A Gamble Called Marriage - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Kissing passionately against the backdrop of pouring sunlight were my client and her lover.

 

Her pearly nails gripped his backside so tightly that his trousers wrinkled, and his hands were busy groping her chest. The heat mingled in their heavy breaths reached me even ten steps away.

 

It was a scene I hadn’t anticipated at all when I entered the smoking room of the Monte Carlo casino. Especially not while holding the documents my lover had supposedly forgotten.

 

“Ah…”

 

A moan slipped between the two, making the nape of my neck burn. Even after looking again, stifling my disgust, the man was indeed my lover—blond hair, the jacket he often wore, and the watch I’d given him as an anniversary gift.

 

I couldn’t bring myself to move or turn back. All I could do was bite my lips, and then, my eyes met someone else’s. Not my lover’s, but my client’s.

 

“Oh, Maël.”

 

“Madame Clermont.”

 

Her face was still flushed from the heat, and she awkwardly pulled away. As I approached at a deliberate pace, I extended a handkerchief to her.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Your lipstick is smudged.”

 

“Oh, goodness.”

 

She took the handkerchief awkwardly, wiped away the mess of pink lipstick, and then asked me:

 

“Is something wrong? Is it about the child support issue? Don’t tell me that bastard said he’d cut the money again?”

 

“No, there’s no need to worry. The child support matter has already been settled.”

 

“Then?”

 

Finally, I looked my lover in the eye.

 

“A colleague said you’d left some documents behind.”

 

“Oh, right. Charles and you are at the same firm, aren’t you? Different departments, though? Are you close?”

 

Instead of answering, I simply shrugged. I handed over the envelope with the documents to my dazed lover and gave a word of advice to the woman, who had already reapplied her lipstick.

 

“If I may, Madame Clermont, since the divorce proceedings are still ongoing, I recommend avoiding places like this, where photos could be easily taken. You know how difficult the opposing side can be.”

 

“So you’re saying that bastard could find a way to make trouble, right? Got it. But as long as we’re not caught—like, if we’re in a hotel room—it’s fine, isn’t it?”

 

She threw a flirtatious glance at my lover. I gritted my teeth for a moment but managed to smile and respond.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Good to know. Well, I have things to do. I’ll return the handkerchief later.”

 

Satisfied with my agreement, she waved her hand with a graceful smile, her vague gesture of farewell leaving the smoking room.

 

“……”

 

And then, perfect silence.

 

The pale face of my lover stood out under the soft sunlight of early spring. He crumpled the documents I had painstakingly brought, finally opening his mouth.

 

“I told you to leave the documents at the entrance, with the reception desk. I also had someone I needed to meet here today.”

 

No apology, not even an excuse.

 

The realization hit, and the calm I had tried to maintain turned into laughter. As I laughed and looked at his lipstick-smeared lips, he opened his mouth again.

 

“Look… I know this sounds ridiculous, but she was so persistent, and I got momentarily swayed. It was almost forced.”

 

“Forced?”

 

“Maël, I know this situation looks bad to you, but it’s not like that. It’s really not.”

 

What isn’t? When I looked at him in disbelief, he had the nerve to grab my hand.

 

“I realized it when I saw you here. That this is all just a joke and that you are the one who needs to be by my side.”

 

“If you realized it because you saw me here, does that mean you wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t been here?”

 

A defense too sloppy for someone who made a living with words as a lawyer.

 

I felt like throwing up. Struggling to suppress my disgust, I pulled my hand away. There was only one thing to say.

 

“I guess this is the end. Let’s not see each other anymore.”

 

I pulled at the bracelet hidden above my watch, snapping it off.

 

Thud.

 

The bracelet fell to the floor, hitting Charles before it landed. As he bent to pick it up, I turned my back on him.

 

No matter how much one puts themselves out there, office romances were never a good idea. The only silver lining in this mess was that our departments were on different floors.

 

“W-Wait, Maël!”

 

I was reaching for the door when Charles grabbed my shoulder. The force spun me roughly around.

