tea set.

“Since Tilda Ballinea has disappeared, you will become the heir of the Sacred Family. Since she disappeared without the divorce being finalized.”

“What does the position of Sacred Family heir matter to me now…….”

“Don’t say that. You’ve always wanted to lord over people.”

Windsor was the wealthiest man in the Empire.

With his natural-born business acumen, he had rebuilt his crumbling territory and contributed the most to the Empire’s industrial development.

He bought cheap stone mountains that were considered useless and made a fortune during the golden age of architecture.

He struck gold with every venture he touched, starting with the stone mountains, amassing great wealth—but noble society never accepted Windsor.

They dismissed him as a parvenu who had bought his count’s title like a merchant. Though Windsor became the richest man in the Empire, he always suffered from an inferiority complex.

That was one reason he wanted to marry Tilda.

Because she possessed everything Windsor lacked—grace, culture, honor—all of it.

If he became the heir of the Sacred Family and later the Pope, as Acleare had said, his fantasy of putting the arrogant nobles in their place would become reality.

But Windsor thought of the Pope and spoke with displeasure.

“There’s no way that rigid old man would accept me as the heir of the Sacred Family in the first place.”

Acleare wrapped and treated Windsor’s hand with the bandages she’d received from the aide.

“Don’t worry about that. I know His Holiness the Pope quite well.”

“……You do?”

“We’ve exchanged various letters regarding Tilda’s affairs and built a friendship.”

Acleare smiled ambiguously.

Meanwhile, at the thought of Tilda again, Windsor felt his mood sink deep underground.

“How can you be so composed? Even so, Tilda was once your daughter.”

“Well…… I never liked that child in the first place.”

Acleare said honestly.

There was no need to hide it, since Windsor must have sensed it to some degree from the time she seduced him for the remarriage.

Windsor covered his eyelids with his hand as if to hide his gloomy expression.

“……You’re truly a ruthless person.”

Acleare paid it no mind, putting tea leaves into the teapot to brew the tea.

“Here, drink. It’ll relax your tense body.”

As the tea’s fragrance brushed past his nose, Windsor realized his throat felt rough, as if filled with grains of sand.

He downed the hot tea in one go.

It was behavior that would earn him scorn for being uncultured, but at this moment, Windsor didn’t care at all.

As Acleare said, the tea warmed his insides and soothed his frayed nerves.

Windsor’s eyes softened slightly.

Seeing that, Acleare smiled faintly and groped at his chest.

“Let me loosen your tie.”

Her long, slender fingers quickly untied his tie.

But her hand continued to roam over Windsor’s chest. Even as she undid a few buttons, Windsor was too languid to react sensitively.

Acleare climbed onto Windsor’s thigh and kissed him, lightly biting his lips.

Acleare’s skilled tongue soon disarmed Windsor. She knew exactly what caresses he liked, what positions he enjoyed—she knew it all.

Because they’d already spent many licentious nights together that Tilda could never have given him.

As evidence, his center had grown rigid.

When Acleare tried to undo his belt, Windsor stopped her sluggishly, as if drunk.

“……I’m not in the mood.”

“Your body doesn’t seem to agree.”

Acleare pushed aside Windsor’s limp hand and pulled down his pants. Then she swiftly took him in, and Windsor groaned.

His breath quickened at the stimulating sensation.

Acleare pulled her top down below her shoulders and buried Windsor’s face in her chest.

Then she whispered.

“Windsor, like I said, grief is only temporary.”

Acleare felt Windsor’s hands tighten around her waist and curled the corners of her mouth into a smile.

“Think about what you’re about to gain.”

At her tempting whisper, Windsor’s member grew even larger.

Acleare pulled him into her embrace as if swallowing him whole.

“Everything is going to change.”

For a fleeting moment, a gleam flashed in Acleare’s eyes, which Windsor couldn’t see.

—

It was dusk when Acleare stepped out of Windsor’s office, with shadows falling over the mansion’s hallways.

There was the aide waiting outside the door, whining like a kicked dog.

“……Is the Count feeling any better?”

“He’s asleep, exhausted. You’d better take him to the bedroom and let him sleep properly.”

At Acleare’s command, the aide quickly slipped into the office.

Windsor’s mansion was quiet.

Acleare walked through the silent hallway, listening to her own footsteps echo, and headed to where the carriage was waiting.

When Acleare came outside, a servant opened the door and welcomed his master.

The servant helped Acleare into the carriage, then boarded himself.

Soon, with just the two of them in the confined space, Acleare spoke first.

“Still haven’t found Tilda’s body?”

“We commissioned the Shadow Guild and searched thoroughly. But in the end, we couldn’t find it.”

Acleare rested her chin on her hand propped against the carriage window.

‘How strange.’

The currents hadn’t been rough that day either.

Since she couldn’t see, she would have drowned while swimming, but the body should have washed up on the shore.

Acleare thought it was odd, but concluded that if Tilda were still alive, she would have appeared by now.

“Fine, then she must have been swept out to the open sea somewhere. Tell them to stop searching for the body now—we don’t want our tails caught.”

The servant bowed his head in acknowledgment.

As the carriage fell silent again, Acleare thought of Windsor, who would be sleeping like he’d passed out by now.

‘Honestly, what a fool.’

She curled her red lips into a smirk.

Though that point was rather endearing.

Acleare hadn’t actually expected Windsor to be so emotional.

When he’d accepted her proposal of remarriage, it had seemed like he simply wanted to tame his wild, unmanageable wife.

Could he have actually loved Tilda Ballinea?

Acleare let out a scoff.

Love! What greater comedy could there be?

If so, Windsor had ultimately played a part in killing the person he loved.

Even if he had no idea she would kill Tilda Ballinea.

The scenario he had envisioned was divorcing Tilda, remarrying her, and cornering Tilda. He must have believed Tilda would come begging to take him back.

Windsor probably intended to keep Tilda as a mistress even then.

Well, either way.

Acleare found Windsor’s grief rather thrilling. It was the price of desiring a woman like Tilda Ballinea.

A guilt-ridden little lamb would be easier to tame, so it wasn’t bad that Windsor was sniffling over his ex-wife.

He was also honest in the flesh, so he wasn’t particularly difficult to handle.

After a few unforgettable, lewd nights, Tilda would soon be erased from his mind.

‘Men.’

While inwardly mocking Windsor, she also felt anticipation at imagining him gradually lowering his tail.

Windsor was one of the Empire’s most perfect catches.

Just comparing appearances, he was incomparable to that old man.

Acleare shook her head inwardly as she thought of her late husband, Duke Mumbles Belmont, whom she’d had killed.

Compared to him, Windsor was not only handsome but also had a good body. He was good in bed and good at making money.

‘And she had such a man by her side, and she tormented him.’

If that was Tilda Ballinea’s sin, then it was a sin.

Being overly rigid, acting clean and noble.

Just seeing that made her feel like her innards were twisting.

But now she wouldn’t have to see that sight anymore. By now, she’d be drifting somewhere in the ocean.

Perhaps even there, she’d be haunting as a restless spirit, still pretending to be noble.

Chuckling to herself, Acleare looked at the servant and said.

“Tell the chef to prepare tonight’s dinner with freshly caught fish.”

A deep smile spread across Acleare’s lips.