Chapter 3

As I listened to the sobs coming from the inner room, I gazed up at the moon, my mind drifting far away.

Back in my previous life, I barely knew Scott. All I ever heard was that he was a wild playboy, and even after three years of marriage to Celia, they never had any kids.

Then, out of the blue, he dropped dead, and his parents, the Duke and Duchess, were consumed by sorrow and never recovered.

Now it seemed that Scott had a second shot, too, and he might not be dying when he was supposed to this time.

Whatever. He got plenty of ways to get himself killed if he really wanted to.

The bottom line was, I needed to have a kid, fast.

If there were no heir and Scott kicked the bucket, this whole estate would get swallowed up by the crown sooner or later.

I didn't come back to life just to end up as some empty widow with nothing left.

The next day, Trina showed up with a mountain of gifts, just like I expected.

She took my hand and called me her lucky star, while the maids behind her carried lacquered trays heaped with pearls, gems, and gold ornaments.

"All of this is for you," Trina said, patting my hand with a warm smile. "Once you're pregnant, you'll have your pick of anything in the treasury."

That evening, I sat at my dressing table, trying on each of my new gold hairpins, comparing them to see which one suited me best.

In the mirror, I couldn't hide my smile—so bright that even the candlelight seemed to glow with extra warmth.

"You were supposed to end up in the palace. Why didn't you?" Scott's voice suddenly came from the bed.

He was awake, but his legs still wouldn't work, so he had to stay in bed all day.

Right now, he was half propped up against the headboard, his blond hair spilling over his shoulders, which only made his face look even more ghostly.

I twirled the gold hairpin in my fingers and smiled. "What's so special about the palace? All those beauties fighting over one King. Marrying you suits me just fine; being the official wife of a rich lady's only son comes with plenty of status and privilege."

Scott scoffed, "As if you'd ever lose out. You're gorgeous and fierce; there's nothing you set your sights on that you can't get."

I walked over and sat down beside him, my fingertips brushing over his chest. "So, Scott, do you think I could ever win your heart?"

"In your dreams," he snapped, turning his face away, though his Adam's apple bobbed nervously. "There's already someone in my heart."

I almost burst out laughing.

Someone in his heart? Please. If Trina let me through the door, that means whoever he's pining for isn't even worth mentioning.

With a flick of my finger, his robe fell open.

Scott suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Willette, don't get carried away!"

"A night like this is priceless, Scott," I teased, slipping free from his grasp as my wedding dress slid off my shoulders.

"Shameless!" Scott spat out, but as the Alluring Scent I lit began to swirl through the air, his defiance faded into a hazy daze.

Beneath the warm canopy, his protests dissolved into breathless, tangled sighs.

After the passion faded, I rested on his sweat-damp chest, my fingertips gently tracing the delicate curve of his collarbone.

Scott lay there with his eyes closed, feigning sleep, then suddenly spoke in a low voice, "No wonder the King favored you for so many years. You really do have all kinds of tricks up your sleeve."

Unbothered, I let my hand rest on my belly.

Let him call me whatever he wants. As long as I end up pregnant, what do I care about his opinion?

*****

Two months later, Scott's leg was nearly as good as new. And as for me, the physician confirmed I was expecting.

The very first night he could finally get out of bed, he slipped out in the dead of night and didn't come back until the sky was just starting to lighten.

I leaned against the headboard, the thick smell of perfume and blood clinging to him. While he sat by the window, his eyes red and puffy, frozen in place until the sun finally came up.

*****

The next day, the whole city was buzzing—the top courtesan at the Velvet Veil had died.

My heart skipped a beat.

Back in my previous life, Scott had spent a fortune on that courtesan and even went against Trina's wishes to take her as his favored concubine.

Now that he'd been given another shot, the very first thing he did was kill her with his own hands?

*****

Three days later, Scott was out all night again. Early the next morning, word spread that Alban Shepherd, General Malcolm Shepherd's only son, was found dead at home.

I nearly dropped my wine cup.

Wasn't Alban Scott's best friend?

But in my previous life, when Scott was gravely ill, he was always entangled with Celia.

'So now that Scott's been back, is he cleaning house and taking revenge on everyone one by one?' I wondered. 'If that's really true, does that mean he's actually not going to die this time?'

I gently rubbed my still-flat belly, unable to stop myself from sighing for reasons I couldn't even name.

So if he's not going to die, am I really doomed to spend every single day staring at that frosty mug?

"Still awake?" he asked.