 

“I can’t break up with you over something as insane as this crazy old woman throwing herself at me—”

 

“Charles, watch your mouth.”

 

“What?”

 

“She’s my client.”

 

“What… what did you just say?”

 

Charles’s blue eyes, just slightly above my own eye level, burned with anger at my defense of her.

 

“Did that woman try to seduce you too? Did you fall for it? You’re gay, aren’t you? Or are you siding with her because she’ll have some money after the divorce?”

 

“I have no personal feelings for Madame Clermont. She didn’t know about us, and even if she did, she and I have no personal commitments.”

 

“……”

 

“But Charles, you promised me we’d be lovers, and you didn’t keep that promise.”

 

My eyelids burned, and it was a miracle my voice didn’t tremble.

 

Hadn’t I explained it clearly enough by now? I felt like I was going to throw up again, but Charles kept shaking my shoulders instead of letting go.

 

“We were together for a year! I can’t break up with you like this. If I walk out now, I’ll tell my father everything. My colleagues are all friends of my father’s, cutting off a lawyer like you is nothing to them.”

 

“You’re threatening me now?”

 

“I can do it. You know how many women come to you for divorce consultations? If I tell them to get rid of you, it’s done.”

 

He brought that up, of all people. I stared at him in disbelief, my shoulders tightening in frustration.

 

“Or, yeah. Your sister’s prenuptial agreement, it’s still under review on our end, right? The wedding isn’t far off, and if you get kicked out and a new lawyer gets assigned, delaying everything, the Grand Duchy will be thrilled.”

 

The threat of not leaving was specific and surprising.

 

Hadn’t my heart already left, if I kissed someone else? Was there any reason to be caught up in this? I took a deep breath and sighed.

 

“If this is because of some ridiculous superstition like a lucky talisman, then no, Charles, I already told you I don’t believe in that kind of thing.”

 

“That’s not it! I love Maël Mormatié, dammit!”

 

A love confession from Charles that he hadn’t bothered with all year, but pulled out at the worst moment. How much lower could things get? My head throbbed, and my hands trembled.

 

As I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration—

 

Creeeak.

 

The sound of a lever being pulled echoed.

 

I opened my eyes to see the source of the noise—one of the slot machines standing upright against the wall, meant to block the cigarette smoke.

 

No need to question if I had misheard.

 

Ding-ding-ding-ding.

 

The sound of a slot machine spinning reached my ears.

 

I thought a pathetic love confession from a man caught in the act of cheating was the worst thing, but now there was an audience as well.

 

The muck always ran deeper. A family law attorney shouldn’t forget that.

 

Turning away belatedly, I saw Charles pale and flustered.

 

“Just not now, later, say it again. We’re still not broken up, right? Maël, if you block me, I’ll tell him right away.”

 

As Charles fled toward the door, I wiped my face and walked in the opposite direction.

 

‘Why now? Why would he be gambling at a time like this?’

 

I had no idea of his intent. Was he a reporter? If so, that was inconvenient. If not, then someone from this town—there would be plenty of explaining to do.

 

‘Please let him be a clueless foreign tourist.’

 

I prayed to a god I didn’t believe in as I reached the massive slot machine.

 

What greeted me was the deafening sound of a bell and the triumphant fanfare.

 

“Huh?”

 

Jackpot!

 

The screen, filled with painful bursts of garish colors, displayed the line of 7-7-7.

 

A jackpot. I’d never seen anything like it before. My mouth hung open in disbelief.

 

No need to press the cash-out button—the slot machine printed a white ticket instead.

 

500,000 EUR.

 

Half a million euros.

 

The jackpot that had spilled from the machine was snatched up by pale, long fingers. Those fingers pointed toward me.

 

“For the show.”

 

The wrinkled white ticket waved.

 

As I looked up, the man seated at the slot machine, leaning against it, spoke in perfect French.

 

“I watched you. A homo melodrama.”

 

He grinned lewdly, his scent of fresh roses heavy in the air.

 

*A lawyer affiliated with the firm.