A Gamble Called Marriage - Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

Fortunately, there was no need to step in and correct the massive misunderstanding. The waiter, who came over with the bill, gently asked:

 

“Sir, as per your request at the time of the reservation, today’s meal has already been charged to the card you provided. Is that alright?”

 

“Oh… I see. I must have forgotten.”

 

“Did you enjoy your meal?”

 

“It was absolutely delicious. Thank you.”

 

The conversation ended quickly. However, even though he didn’t have to pay over a thousand euros for a meal he didn’t enjoy, with someone he didn’t like, it didn’t leave him feeling any better.

 

As soon as the waiter disappeared, Charles grabbed him.

 

“What’s going on here? Didn’t you call me because you wanted to talk? Maël, you’re being awfully rude to me after inviting me here.”

 

“It seems you’re mistaken. I didn’t call you, Charles. Maybe you should find out who did.”

 

His frustration, compounded by simmering anger, was bringing his mood to rock bottom. Maël stared at the hand holding him, but Charles didn’t back off and smirked instead.

 

“Alright, fine. Yes, I was wrong to hurt you. It’s my fault, and I have no excuse. But, Maël, you know it too.”

 

He leaned in closer. The complex fragrance of a custom-made perfume, supposedly ordered from some atelier, wafted strongly.

 

“You know I wasn’t and still am not gay. That’s why I was confused, and I made one mistake. Just one. But now, I’ve told you I love you.”

 

Despite the distance between the tables, his voice was lowered as though he were sharing a secret.

 

What was there to be embarrassed about now? Everything was already over.

 

Even as he whispered, Charles subtly flaunted his wrist adorned with the watch Maël had given him.

 

“Can you buy this for me? A watch represents time, and it symbolizes the eternity of our relationship. I want to think of you every time I wear it.”

 

At that shameless request, Maël had nodded back then. Words like “eternity” and “family” made him weak. Even as a lawyer who profited from moments of family breakdown, he had arrogantly thought separation wouldn’t happen to him.

 

But whatever Charles thought of the old gift, his touch lightly trailed over Maël’s captured hand.

 

“You’re reminiscing about our time together too, aren’t you? See? That doesn’t just disappear. We had good times, didn’t we?”

 

Feeling nothing but disgust, Maël tried to pull his hand away, but Charles gripped it tighter with a smile.

 

“By the way, Felix suggested we meet together sometime.”

 

“His Highness… Why on earth would he do that?”

 

“It seems he somehow found out about us.”

 

“And what exactly are we?”

 

The incredulous question was met with Charles’ placating expression. His brow furrowed slightly, but his smile never faltered. Looking at that shameless face, Maël felt ashamed of himself for ever getting involved with him. Pulling his hand free, Maël stood up.

 

“Charles Duverger.”

 

He hated creating a scene, but he hated misunderstandings even more. Sometimes, humiliation served as the best solution when there was no rational way out. Especially since just yesterday, he had handed over the finalized divorce decree, including property division, for the Clément case.

 

In the restaurant filled with soft classical music, Maël spoke clearly.

 

“Our relationship is that you cheated, and we broke up. You can tell His Highness I find the idea of meeting together disgusting and that it won’t happen.”

 

He could feel the glances from nearby tables. Charles’ face, now clearly embarrassed, began to contort as he glanced nervously around, evidently not expecting such an outcome.

 

“You’ve got a strange sense of humor, Lawyer Munmatié.”

 

Leaving Charles awkwardly raising his voice behind him, Maël walked out of the restaurant.

 

He pressed his aching right thigh as he searched through his phone. About an hour ago, he had hesitated to call a certain number outside Le Louis. Maël had contacted that number twice, but the owner hadn’t answered.

 

“Hah.”

 

His eyes reddened as he climbed into his car and started the engine.

 

—

 

A message from his drunk half-brother arrived, thanking him for the watch.

 

Instead of replying, Yves reread the official document sent by the Grand Duchy. It was a request for cooperation regarding Prince Philippe’s wedding reception. It included a list of rooms to vacate, venues to be lent, and supplies to be prepared on their end.

 

Once he finished scanning the slanted text, the elevator doors opened.

 

The smell of dust was heavy. In the basement loading dock, where all supplies for the hotel came and went, this was unavoidable. The “supplies” included the hotel staff and their partnering companies, and Yves did not exempt himself from this.

