A Gamble Called Marriage - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

—

 

‘Hahaha.’

 

Mael’s abrupt burst of laughter still lingered in Charles’s ears. Just yesterday, because of Mael’s laughter, Charles couldn’t bring himself to ask further about what “that” was with Yves from “before.”

 

After laughing long and hard, Mael finally stopped and silently stared at Charles. Despite everything, Mael coldly warned the partner he’d been with for a year:

 

‘Stop it, now. I’m not joking.’

 

His partner wasn’t exactly the humorous type. In fact, Charles was the kind of person who could easily disguise Mael’s deep reflection and affectionate gestures as “repeated harassment intended to harm the other party’s mental health.”

 

So yesterday, Charles could say nothing and had to settle for watching Mael’s dry back.

 

Maybe that’s why he’d been simmering all day. Heading toward the Riviera Hotel Casino at the Crown Prince’s summons, Charles called Antoine, the head attorney of Law Firm 377 and his father.

 

― Dian says he cherishes him. Says he’s an indispensable asset to the family law division.

 

His father’s response was disappointing, however.

 

“Father, I’m not telling you to actually fire him. Just enough to make him feel the pressure.”

 

― He’s been causing such a fuss, so I spoke to Dian about it. What more do you want? What if he decides to start his own firm?

 

“What? That little—”

 

― Montmathieu’s success rate is high, and his reputation as a lawyer who cares for his clients is stellar. Plus, with his sister marrying Philippe, public interest has soared. If he decides to go independent now, it’ll be our loss.

 

It was laughable how someone who only dealt with family law was scurrying about more than someone like him, who handled corporate advisory work. Charles gripped the wheel tightly and found a flaw to point out.

 

“The prenup case was only because of Mael. What if that ends up damaging our firm’s relationship with the ducal family?”

 

― Don’t be ridiculous. The ducal family isn’t some gambler playing with money. A prenup is just a formality for them. The real decisions have already been made.

 

Charles knew his father wasn’t just saying that.

 

His father had been a longtime friend of the current Duke, Lucien, and had once been part of the ducal family’s dedicated legal team. He had worked there for ten years before leaving to take over the firm founded in his grandfather’s time.

 

― Just make sure to keep things smooth on that end. Your brother will inherit the firm, so you should aim to be the dedicated lawyer for the next generation of the ducal family.

 

The path his father had walked would also be Charles’s, though the order might differ. At least he wasn’t the eldest son, which meant he’d been assigned to the Duke’s sons, largely because he was around their age. Charles let his father’s advice pass in one ear and out the other as he ended the call.

 

‘If I can’t keep pressing on this…’

 

Was this really how things would end with Mael? For real?

 

I, who am not even gay, endured physiological revulsion to date him for a whole year, and this was all over a little fooling around with a woman?

 

“Damn it.”

 

He blared the horn out of frustration. After venting his anger on several innocent cars, the destination finally came into view.

 

The Riviera Hotel.

 

Originally, along with the Monte Carlo Hotel, it had been a project heavily funded by the Monaco ducal family.

 

Unlike the luxurious, classical Monte Carlo Hotel, the Riviera Hotel boasted a modern and sophisticated atmosphere, perched at the edge of a cliff with the sea just below its balconies. Unlike Monte Carlo, where the hotel and casino were separate buildings, the Riviera had its casino buried deep in the underground levels of the hotel.

 

“Useless bastards.”

 

The hotel, situated right on the Côte d’Azur coastline, would thrive even if left untouched. Felix, however, had spearheaded a project to turn it into a chain.

 

It was ridiculous for someone with his harebrained ideas to succeed in the first place. Sure enough, the Riviera Hotel Chain project, which had expanded worldwide, ended in failure, nearly bankrupting the ducal family.

 

‘It caused a proper uproar.’

 

The Duke sold off shares of every venture except the Monte Carlo Casino, the symbol of Monaco and the ducal family.

 

Was it around the time they considered levying income taxes, which hadn’t been collected for nearly 150 years? There were even rumors of secret meetings held in the ducal palace to discuss the matter.

 

Yet, after all the chaos, Monaco remained one of the world’s premier tax havens for one reason only:

 

A bastard who seemed to have risen from the underworld like Hades himself.

 

“That damn prick.”

 

The man who had bought up as many Riviera shares as possible and taken over as CEO overnight—the crown prince Felix’s savior.

 

Charles cursed under his breath as he recalled that pale, unsettling face.

 

“There’s definitely something between Mael and that bastard.”

 

The way those murky eyes looked at Mael wasn’t surprising in itself. Mael was a stunning beauty, after all—a man whose face alone could elicit physical reactions.

 

But the way that crown prince addressed his sulking lover was hardly ordinary, not just shock or curiosity.

 

“Well, I guess I have no choice.”

