Chapter 4.1

It was the night of her stepfather’s funeral. Alexander sat in the study, half-listening to his grandfather’s drunken lamentations – at least until the old man’s ramblings took a darker turn.  

“This can’t be. We must retrieve Eric’s body at once. Fetch Logan. Have him perform an autopsy–”

Alexander schooled his expression.  

“Three physicians have already examined him, as you requested. All confirmed it was natural causes.”

“Natural causes? Eric was only forty-two!”

“……”

“Natural causes…” 

Sebastian buried his face in his hands. Alexander watched silently. The old man was drowning in liquor. If only he’d pass out already. But no – his slurred tirade resumed.  

“Listen, Alec. Four sons I had, and three are dead…”

Four sons? Alexander thought of the sole surviving “son.” To call that man a son… His gaze sharpened, but he hid it behind a sip of whiskey. The ice had melted oddly fast tonight. He drained the watered-down drink.  

“Two died before the midwife could leave the estate. The third – I buried him just as he began to speak…”

“……”

“And now my nephew is gone? This is a curse. That witch is to blame!”  

Sebastian slammed the bottle onto the table, his voice laced with venom. Alexander tensed – the old man looked ready to storm off and drag Yvonne from her room.  

“Grandfather. Yvonne has no power. She’s just…”

Just ignore her. He bit back the words. This drunken tyrant wouldn’t tolerate such phrasing. But the whiskey muddled his thoughts, so he pivoted.  

“…She wasn’t even born until after your sons passed.”

“Still–!”

Sebastian gnashed his teeth. Alexander glanced at the clock. Three in the morning. Exhaustion weighed on him. He pinched the bridge of his nose.  

He’d expected hardships as the new Count, but this – playing referee between a deranged patriarch and his haunted stepdaughter – wasn’t among them.  

Yvonne had never been his concern. He’d planned to treat her as part of the estate’s furniture, just as before.  

“She’s her reincarnation, I swear it…”

Patience fraying, Alexander dragged his hands down his face.  

“Sigh…”

Sebastian finally staggered to his feet, swaying.  

“Forgive me. The drink has… overtaken me. I must retire.” 

“Rest well, Grandfather.”  

Alone, Alexander turned to the documents left behind. *A plot to overthrow the Knüpfe dynasty.* His signature, coerced, had bound him to Sebastian’s legacy.  

‘Now my children will leave this world as corpses too…’ 

A curse? The old man was mad. He reached for his glass – then froze. A pale figure stood in the doorway.  

“……”

White hair. Red eyes. A gaze both unsettling and magnetic. No wonder Sebastian recoiled.  

When their eyes met, Yvonne smiled – a first. Holding his stare, she untied her nightgown. The fabric pooled at her feet, revealing skin whiter than the shroud that had covered her stepfather’s corpse.  

“Brother…”

N*ked, she knelt and began crawling toward him. The motion was so eerily fl*id, it took Alexander a moment to feel the wrongness of it.  

He watched, coldly assessing. Had grief driven her mad? Or had Sebastian struck her head during one of his rages? Either way, this wasn’t sanity.  

To him, she remained beneath consideration.  

Yet as she neared, her fingers brushed his shoe. A whisper escaped her:  

“The curse… it’s real. But not mine.”

Her breath fogged the polished leather. “It’s yours now.”  

Alexander’s glass shattered on the floor.

“…Von….”

A muttering voice reached her ears. Yvonne jolted awake.

“…?”

Wait…was this really waking up? Evonne found herself kneeling on the floor. The cold stone beneath her bare skin made her realize she was completely n*ked.

“Yvonne.”

“…!”

A man stood right in front of her. Polished black shoes entered her vision. Startled, Evonne instinctively curled in on herself.

“Yvonne.”

This was the third time her name had been called. Suddenly, it felt ominously foreboding. She hurriedly lifted her head.

“B-Brother…?”

In stark contrast to her disheveled state, the man before her was impeccably handsome – jet-black hair, pitch-dark eyes, flawlessly dressed in a suit. Alexander lounged in a chair, chin resting on his hand, watching her with an air of detached amusement. The surreal sight left her staring blankly.

“So, what brings you here in such a state?”

“Ah…”

Yvonne frantically scanned her surroundings. Though unfamiliar, she recognized this place – Count Schmidt’s study. Somewhere she should never dare enter, especially not like this. Her hair stood on end. What in the world…? Just moments ago, she had been peacefully asleep in bed!

The man’s icy gaze felt like it could freeze her solid. Her hands trembled violently as she desperately tried to cover herself.

“Yvonne Schmidt.”

Her lips parted involuntarily. It didn’t feel like her own will – words spilled out unbidden, even as her mind screamed in protest.

“P-Please…make me your dog, Brother…!”

No – that’s not what I meant to say! Yvonne wanted to scream, but no sound escaped. Alexander’s composed face twisted in disgust. She couldn’t breathe. Was this a continuation of that dream? Am I still dreaming? Oh God…please, this has to be a nightmare.

Alexander reached out, grabbing the collar around her neck and yanking her forward.

“Ghk–!”

