A Gamble Called Marriage - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

It was an unexpected blow.

 

From what Maël had seen in the dossier, he deeply cherished his only sister. Mentioning her pregnancy should have been enough to make Maël bow his head.

 

But.

 

“You’re outright rejecting the proposal without even listening properly?”

 

For a moment, Yves froze, then smiled with annoyance. Perhaps noticing the irritation leaking through, the lawyer put on a professional smile.

 

“It’s not because of my luck, is it? That’s just an excuse. Since you’re already aware of my sister’s situation.”

 

Clear eyes fixed on Yves.

 

“If you want to have a proper consultation with a lawyer, you need to clearly state what you want. If you’re going to keep things vague, I’ll refuse to take on the case, no matter what you say.”

 

So, you’re not an idiot.

 

The belatedly conditional response from the lawyer was ultimately a classic tactic: first, probe deeply to see how much Yves wanted him.

 

Reading the dossier in advance had been Yves’ mistake. He had made premature judgments and, during the negotiation, had let his expressions and feelings slip.

 

“What do you want from me?”

 

Even though his words suggested he was leisurely rejecting the offer, in reality, the lawyer had rushed all the way here without waiting for the consultation scheduled in a few days. Like a guard dog protecting its owner—his sister.

 

A strange irritation brewed, and the human before him started to feel tiresome. For some reason, Yves craved a drink. Rising from the sofa, he opened the concealed liquor cabinet.

 

“Two things.”

 

Among the countless bottles, Yves chose the smokiest whiskey. Pouring two glasses, he continued.

 

“First, you take on my paternity suit and win. I don’t care how much it costs.”

 

“I don’t have to be the one—”

 

“I’ve already informed you. I don’t want this to spread further. You take it on.”

 

It wasn’t a request; it was a command. Maël didn’t respond to that.

 

When Yves returned to his seat and handed him the glass, Maël made a disgusted face. Polite yet reluctant, he barely sipped, shuddering as he recoiled.

 

His reaction perfectly matched Yves’ intent. Yves laughed, and Maël set the glass down. The movement caused a few flower petals to fall onto the envelope placed on the table. Taking another sip, Yves spoke.

 

“And the other thing is your sister’s shares in the Monte Carlo Casino. I want to buy them.”

 

A faint sigh escaped Maël’s lips.

 

It didn’t take long for him to respond. After a brief exhale, he spoke calmly, as though he had already sorted everything out in his head.

 

“There are a few issues. First, regarding your initial demand, as you know, I’m affiliated with a law firm. Larger lawsuits like this require teamwork, which means more people will be aware of the case. Moreover, our firm—”

 

“—is close to the ducal family?”

 

Was there a major law firm in Monaco that wasn’t?

 

Monaco, apart from Vatican City, was the smallest country in the world. Perched on mountainous coastline, its skyline was packed so densely with buildings that it hurt the eyes, and within its cramped quarters, every luxury brand imaginable had established a presence.

 

An Aston Martin next to a Rolls-Royce, with a Bugatti in front; Zegna and Harry Winston stores leading into Richard Mille. In every shop window, a neatly framed photograph of the ducal family adorned the corners, as if to remind everyone that this tax-free haven for millionaires was a gift from the dukes.

 

Despite being a modern capitalist paradise, the ducal family’s influence remained as potent as it had been before the French Revolution.

 

“Well, your firm also handled your sister’s prenuptial agreement, didn’t it?”

 

“That’s different. Prenups are standard practice in Monaco, and I didn’t personally—”

 

“Use your wits to shield me. I don’t want more people to know. If needed, leave the firm and go independent.”

 

It was an offer to fund him sufficiently. Hearing this, Maël’s arched eyebrows briefly rose. Then he continued calmly.

 

“And regarding your second request, my sister doesn’t hold any shares in the Monte Carlo Casino. Even after marriage, she probably won’t—”

 

Thump, thump.

 

Yves hated when well-known facts were tediously laid out. Interrupting Maël, he tapped the envelope on the table with his index finger. Maël brushed off the fallen petals carefully before picking up the envelope.

 

“May I open this?”

 

Without a reply, Maël, unable to hide his discomfort, opened the envelope.

 

Inside were about thirty photos. Yves watched in silence as the man flipped through them one by one.

 

The lips that had drooped downward like a bird’s beak stiffened, as did his plump cheeks. His widened eyes, shocked at first, darkened and sank. By the time he had gone through ten photos, the lawyer seemed to have seen enough. He gathered the photos back into the envelope.

 

The envelope closed. Maël, horrified, took another swig of the whiskey he had detested earlier and set the glass down with a clink.

