Chapter 20: The Morning Of The Scandal

Leila opened the door.

“Brother, we agreed to meet at this time, and—”

She froze in shock when she saw her brother and his wife locked in an embrace, exchanging kisses in the office. The door closed involuntarily behind her.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to… I’ll come back tomorrow. Just continue what you were doing.” Her face flushed crimson with embarrassment.

Olivia pulled away from Matthias, their breaths still mingling in the air.

“It seems she’s gone.”

She removed her hands from his neck and looked at him.

“Matthias, you can remove your hands from my waist, as you know.”

He realized his position and quickly withdrew his hands, the air between them thick with awkward tension.

Olivia glanced at Matthias with a hesitant look, her voice faint and measured, as if carefully weighing each word before speaking:

“I think we should finish our conversation tomorrow.”

She turned to leave, but his hand moved with a swift grace, catching her wrist and pulling her back to him, leaving no room for protest.

She glared at him, her eyes aflame with anger, and demanded:

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Matthias’s face remained calm, devoid of emotion, as he replied in a voice so steady it bordered on unnerving:

“Wait a moment… Sit down.”

Though reluctant, she complied, lowering herself onto the chair while her gaze lingered on him, searching for answers in his enigmatic expression. There was always something veiled behind his composed demeanor, something she could never fully grasp.

From the corner of his desk, Matthias retrieved a handkerchief. Then, in an unexpected gesture, he knelt before her. The act disarmed her entirely, confusion flashing across her features.

He reached out, and instinctively, she pulled back, her voice edged with caution:

“What are you doing?”

With a soft sigh, as though her reaction was an inconvenience, he said:

“There’s no need for alarm. It’s just… there’s blood on your chin. When you—well, you know.”

The implication was clear, and Olivia’s lips tightened as understanding dawned. She didn’t resist when he brought the cloth to her face, dabbing gently. Her eyes stayed fixed on his, studying the cold detachment that never seemed to leave them.

When he was done, she broke the silence with a voice void of warmth:

“I asked if you killed him.”

Matthias didn’t flinch, his response unwavering:

“Yes, I did. Is that a problem?”

She stared at him with a hollow expression, as if the confirmation came as no surprise. Finally, she said:

“He deserved to die… I see no problem.”

Rising to his feet with deliberate calm, Matthias gestured toward the door.

“I’m done. You can leave now.”

Without another word, Olivia stood and left the room, her silence lingering in the air long after she disappeared.

The door had barely closed when a figure emerged from the shadows of the balcony. Leaning casually against the frame, Leon’s smirk was both mocking and sly.

“I see you’ve taken good care of your wife’s face, brother,” Leon drawled. “But perhaps you should tend to your own. There’s lipstick on your lips.”

He chuckled wickedly, pointing toward Matthias, who remained unruffled. Wiping the smear from his mouth with a finger, Matthias fixed Leon with a cold, unyielding stare.

“Perhaps you should mind your own business, Leon.”

Leon raised his hands in mock surrender, feigning innocence.

“I meant no harm, dear brother.”

Matthias allowed a brief smile to touch his lips, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual grim expression.

“Leon,” he began, his tone measured, “what’s your take on the duchess’s recent behavior?”

Leon shrugged with feigned indifference.

“Who knows? Maybe she’s concocting a new scheme with her treacherous father. But the real question is… what’s wrong with you? How could you so casually tell her you killed Baron David? Don’t tell me you trust her?”

Matthias’s lips curved into a confident smile, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“She won’t tell anyone.”

Leon arched a brow, intrigued.

“And why are you so certain?”

Matthias’s gaze grew sharper, his voice dropping to a low, deliberate cadence:

“Who was the one abused by the baron?”

“The duchess,” Leon answered, his curiosity piqued.

“And who would be the prime suspect if the baron were found dead, and she accused me of his murder?”

Realization dawned on Leon’s face, and he grinned, leaning back with a newfound ease.