 

He didn’t want to lose Mael. Even if he couldn’t progress physically due to revulsion and only received oral favors, it didn’t matter. Enduring that much was proof of true love, wasn’t it?

 

As long as he was discreet, he could continue sleeping with other women and manage things just fine.

 

“Maybe I should let those arrogant bastards know today.”

 

That he was dating Mael.

 

With his fantastic looks, respectable job, decent intellect, and incredible luck at gambling, Mael had everything. Even his lack of family connections was covered by Manon. Thanks to his bartender sister, Mael would soon become part of the ducal family.

 

It was worth the humiliation of being seen as gay in public.

 

‘Times are better now; I can even claim discrimination if anyone says anything.’

 

Weighing the pros and cons, the benefits far outweighed the drawbacks.

 

Charles tossed his keys to the valet and thought, “This is why I deal with those arrogant ducal sons. It’s what I’m here for.”

 

—

 

The Riviera Hotel Casino, deep within its most exclusive members-only suites, housed a private cabinet accessible only to those personally invited.

 

The room was filled only with bodyguards. For some reason, the usual crowd wasn’t present today, leaving just Philippe and Yves, making Charles’s confession easier.

 

“Actually, Mael and I are dating. Seriously. It’s been a while. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

 

Mael disliked drawing attention and had no complaints about keeping their relationship secret.

 

By telling the Crown Prince this now, Mael wouldn’t correct the situation at least until the wedding. That amount of time was more than enough to win Mael back.

 

“What? You’re dating? Seriously? You and Mael? That Mael, Manon’s brother?”

 

Felix, half-using his martini glass as an ashtray while checking his cards, looked up. His mouth hung open.

 

“So, during tennis, I was the only straight guy on the team? Ugh, disgusting! What a spectacle.”

 

“I find other men besides Mael disgusting too.”

 

“I know. You’re crazy about women.”

 

Beside Felix, who shook with laughter, Charles turned to Yves. The hotel CEO, showing no particular reaction, checked his cards before placing a few brown chips in the pot.

 

“Well, honestly, if it’s Mael, I get it. But seriously, Charles, you’re so shallow when it comes to appearances.”

 

Philippe let out a low chuckle at the Crown Prince’s remark. Tossing a pile of chips without even glancing at his cards, he was clearly high on whatever new drug he’d tried.

 

Felix’s eyes gleamed at his brother’s laugh, wearing the face he had right before spewing more nonsense.

 

“Come to think of it, Manon turned her life around with just her face, and Mael’s even prettier than her.”

 

Philippe, who had been sitting silently, blinked and reached out. Charles thought it might be for his collar, but instead, the martini glass filled with cigarette butts was sent flying. Landing softly on the plush carpet without breaking, its contents of dry martini and ashes soaked Felix’s trouser leg and shoes.

 

“Damn it.”

 

“Watch…your mouth. Are you saying I picked someone ugly?”

 

“Now I’m soaked. Can’t even joke? You’re no fun. Just leave, brother.”

 

The meaning of the head nod was obvious. Another martini glass, filled to the brim, was promptly delivered. Charles stood as well. Supporting Philippe, who was of a similar build, the eldest son of the ducal family murmured as he leaned on him.

 

“Manon, I want to go to Manon. Where…is she? Ask her, quickly.”

 

Ah, damn. How long would Charles have to keep cleaning up after these arrogant bastards?

 

Taking Philippe’s phone, Charles entered the password. He opened the app and sent a message asking where she was. Less than a minute later, the Duke’s eldest son was already nagging.

 

“What did Manon say? What’s she doing? Ask her. Call her…no, make her reply quickly.”

 

“Yes, just a moment.”

 

“And the prenup…get her to sign it, quickly. Why hasn’t that been done yet?”

 

“She’ll sign it soon. Before the wedding. She has no choice.”

 

“She can’t break it off…I prepared so damn well this time.”

 

Charles half-listened to the muttering as he sent a couple more messages. By the time he left the casino, a reply from Manon had arrived, but Philippe was no longer in a state to register it.

 

Manon, sorry, but Father has called for me, so I can’t talk today, Charles replied hastily, typing whatever came to mind. Then he called for two bodyguards.

 

“Let’s take him to any available suite.”

 

Just in case, Charles had to follow them to the hotel room. Above all, he needed to secure Philippe’s phone.

 

If Felix was openly crazy, Philippe was rotten on the inside.

 

And how he loved to take photos and videos. It was terrifying to think what kind of pictures or footage might be on Philippe’s phone, which he often casually handed over to Charles, asking him to handle things.

 

No matter how many times Charles advised him not to take or store such things because losing the phone would mean the end—it couldn’t even be defended legally—Philippe never listened.

 

“Manon stepped in it big time too, no doubt.”

 

Charles briefly felt sympathy for her. After all, he was just as miserable himself.