 

“You’re showing me this because of what Philippe did, right?”

 

For once, there were no unnecessary questions. As Yves idly twirled his glass, Maël closed his eyes tightly, then opened them.

 

“This level of violence should be reported.”

 

“Three of the four changed their names. I paid each double the settlement offered by the ducal family to get this.”

 

It meant the victims would have sued long ago if they could have. Understanding this, Maël’s clenched fists trembled, and a pink flush spread under his eyes.

 

Yves set his empty glass on the table and pushed the envelope toward Maël.

 

“I’m lending it to you.”

 

His gaze landed on Maël’s flushed cheeks. Unbothered, Yves continued.

 

“The prenup is a mess, isn’t it? This will help with negotiations.”

 

“So, you want me to take these, and handle the two things you requested? Manage your paternity lawsuit and secure Monte Carlo Casino shares?”

 

Quick comprehension was appreciated. It would have been better if he didn’t confirm things both parties already understood or ask tiresome questions.

 

With such idle thoughts, Yves noticed Maël’s flushed eyes and reddened neck.

 

“Are you insane?”

 

So that’s how he looks when angry. Those already large eyes seemed to burn with a fiery intensity.

 

“Why ask?”

 

“After showing me something like this, you want me to quietly handle a prenuptial agreement negotiation? Do you really think I’ll let my sister marry a crazy bastard who beats people?”

 

Yves added a personal remark about the talkative lawyer, calling him a beauty who stood out in the dark.

 

“She’s beautiful even in the dark, but she’s most impressive when she’s angry in the dark.”

 

Only after finishing this thought did Yves leisurely speak.

 

“What if I don’t?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Was it you, not Manon Munmatié, who was supposed to marry?”

 

“….”

 

“Is there really a need to quarrel with your grown-up sister? If it were me, I’d respect her decision and help her. In a way that benefits her.”

 

With a sharp jab, the lawyer seemed to flinch, almost as if he’d been slapped across the face. He was someone who often simmered with anger, only to cool it down quickly. For a moment, Maël glared at him as though he wanted to kill him, then exhaled deeply and managed to regain his composure.

 

“I think I understand what you’re trying to do, Yves.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“I get it—power struggles with the high-ranking folks. You’re trying to grab some shares and establish a foothold. Tourism and casinos, especially the Monte Carlo Casino, which, even though its importance has diminished a bit recently, is still the most symbolic business owned by the ducal family.”

 

The man in front of him had been practicing family law for years. In Monaco, where even inheritance tax was not required, if you specialized in family law, you’d have seen enough of the dirty disputes within families.

 

The struggles of illegitimate children trying to squeeze into established positions, their obsession with symbolism, wouldn’t be anything new to him.

 

Yves didn’t deny it. Everything he said was correct, so there was no need to argue.

 

Had there been more whiskey left? Yves looked at his glass to check, when a clear voice suddenly rang out.

 

“I understand your situation, but honestly, it’s absurd to think I would marry off my sister after seeing something like this. I’m sorry, but I must refuse to take the case.”

 

Yves picked up his whiskey glass. The wedding was less than a month away, and inside Manon’s belly was Philippe’s bastard child.

 

“Do you really think you can ruin the wedding?”

 

If anything, Yves found this absurd.

 

He would come back. The situation was obvious. He was certain of that, but the fact that it would take this long irritated him. Yves stood up and walked toward the desk.

 

He pressed the intercom briefly, and not long after, the door swung open. Maël, seeing the secretary, narrowed his eyes and stood up, realizing the dismissal had been issued.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet your expectations,” he said with a polite, insincere tone. Yves took a sip of the whiskey that now smelled of cigarette ash and nodded his head.

 

“Michola. Cancel the next consultation and send the consultation fee to the law firm.”

 

“I didn’t come here for a consultation today. Personally… I came on my own, and it’s fine.”

 

“I mean, don’t go around talking after being paid.”

 

After saying that, Yves stared intently at him. It seemed as though a word from the lawyer might make him feel better, but the irritating lawyer merely nodded lightly and turned to leave.

 

“You.”

 

The call to stop him came almost impulsively. Yves slowly asked as the lawyer turned his head.

 

“Do you happen to know any gay friends?”

 

“What… friends?”

 

“I’d like an introduction. Someone who could show me something as fun as last time.”

 

At that, Maël’s face twisted in distaste. Without answering, he strode off and slammed the door behind him. As he did, a few dark red rose petals fluttered down onto the table.

 

The irritability didn’t subside. Yves poured the remaining liquor into his throat.