But what enveloped her was not a tragedy. The moment their lips met, Grace’s eyes flashed open. The man, still wearing the face of the boy, showered her with fervent kisses.

She quickly gathered her senses. This was an opportunity to take advantage of her mistake.

“Leon…”

She was about to pretend to love him again, making him desperately fall for her. But then the man called her,

“Daisy.”

No, he hadn’t called her at all.

An incomprehensible despair engulfed her. Grace’s heart stopped for a moment, yet her body began to sway again. After being shaken like a doll for a while, she finally opened her mouth, which had been tightly sealed.

“My name is Grace.”

It was a confession that was perhaps decades too late. Still, the man said nothing, only pressing his lips against her cheek. Of all the kisses she had received from this man, this was by far the cruelest.

Indeed, it was a tragedy that had struck her.

When did she become so good at acting?

“Miss Bristol, if you get fired, maybe you should try acting?”

Indeed, who knew she had a talent for acting? Enough to deceive even herself.

“Are you okay?”

The man, who was drying her wet hair with a towel, asked. Grace snapped back to reality.

“I didn’t think I did it that rough to make you that mesmerized.”

At his teasing remark, she rolled her eyes and snatched the towel from him.

The man had been odd today.

After the affair, he returned to his usual slyself. The odd thing was that the affair had ‘ended’ just after one round. After reaching the climax, she thought he would pester her for more during the shower. However, it ended with just washing off her body.

Was this really the end?

Grace glanced at the man as she dressed in the neatly laid-out pajamas and exited the bathroom. He disappeared into the dressing room as soon as he put on his pajamas.

It was unbelievable. That man, starved for months, must have been incredibly hungry. That was why she braced herself all night like before. Even considering the pregnancy, she thought he would insist at least twice.

Was he holding back?

Nevertheless, throughout washing her, the man didn’t seem to be holding back. Rather, he appeared satisfied, like that odd day when he brought the Sinclair documents.

Lost in thought as she got into bed…

Growl.

Laughter erupted from the dressing room at that moment.

It turned out that she was the one who was hungry. Embarrassed by the noise loud enough to echo to the next room, she was about to cover herself with the blanket when the man returned to the bedroom.

He continued to laugh even as he pulled the cord to summon the maid. She wanted to pinch him for being so annoying.

Mrs. Appleby’s swan profiteroles would rival even against a fine restaurant.

While Grace was savoring the elegantly presented custard choux on the bed tray, the man leaned against the headboard and brushed her hair. She scooped a generous amount of cream on a piece of choux shaped like a wing and offered it to the man.

He shook his head and then, as if to compensate, lightly pressed his lips against hers.

This man clearly believed she loved him.

Yes, let him believe that… even after I’ve gone. Losing something you’ve once had hurts far more than never having it.

The man, having finished brushing, began to gently caress her belly.

“Is it moving now?”

“No, it seems to be asleep.”

“Was it tired because we bothered it too much?”

“Ugh, disgusting.”

Grace’s face contorted in disgust, and the man, chuckling to himself, suddenly asked.

“Do you want a daughter or a son?”

“I don’t know.”

There was no way, she had had the thought.

“Just not like you, I suppose?”

“Oh, you’ve just made a big mistake.”

“Mistake?”

“Mrs. Elizabeth Winston used to recite that prayer when carrying me. ‘I just hope he doesn’t take after his father.’ And you see the result.”

The man smirked disgustingly, prompting Grace to roll her eyes and turn away.

“So, would you prefer a daughter or a son?”

Either way, it was likely she wouldn’t get to hold it either.

“It doesn’t matter.”

It wouldn’t matter to him.

“As long as it stays by my side.”

The child was just an anchor, created to keep her by his side—no shipowner cared whether their anchor was blue or pink.

Her appetite vanished as quickly as it came.

Turning to ask for the tray to be removed, Grace froze. It was because the man held a navy leather box in his hand. He gazed at her face, then chuckled.

“You seem to know what it is already.”

Yes, unfortunately. It was unmistakably a ring box.

Grace recalled his engagement day. That day, he had her open every box but secretly hid this one. What emotions should she be portraying now?

As she hesitated, the box opened.

Why did her heart sink as if someone had cocked the hammer of a gun in front of her?

In the middle of the golden cushion sat a ring, far exceeding her expectations in value. The brand name inside the box caught her eye. Even someone as distant from wealth and luxury as she could recognize the renowned jewelry atelier.

A brand famous across the continent, chosen by a king for the engagement ring for his queen.

So, this was not a trinket even the wealthiest would buy on a whim. The platinum ring, resembling a tiara fit for royalty, was intricately adorned with diamonds. At its top, designed like a peacock spreading its feathers, sat a teardrop diamond larger than Grace’s thumbnail.

Clearly, it was unmistakably an engagement ring.

What was he thinking, ordering such a thing for her? Overwhelmed by confusion, Grace’s expression betrayed her role. The man, undoubtedly noticing her disarray, slipped the ring onto her left ring finger without a word.

Without a word. Not even uttering anything resembling a marriage proposal.

He smiled confidently, just as he had when he claimed her body, nonchalantly placing a ring on what was already his.

“It fits well.”

Was this just an extension of his desire to conquer her? The man pulled her close and kissed her greedily.

“Always wear it.”

Then he fetched two document envelopes from the console and handed them to her.

“Take a look.”

Inside, Grace found photos and blueprints of a building’s interior.

“…What’s this?”

“A penthouse.”

Could it be that he really planned to move her out of this annex?

Grace rummaged through the first envelope and gulped dry. It was a penthouse located in a skyscraper in Winsford City. Expecting more of the same, she casually opened the second envelope. Indeed, it was a catalog of penthouses.

However, the moment her eyes landed on the address written in the catalog, her thoughts froze.

What kind of scheme was this?

Despite the fact that she had anticipated every possible move from this man, this was not among them. The appearance of this unexpected variable sent her carefully laid plans into disarray. The man looked down at her surprised expression and laughed nonchalantly.

“You were curious about my plans.”

His tone was casual, but his eyes were deadly serious.

No, this can’t be. You, of all people? The most greedy and calculating? It makes no sense.

For life.

“Choose one. They’re all mine anyway, but if you want them all, there’s no need to choose.”

Grace stared at the photos and blueprints spread on the bed, repeating the same phrase like a mantra.

This was just a bigger prison.

“If you don’t like it, let me know. I’ll look elsewhere.”

To have stripped me of my dreams and freedom and then to act like a benevolent savior, it was revolting. She needed to steady her wavering heart. Grace shifted her gaze from her swollen belly back to the man’s face, which was still impeccably graceful.

Look closely, Grace.

Here you are, in such a wretched state, while he always remains as lofty as a swan. It’s always been this way from the first encounter to this moment. It will continue to be this way.

The swan’s neck, elegantly perched atop the custard, snapped and was consumed by Grace.

She chewed while repeating to herself.

This was the only future we have.

__