A Gamble Called Marriage - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

“There’s no need to debate. He just asked me to go with him. Am I not also a parvenu?”

 

“That’s… Mael, you’re different from that guy. What are you trying to say right now?”

 

Charles, startled by Mael’s sharp retort, stammered after freezing up momentarily.

 

“Of course, I’m different. I didn’t buy shares in the Riviera Hotel with my own money. It was entirely thanks to Manon.”

 

Charles leaned in closer, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brows. Mael could easily guess the tone and words that would follow this expression. Awkward attempts to console.

 

“Mael, I get it. You’re saying this because you’re jealous. I understand you’re still mad at me. But you heard earlier, didn’t you? My feelings, my plans for the future.”

 

Feelings and plans for the future—those were things people cared about when emotions still existed.

 

Mael wasn’t shouting out of jealousy. It revolted him that Charles acted rudely in front of others, talking about someone’s background and status. He was mortified at himself for ever agreeing to date such a person.

 

The fact that Yves, with his icy eyes, silently observed all this only made it worse. This was undeniably turning into a homoerotic drama.

 

“Mael, listen.”

 

“Don’t you understand when I say I don’t like you? Then I’ll report you for stalking to HR. This is the good part of workplace romance. When the disciplinary committee convenes, maybe then you’ll realize we’ve broken up.”

 

Only then did Charles’s expression twist comically. His blue eyes flashed with the unspoken meaning of “How dare you?” as he raised his chin and shot a sharp glare.

 

His gaze briefly flicked toward Yves before returning.

 

“Are you dating him?”

 

“I’m not.”

 

Mael answered only because he knew Charles would persist otherwise. But Charles didn’t stop.

 

“Do you know what kind of things that man says about you?”

 

“I said I’m not. Why are you asking if you’re not going to listen?”

 

“Mael, that man you’re defending…!”

 

Whether for dramatic effect or otherwise, Charles pointed a finger at Yves but abruptly stopped speaking.

 

It was all ridiculous. Mael had no interest in whatever Yves might have said about him.

 

As for Yves Valois and Charles Duberger, Mael’s regard for them was equally non-existent. He hadn’t spoken to take anyone’s side. He simply found Charles repulsive for calling someone a parvenu to their face.

 

‘It’s not like my support would make any difference to them anyway.’

 

Confident in this, Mael looked up.

 

Pale cheeks devoid of color, shadowed by dull gray eyes filled with boredom. Yves looked like someone dragged onto a stage he had no interest in, with an expression as low as his tone.

 

Yves calmly met Mael’s gaze and opened his mouth.

 

“I told him I’m drooling over you. You already knew that, didn’t you?”

 

After a long stare, that was all Yves said. Charles clenched his fists tightly, while Mael, utterly dumbfounded, couldn’t even laugh.

 

Charles, barking up the wrong tree, and Yves, provoking him endlessly. Mael’s thigh, which occasionally ached under stress, throbbed again.

 

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Mael started walking. He didn’t even want to waste a goodbye on the two of them, speeding up his pace to leave. A slow voice stopped him.

 

“Let’s do the consultation now. I don’t want to wait. It’s urgent.”

 

“I’m busy today…”

 

Without turning around, Mael instinctively spat out the easiest excuse. Then he remembered how Antoine had just told him to rest a few minutes ago.

 

Ha. Mael hesitated briefly before finally stopping. But if the first excuse didn’t work, he could always come up with a second.

 

“Yves, weren’t you summoned by His Highness? You must be busy.”

 

As he spoke and turned back, Yves was fiddling with his phone. After swiping a few times, he held it to his ear and said just two sentences.

 

“I can’t make it today. It’s a lawyer issue.”

 

Ending the call, Yves tucked his phone back into his sleek black suit jacket and looked at Mael. The man, who seemed equally rude to the Prince and Mael alike, stared at him as if answering silently.

 

He wasn’t busy.

 

There were no more excuses to make.

 

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a bad deal for Mael either. If he moved up the consultation with Yves, it would free up two extra hours to analyze paparazzi shots from a party to confirm whether Marchisio’s husband, embroiled in a bitter custody battle, truly had an alcohol problem.

 

“Where would you like to have the consultation?”

 

Mael spoke weakly. Yves didn’t answer but simply slid his hands into his pockets and tilted his head. The clear meaning: Follow me.

 

Mael swallowed something between a curse and a sigh.

 

“Hey! Mael! Are you seriously going with that guy?”

 

Charles’s shout echoed from behind. Startled palace staff hurried toward him from the end of the corridor.

 

“It’s nothing, damn it. Why is everyone making such a fuss?”

 

Charles’s huffing voice followed, but Mael, focusing solely on Yves’s broad, black-suited back, quickened his steps.

 

—

 

The Grand Ducal Palace’s outdoor parking lot. Yves stopped in front of a large black sedan that seemed to resemble him.

 

Without a word, Yves reached for the driver’s side door handle. Then, noticing Mael still standing at a distance, he turned and looked at him. After frowning slightly, Yves spoke.

 

“Are you not doing the consultation?”

 

A man who seemed to have tossed basic courtesy into the sea. Mael, thinking there was no point in arguing, reluctantly opened the passenger door.

 

The car was spacious by any measure. Yet, as soon as Yves sat in the driver’s seat, the scent of leather mingled with a whiff of fresh roses. While Mael didn’t mind the rose fragrance, the fact that it belonged to Yves made it unbearable. He debated opening the window and then glanced at his watch.

 

“Let’s just finish the consultation in the car. Say what you need to, and drop me off when you’re done.”

 

“As you like.”

 

Eve put on sunglasses as he spoke. Mael began to unfold the thoughts he had organized in his mind, one by one.

 

“The clauses you mentioned have been added, and the contract was completed today with signatures. While it’s against the rules to show the contract to third parties, if you feel uneasy because you can’t confirm it—”

 

“I’ve already reviewed the entire contract.”

 

Eve spoke lightly as he backed the car out. Mael bit the inside of his cheek with his tongue. How, exactly? But knowing would only create responsibility, so some things were better left unasked.

 

“I’ll send over the retainer agreement tomorrow. Please sign and return it.”

 

It was a choice meant to minimize face-to-face interaction, but Eve didn’t even nod in response. Assuming he must have heard, Mael continued.

 

“Even if I handle all the practical work, attorney Dian Croix needs to have a general understanding of what I’m doing. While he likely has no interest unless it concerns the man presumed to be your father, nothing we discuss will leave our team.”

 

“And if I say no?”

 

“Then you can’t work with me. I’m an attorney affiliated with 377, after all. I’ve mentioned this before.”

 

The large car smoothly exited the palace perched at the edge of the old city and headed toward the main road. Watching the rapidly changing scenery through the car window, Mael said,

 

“Once the retainer agreement is finalized, please send me any materials that could serve as evidence for the paternity lawsuit. The timing of the lawsuit will be adjusted as needed, and we’ll likely need to launch a media campaign before filing the case. The evidence might also be used for that, but I’ll update you when the time comes. Illegally obtained information will only be used for the media campaign. We’ll verify everything first. Hmm, I think that’s all I have to say for now. Do you have any questions?”

 

He probably didn’t. Mael glanced at his wristwatch, thinking so.

 

Three minutes.

 

The large car had just passed the National Tax Agency building and was preparing to merge into the main road. Mael was about to say, “If you don’t have any other questions, you can drop me off here,” when Eve pulled his chin in and looked at Mael. Through the sunglasses, his eyes were only half-visible.

 

“The question I asked earlier?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“The answer I didn’t hear before.”

 

The words left Mael momentarily breathless. Probably out of sheer disbelief, he convinced himself, while merely opening and closing his mouth. Eve spoke casually.

 

“Getting rid of a clingy ex is faster with a new lover.”

 

“No… For me, Article 1457 is faster. The Workplace Harassment Prevention Act.”

 

It was genuine, but Eve scoffed. That sound snapped Mael out of it, and he asked in a clear voice,

 

“Eve, you’re not even gay, are you?”

 

“Does what I get aroused by affect your answer?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

“If you’re asking if I’ve ever been interested in a man’s rear end, of course not.”

 

Such vulgar words weren’t worth responding to. Mael gazed out the window as if to purify himself. The Mediterranean and greenery, so vivid they almost hurt to look at. But focusing on them for long was impossible.

 

“At most, two years. In return, I can give you enough money to go independent from that firm or even shares in a hotel. If you don’t need money, information works too. Whatever you want.”

 

Whatever I want. And yet, Eve showed no hesitation in making such a grand offer.

 

A condition laid down by someone for whom such things were entirely possible and even natural. But Mael didn’t take long to think.

 

“Whatever your purpose, white or black, it doesn’t matter. I dislike lies and playing the part of a fake lover.”

 

“A lawyer who doesn’t like lying?”

 

“Especially outside the courtroom.”

 

It wasn’t worth deliberating. Looking straight ahead, Mael quickly added,

 

“Thanks to your help with the prenuptial agreement, I’ve taken on the paternity lawsuit. Let’s just remain as client and lawyer. Since we’re done here, you can drop me off there.”

 

Ahead, a bus stop and a cluster of cars near the Maritime Museum came into view along the road.

 

Surprisingly, the car stopped without any resistance. Mael checked his watch, debated briefly, and unbuckled his seatbelt.

 

“Consultation time: six minutes. I’ll add that to the tally.”

 

Three minutes of Eve’s nonsense should also be considered part of the consultation. After a moment of deliberation, Mael had come to that conclusion.