The Wicked Wife's Dark History Keeps Coming Back To Haunt Her - Chapter 258
He wanted to storm the underground prison immediately, but he closed his eyes tightly to calm himself.
Though this was Count Conwellâs territory, it wasnât as if there were no ways to impose harsher punishment on them.
Forcing his anger down, he opened the drawer and took out the first-aid kit.
In a luxury hotel like this, each room usually kept basic medicine on hand.
ââŚI wonât do anything else, so please just let me apply a salve. It wonât do any good for marks to linger.â
Once he received her permission, Ash quietly moved behind her.
RustleâŚ
He carefully brushed her long pink hair forward and opened the neckline.
When his fingertips brushed against her pale, soft skin, his adamâs apple bobbed, but he mocked himself for the selfish thoughts that surged up reflexively and spread a thin layer of diluted ointment.
Once upon a time, heâd been counting down the days until their divorce⌠never imagining heâd harbor feelings like this.
He sneered briefly at his own foolishness.
âIâll take my leave now. Please rest comfortably.â
Wiping his hand roughly on his thigh, he put away the first-aid kit and stood up.
Because Ian had latched the door shut, he couldnât return to his room.
But staying the night in his wifeâs room in an atmosphere like this would only make her uncomfortable.
With people watching, he couldnât take another room eitherâŚ
It seemed he would have to take a long night walk tonight.
* * *
House Nord, a private chamber.
With her arms crossed, Rebecca swept a cold gaze over Emilâs works.
If Henryâs paintings were flawless âcompleted piecesâ, Emilâs works still had a strong sense of rawness, not yet fully refined.
âStill, at this level, theyâre quite good.â
Even if Henry was an unknown rising star, he was still the young master of a noble house.
It was obvious that an orphan who had grown up without any support would draw more attention than a painter backed by a noble family.
At Rebeccaâs satisfied voice, the tension pooled in Emilâs shoulders loosened, but only for a moment.
âProduce five more works within this week.â
After days of nonstop work, his eyes ached and his wrists hurt.
And now she was telling him to produce five more.
âB-ButâŚâ
âThere are no buts.â
As she lightly stroked the riding crop and murmured, Emilâs complexion turned pale.
After living only in an orphanage, then being dragged to House Nord under the pretext of sponsorship and staying there for several days.
Emil had witnessed Rebecca taking out her anger again and again on a âbeaten childâ.
If he failed to carry out her orders, the bloodstained riding crop would rake across his back.
When Emil nodded quickly in fear, Rebecca snorted.
Though the rental schedule hadnât been set yet, she had already sent several of Emilâs works to Count Conwell and asked him to schedule it soon.
She had no concern that the gallery wouldnât be rented.
After all, it was Count Conwell himself who had requested Emilâs paintings.
âBefore Henryâs solo exhibition becomes the talk of high societyâŚâ
Rebeccaâs lips curved languidly.
After having her maids look into the rumors circulating in high society.
They said that among those who visited Henryâs solo exhibition, praise for House Bayernâs refined discernment was overflowing.
But if she too held an exhibition at Count Conwellâs gallery, the topic of a one-armed orphan painter would sweep through high society.
Leaving the private chamber, she returned to âher bedroom.â
âWhen we first started sleeping in separate rooms, I was so angryâŚâ
These days, she thought it was for the best.
At least she didnât have to see that stupid face of his, passed out drunk while reeking of another womanâs traces.
Besides, every time they slept together as husband and wife, it went beyond being bothersome and felt downright repulsive.
âŚIf only her husband resembled Duke Bayern even a little, it might not have been that repulsive.
Suppressing her anger toward her pleasure-seeking husband, she picked up her quill pen.
She planned to mention in advance the exhibition she was preparing to acquaintances and to those she had seen at Henryâs solo exhibition.
Even if her reputation wasnât what it used to be, no one would dare ignore the name of House Nord, so they would surely attend.
âOh, right. Now that I think about itâŚâ
Rebecca paused mid-stroke as she wrote in her elegant hand.
Sheâd forgotten for a moment, but wasnât she herself a member of the Delphinium Foundation?
âWait⌠why didnât I think of that?â
A good idea came to her.
A way to restore her tarnished reputation through this opportunity.
A meaningful smile spread across Rebeccaâs lips.
