The Mistress Runs Away - 32.2 - Sleepy Translations
4-5 minutes 16.02.2021
“Just keep doing that.
A low voice made her emerald eyes flicker.
Killian was whispering, a smirk on his face.
“I don’t care what you think in your head.
Whether you hate me or think you want to kill me.
He knew he had committed an act of cruelty unto this fragile woman, so much that it was unlikely to be forgiven so easily.
Back then he took the woman, who was confessing her love for him, and pressed her down.
As if mocking the slight resistance that had quickly become insignificant due to familiar pleasure.
Then, the following day, as a return to her desperate confession, he threw money at her.
Only after five years did he finally admit that it had been an unnecessarily cruel end.
But there was no point in regretting it now.
If it had all fallen apart, he could just build it up again.
A silence fell, and Rowena, barely able to speak, shook her head.
It was a masquerade that they both knew was a play anyway.
They were on the top of a sandcastle that could collapse at any moment.
It was like the deepest ocean.
Even if they could struggle through the current and get to the surface, there would be no rescue.
That’s right—a play.
All the necessary roles were on stage.
Until the curtain completely dropped and the spotlights were extinguished, Rowena decided to continue this silly play.
This was the first time she called him by his name after their reunion.
He touched the woman’s lips casually without making any particular expression as if he was a wall who would remain unmoved even if the woman in front of him cried or screamed.
“Actually, I have a wish.”
“And it is”
Rowena rubbed her cheek against the slender neck beneath his sharp jawline, like a cat trying to flatter its owner.
“When the snow melts, I want to go to that island again.”
That island where you abandoned me and married another woman.
An island that once again overlays a nightmare on top of nightmares.
Instead of replying, Rowena slowly closed her eyes as his hands that were holding her waist made their way to her shoulder and began to pull down the thin robe that was draped over her chemise.
“Let’s go to the capital first.
April is the social season.
We will hold as many banquets as you like and go to watch as much as you wish.”
He was a man who did not like to socialize.
Not only because he was uptight and quiet, but also because he was in a position where he didn’t need to worry about other people’s thoughts or judgments.
But she wondered why he was slowly changing.
No, she could care less about his mood swings; there was nothing at all that could spark her curiosity now.
What mattered was how to get away from this man, not what was in his head.
Rowena, who ignored the questions building within her, buried her face in his hard chest instead of replying…
―Listen to me, six months.
You have to endure that long.
―Tell him you want to go to the island in six months.
I’m going to do whatever it takes to get you and Damian off this island.
So I know it’s going to be hard, but you have to continue acting like you are now and break the boundaries of the duke.
Her maternal uncle, Jeremy Dish, was a man of his word.
If he said that, then he would do whatever it takes to make it happen.
Remembering her uncle’s words, Rowena took a deep breath of the soft scent that she would forever be unable to smell after the next six months.