 

A few people who recognized the CEO greeted him. Yves nodded back as he walked past them.

 

When he reached his parking spot, he found a pristine white car diagonally blocking his vehicle.

 

Unbothered, he approached it, and the driver’s side door opened. It was Maël.

 

The air in the dim, stifling dock was heavy with the movement of goods. Through it, the man approached him with a determined stride, his eyes burning with intensity.

 

“Take this.”

 

Maël held out a white envelope. Yves’ gaze lingered on Maël’s unusually vivid eyes longer than on the envelope itself. That fleeting moment was enough to tell Yves that Maël was angry. Maël always stood out more when he was angry.

 

But that was it.

 

Yves dropped his gaze to the envelope again, though, truthfully, he was far more curious about other things.

 

“How does an outsider who’s not even a contractor get in here?”

 

Yves tapped the tip of Maël’s shoe lightly with his own. Maël instinctively stepped back, and Yves muttered slowly.

 

“Do I need to replace the security team?”

 

“Getting into the loading dock past security isn’t difficult. No matter how many times you replace your team, it won’t make a difference. I know Riviera Hotel’s security better than most of them. Now, just take it already.”

 

Even while pointing out the flaw in the hotel’s security, Maël firmly held out the envelope. As Yves looked at it again, Maël gritted his teeth and offered an explanation.

 

“It’s the cost of my dinner today. It excludes the portion for Mr. Bernardi, whom you invited.”

 

“I invited you too.”

 

Yves responded. He couldn’t understand what Maël was trying to accomplish by coming all the way here to thrust a petty sum at him. Some laughable sense of pride? As he stared, Maël clenched his teeth and then spoke clearly.

 

“Yves, I’m not some puppet that moves according to your plans.”

 

When there was no response, Maël’s cheeks quivered, and he continued.

 

“I find it extremely unpleasant, so don’t ever act like that again. Pretending to be me and summoning someone without prior notice—if you do it one more time, I’ll take legal action for impersonation.”

 

“I thought we had a lot to discuss.”

 

“I can handle that much on my own. If you trust me so little, why are you even trying to hire me?”

 

His pale eyes burned with intensity, a heat Yves himself didn’t possess.

 

It was rather amusing. Wasn’t this the same man who worried over whether his cheating partner’s lipstick had smudged? The same person who’d advised others to let things go when they got annoying?

 

“I thought he was sharp-witted,”

 

And yet here he was now, chasing Yves down, fuming over some perceived slight to his pride.

 

At least the expression he wore while angry gained a touch of dramatic vitality that was somewhat watchable. It was one of the few redeeming qualities this lawyer had. Just as Yves concluded his thoughts, Maël clutched the envelope tighter and said,

 

“Take the money and stop creating situations I don’t know about, without consulting me. I’ll handle things myself.”

 

Seconds away from shoving the envelope directly into his hand, Yves deliberately didn’t accept it. Instead, he twisted his lips into a smile, and what escaped was a genuine question.

 

“You can handle it yourself?”

 

“Yes. And even if I make a hundred concessions, let’s say Bernardi’s involvement is one thing—do you have any right to interfere in my personal life?”

 

“Your partner seemed quite affectionate. It was different from what I’d seen or heard, so I wondered if it was a communication issue. It was a gesture of goodwill.”

 

Yves’ sarcasm landed hard. Maël’s face froze as though he’d been struck. His lowered lips quivered open, then shut again. Yves would have bet his entire fortune that Maël had swallowed back several choice insults. Suppressing his laughter, Yves asked,

 

“Have things been settled now?”

 

“Does it have anything to do with my work?”

 

“No, it doesn’t. It’s a personal matter. But.”

 

This wasn’t the moment or way Yves had intended to make such a suggestion. He knew it wasn’t the best timing, but curiosity overtook him. So.

 

“I need a partner.”

 

“…….”

 

“You seem suitable, but I don’t want to be the second choice.”

 

Yves spoke. Maël looked at him as if he didn’t understand, then twisted his face as though Yves had hurled the worst possible insult at him.

 

“If you agree, I’ll accept that envelope.”

 

The last part was a joke.

 

Lacking any sense of humor, Maël threw the envelope onto the floor, slammed his car door shut with a bang, and drove off.