“Ah, I see. She won’t speak because it would put her under immediate suspicion. Clever. I must say, it’s fortunate I’m your brother and not your enemy, or I’d be a dead man by now.”

The two shared a brief laugh, but Matthias’s expression soon darkened. He leaned slightly closer, his voice turning ice-cold:

“Yes… you would be dead.”

The laughter died in Leon’s throat as a chill ran down his spine. He swallowed hard, the weight of Matthias’s words pressing down on him.

Clearing his throat, Leon stood abruptly.

“Well, I think I’ll go change now. Goodnight, brother.”

Matthias nodded, his lips curling into a faint, unreadable smile.

“Goodnight.”

As Leon left, the room fell silent, save for the faint creak of the door closing. Matthias remained still, his eyes staring into the distance, lost in thoughts that seemed to grow darker with every passing second.

The morning felt unbearably heavy for Olivia. The room’s outlines blurred into shadows that swayed before her sleep-heavy eyes, only to be interrupted by Kira’s sharp voice, piercing through the silence.

“Milady! Wake up quickly!”

Olivia cracked her eyes open reluctantly, staring at Kira with an expression of sluggish confusion.

“What is it, this the second time? Why all this commotion?”

Kira’s voice trembled, her face pale as if she had seen a ghost.

“The Empress and His Highness, the Crown Prince, are here!”

Olivia bolted upright as if struck by lightning, her wide eyes betraying her shock.

“The Empress? Here? Why?”

Kira shook her head helplessly.

“I don’t know, Milady, but something feels… off.”

Her hands trembling, Olivia hastily dressed, her mind spinning with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. She masked her unease behind a veneer of composure, but her hurried steps toward the guest chamber betrayed her growing anxiety. Her heart pounded as if warning her of the storm brewing beyond that door.

Just as she reached for the handle, a firm grip yanked her arm, pulling her roughly into an adjacent room.

She spun around furiously, only to find Kyle, his face flushed with anger, his eyes blazing as if a volcano simmered beneath his composed exterior.

He shoved her into the room and slammed the door shut behind them. Olivia wrenched her arm free, rubbing her wrist where his grip had left it reddened. Her voice was sharp with fury.

“What’s wrong with you? You nearly broke my hand!”

Kyle’s voice was low but crackling with restrained rage.

“I wish I had. But no—what I should’ve broken was my own hand the day I trusted you to help me.”

Her confusion deepened, her brows knitting together as she searched his face.

“What are you talking about?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he snatched a newspaper from a nearby couch and hurled it toward her, his words seething with venom.

“Still playing the innocent? You’re a devil… a devil wrapped in human skin!”

With trembling hands, Olivia caught the newspaper. Her eyes darted across the front page, the bold headline striking her like a physical blow:

“Breaking News: A Scandal Between the Crown Prince and the Former Duke of Lucron’s Daughter. A Child Born Out of This Union—The Future Heir? What Will Become of Her?”

Her eyes widened in genuine horror. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“How? How did they find out?”

Kyle’s fury erupted like a dam breaking.

“Are you trying to drive me insane, Olivia? It’s obvious—you’re the one who leaked it!”

He advanced toward her, his hand raised in frustration, but before he could take another step, the cold gleam of steel halted him in his tracks.

Kyle froze, his body stiffening as he felt the sharp edge of a blade resting against his neck. Slowly, he turned to see Matthias standing behind him, his sword unwavering and his expression colder than ice.

Kyle’s voice faltered, thick with fear. He instinctively touched his neck to ensure it was still intact.

“Matthias, have you lost your mind? You nearly killed me!”

Matthias lowered his sword with a deliberate slowness, his icy demeanor unshaken. His voice, calm yet chilling, cut through the tension like the very blade he held.

“And by what right do you raise your voice and interrogate my wife in such a manner?”

Matthias is protecting her, but even he must be wondering about that headline!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep