A Gamble Called Marriage - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

—

 

Since knocking was banned, Micol, the secretary, opened the door roughly on purpose as if to be heard. Even so, the handle of the office door on the fifth floor of the Riviera Hotel moved smoothly without any noise. Perhaps it was because even the doorknob was lavishly invested in—it was undoubtedly different from the one in the previous office.

 

The Riviera Hotel chain business, established by the cursedly extravagant Sovereign Prince’s family, had deficits that were practically comedic. Yves, unable to take his eyes off the absurdity of the reports, looked up only after Micol approached boldly and handed him a black folder. Yves first finished reviewing the document he was reading and then raised his gaze.

 

The secretary, holding out the file, stood motionless. Only after Yves’s eyes met his did Micol straighten up and speak.

 

“This is the report you requested. Also, have you scheduled an additional appointment with Attorney Maël Mormatié outside of your consultation?”

 

“We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

 

“He’s waiting in the lobby now, asking if you could meet him today.”

 

It was days ahead of the scheduled consultation date. He didn’t seem like someone who would show up unannounced.

 

Instead of answering, Yves took the folder from the secretary and opened it.

 

“Court attendance?”

 

“He was bold in the courtroom—biting and cold. The ruling ended in favor of his client. If you’d like, I can arrange for you to observe the next trial.”

 

“There’s no need to go that far.”

 

Yves said this as he lowered his gaze to the few pages in the file.

 

Contained within was the neatly documented life of Maël Mormatié.

 

Monaco national, thirty years old. While pursuing a master’s degree in Paris, he passed the law school entrance exam and obtained his lawyer’s license at twenty-three. During his internship at a law firm, he was recommended by his mentor and entered Monaco’s legal field. A promising six-year senior associate attorney who had sprinted forward at full speed without pause or misstep. Specializing in family law, his nickname was “Cinderella’s Knight.”

 

As Yves scanned the content with his gray eyes and turned the pages, he asked, “Is this really all of his assets? No hidden money?”

 

“There are reporters digging into him as the only living relative of Prince Jaebin, but no, nothing.”

 

How could that be?

 

The roulette ball had stopped on the numbers Maël had chosen as if it were a well-behaved child. From players to dealers, several people praised the lawyer’s near-magical luck endlessly.

 

For someone blessed with that level of fortune, could he truly have so little wealth?

 

Unless his actions were foolish compared to his natural luck. But from what Yves had seen, Maël wasn’t like that. In that case, there was only one explanation.

 

“Does he dislike gambling?”

 

“Unless there’s a special reason, he doesn’t even go near casinos or place bets. If he receives chips, he uses them in the casino restaurants instead of cashing them out. If the amount is significant, he tips the dealers and leaves.”

 

This aversion to being involved with such money seemed almost compulsive. Yves raised an eyebrow and asked again.

 

“No connections with the dealers?”

 

Such unbelievable luck warranted suspicion at least once. Digging into it might even reveal something exploitable.

 

“There has already been an inquiry initiated by Prince Jaebin at the casino. Nothing was found. However…”

 

Yves turned his gaze to his secretary at the unprompted silence. Micol clasped his wrist, hesitated in rare deliberation, and then spoke a beat slower.

 

“There’s a rumor. That the dealers are smitten by his looks and intentionally throw in his favor or give him good hands.”

 

Yves stared blankly, but that was all. Since losing his left hand and wearing a prosthetic, Yves’s secretary neither lied nor joked. So it must have been a real rumor.

 

“Hah.”

 

Letting out a short exclamation, Yves finally recalled the man’s appearance.

 

A man as if painted with heavily diluted watercolors. When insulted, faint color would seep into his translucent cheeks. From his unnervingly large eyes to the slightly drooping corners of his mouth, every element contributed to his unique atmosphere. Rare and singular, an unusual kind of beauty.

 

Well, it was the kind of face that might warrant such rumors. A face that anyone might feel compelled to talk about at least once.

 

But that was it. Yves wasn’t interested in his striking looks.

 

“Ridiculous.”

 

With that, Yves flipped another page. Intrigued by its density, he saw it was about family relations.

 

Younger sister, Manon Mathieu. Their Korean-French mother died in a car accident. Their Monegasque father, a hotel manager, passed away due to illness.

 

The fact that the father’s final career included the Riviera Hotel caught his eye briefly.

 

“She’s on bad terms with her soon-to-be princely brother. After their mother’s accidental death, their father appears to have been abusive. Despite several police investigations prompted by neighbors’ reports, he was released each time due to the children’s testimonies.”

 

Micol reported the key points in time with the turning of the pages.

 

The man, who had been indifferently hearing the plain and common tragedies, suddenly caught on one word.

 

“Adopted?”

 

“Yes. Manon Mathieu is the biological child of Maël’s adoptive parents, born after he was adopted.”

 

So the man whose face had changed over his sister wasn’t even related to her by blood. When Yves raised his gaze slowly, Micol spoke mechanically.

 

“Recently, he seems to be searching for his biological parents. He was adopted from Korea, and not finding any information on them, he visited the Korean Embassy in Paris to conduct a DNA test.”

 

Feeling lonely because his unrelated sister was getting married?

 

Yves scratched his eyebrow and turned the page again. It detailed other relationships not categorized under career or family.

 

[ Gay. In a relationship with corporate attorney Charles Duverger from Law Firm 377. ]

 

The prolonged pause wasn’t due to shock but rather disappointment in his trusted secretary’s competence. When Yves pointed to that line with his fingertip, Micol answered.

 

“It’s difficult to say their relationship has completely ended, so I left it in. However, recent messages suggest a noticeable shift in their relationship.”

 

“Then why didn’t you just leave that part out?”

 

“Apologies. I can attach the messages and update it if needed.”

 

“That won’t be necessary.”

 

—

 

Having once witnessed a lover’s quarrel between homosexuals up close, Yves had no desire to read about it in text form.

 

He resumed reading the report. The rest contained only trivial details not worth remembering. Then, at the very end, he came across a single line that even Micol, who must have compiled the information, likely wouldn’t remember.

 

[ In addition to pro bono activities conducted by Law Firm 377, he also provides free legal consultations for victims of domestic violence in the Nice area. ]

 

Yves narrowed his eyes at the line. A faint chuckle escaped through his lips.

 

The report wasn’t long. Yet even with such a brief document, Maël Mormatié’s upright way of thinking was clearly discernible.

 

“Easy to read.”

 

Having become an orphan and drawn the unlucky card of ending up with terrible adoptive parents, he had lived as someone in need of help. Through unyielding effort, he had become someone who provides help, devoting himself to doing so.

 

It seemed you had to be at least this virtuous to earn the title of Cinderella’s Knight.

 

Turning another page, Yves found a few photographs attached.

 

“More unimpressive than expected.”

 

He muttered while looking at the black-and-white photographs. Tossing the folder onto the desk without much care, he watched as Micol, organizing the files, asked,

 

“Should I send him away?”

 

Ah, he had come, hadn’t he?

 

The consultation was a few days away anyway. Yves would have to meet him again and had already grasped the kind of person he was.

 

Perhaps returning the money as a token of secrecy had been a bit refreshing the first time.

 

After that? Who knows. It was obvious how he would react if provoked, and Yves could even predict what the lawyer would say upon coming upstairs.

 

‘Will he stand his ground and argue?’

 

In their previous meeting, Yves had deliberately provoked him by mentioning a secret. Now, if Yves revealed what he had prepared, the lawyer would likely cross the line in anger. He didn’t seem foolish enough to miss an opportunity to publicize the Sovereign Prince’s disgrace.

 

“It’s better to handle it quickly.”

 

Yves responded while staring at a dark green vase on the other side of the room. Three fully bloomed, deep red Baccara roses stood under the intentionally dim lighting, their vivid color straining his eyes.

 

After Micol left the room, Yves pressed the corner of his eyes with his fingers.

 

It didn’t matter if the Sovereign Prince’s sister’s brother turned out to be just a pretty and unimpressive man. Despite all the talk of luck, Yves had approached Maël out of all the overflowing pool of lawyers solely because he was the brother of Manon Mathieu, soon to be a member of the Sovereign Prince’s household.

 

There wasn’t much time left until Philippe and Manon’s wedding. The matters regarding their prenuptial agreement had to be addressed promptly.

 

Yves opened a drawer, retrieved a brown envelope, and tossed it onto the table. He leaned back on the sofa, waiting, and before long, the door swung open.

 

The door closed with a bang after admitting just one person. Following Micol’s no-frills introduction, a voice greeted Yves from a distance.

 

“Hello, Yves.”

 

Having witnessed the poor reception, Maël could have just come in and sat down. Instead, he simply stood stiffly. When Yves didn’t respond, Maël pointed out decisively,

 

“You haven’t told me to sit.”

 

The tone was soft but firm, a rebuke that finally made Yves lift his gaze.

 

There were people like that. The kind of beauty that stood out more in dim light than under natural or bright illumination, as if glowing alone.

 

Sandy-colored eyes and hair, pale skin, and light pink lips—common shades, yet the combination created a peculiar harmony that made the face unforgettable. Fine lines and well-balanced features.

 

His eyes were the most unusual feature. Wide and slightly upturned, their shapes subtly different on each side, as if inherited from two different countries.

 

“Come sit.”

 

At the nonchalant response, Maël approached. His nose and mouth were small, leaving all the vivid expressiveness concentrated in his large, clear eyes. He looked almost translucent, strikingly fresh.

 

A beauty who was unimpressive yet pleasant to look at.

 

“I came here today to decline your case.”

 

Just as Yves was about to acknowledge the observation, the lawyer said this as he sat down.

 

Nice – Nice is a beautiful city located on the French Riviera in southeastern France. Known for its Mediterranean charm, it offers a mix of stunning coastline, historic architecture, and vibrant culture. Key attractions include:

 

1. Promenade des Anglais: A famous waterfront stretch ideal for leisurely walks or cycling.

 

2. Old Town (Vieux Nice): Narrow streets filled with colorful buildings, quaint shops, and bustling markets like Cours Saleya.

 

3. Castle Hill (Colline du Château): Offers panoramic views of the city and the sea.

 

4. Museums: Includes the Musée Matisse and the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art (MAMAC).

 

5. Cuisine: Renowned for local dishes like socca (chickpea pancake) and salade niçoise.