Her petite frame was easily dragged toward him. To keep from falling, Yvonne clutched at his thigh. Her heart pounded wildly. This was the first time she’d been this close to a man – the first time anyone had seen her n*ked.

…Unless she counted the dreams.

“A dog collar suits you far better than jewels ever could.”

His scornful voice slithered into her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still feel his sharp gaze raking over her exposed body. Only then did Yvonne realize with horrifying clarity – this was no dream.

“Go to the desk.”

He shoved her away as if discarding something filthy. Yvonne landed hard on the cold floor, barely managing to open her eyes.

A loose leather strap hung around her neck. She wanted to examine it, but her limbs moved on their own, crawling toward the desk. Once there, she turned to look at Alexander. Help me, Brother…

“Bend over it.”

Her hands shook as they pressed against the mahogany surface. The cold wood against her bare skin sent a shiver through her. She felt her br*asts flatten against the desk.

“Spread your legs.”

No…! Please, no–!

Her nerves screamed in protest, but her body obeyed against her will. A small creak sounded as her legs parted obscenely wide, leaving her completely exposed.

With one cheek pressed to the desk, Evonne turned her head to look at Alexander. He remained lounged in his chair, chin propped on his hand, watching her with detached indifference. In stark contrast to her trembling, shame-filled state, he looked utterly at ease – no, almost bored.

His gaze drifted from her eyes, trailing down her spine to her b*ttocks, then lower. When his eyes settled between her legs, a gush of slick warmth spilled out. The sensation of ar*usal dripping down her thighs made her whimper. Then, fingers brushed against her folds, and her body shuddered violently.

Stop! Don’t–!

“Ah…ahh, Master…!”

Fingers combed through her curls before gripping her hips. They slid effortlessly along her slick folds, pressing insistently at her entrance. No–! Tears welled in her eyes. Her lips parted again.

“Haaah…yes…deeper…more…!”

No! That’s not what I wanted to say! Yvonne bit her lip hard, desperately turning to look at him. Her heart plummeted. Alexander hadn’t moved – he was still just watching, seated calmly in his chair. Her face paled. Then, a second finger joined the first.

“More…need it…Master, uhn…f*ck me…!”

Only then did Yvonne realize – she was the one fingering herself. Alexander was merely observing this lewd, grotesque display. But now, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

Her breathing grew ragged. Her thumb circled her cl*t with practiced ease, the swollen bud protruding obscenely – visible even to him.

“Y-Yes! Haaah, ahh–!”

Even in this horrifying situation, cl*max crashed over her without mercy. Her inner walls clenched around her fingers. The vulgar sounds of her own voice echoed in her ears.

Tears splattered onto the desk. Her body went limp. Just as she began sliding off, a large hand hauled her back onto the desk. Then, his shadow loomed over her.

“Ghk…!”

She turned her head weakly. Through blurred vision, she saw Alexander’s composed face – a stark contrast to her ruined state. He looked almost ascetic. His cold eyes bore into her as he undid his cufflinks.

Rolling up his sleeves revealed thick, powerful forearms. His hands alone exuded dominance. One planted firmly on the desk beside her. Yvonne swallowed hard, watching.

The metallic clink of his belt unfastening, then his trousers. He didn’t rush – nor did he hesitate.

“…!”

Something blunt pressed against her entrance. Only then did Evonne realize she was still holding his gaze. A massive c*ck pushed inside. Her back arched involuntarily, head tipping forward.

“Ah…ugh…!”

His size matched his stature – merely taking him in was a struggle. Rational concerns about incest evaporated under the overwhelming stretch.

His length filled her to the brim. Whimpers spilled from her lips. Her body stiffened.

I’m scared…so scared I might pass out. Her limbs flailed instinctively, trying to escape, but before she could even extend her arms, his hand pressed firmly into the small of her back. She nearly screamed.

The result was much the same. Once Alexander confirmed she’d taken him fully, he moved without hesitation.

“Ghk, haah! Ah, ahh, B-Brother…ahh, ahh–!”

Each thrust stretched her to the limit. Terrified she might tear, she whimpered as his monstrous size pistoned in and out, ruthlessly scraping her walls.

The overwhelming pressure and relentless stimulation wrenched broken moans from her throat. Even the way her br*asts were crushed and n*pples twisted registered as pl*asure.

His movements were sharp, precise. Every snap of his hips felt like it might shatter her. The study filled with the lewd sounds of flesh slapping flesh and her shameless cries.

“Ahh! Yes…! Master, y-your c*ck feels so good! Ah, haaaaah–!”

Her overheated body reached cl*max faster than ever before.

White and black spots danced in her vision. Her ears rang. Where their bodies joined, she trembled uncontrollably. Yet Alexander showed no mercy, even as she writhed in ecstasy.

He shoved her back when she tried to slump off the desk, hauling her up when her limp body threatened to slide away. Annoyed, he gripped her hips with both hands, then pulled out completely before slamming back in.

“Hyahk! Ahh–!”

Her cl*max didn’t end. Even now, her mouth spewed vulgarities – words so filthy she could barely stand to hear them.

“B-Brother, c*m inside…! F-Fill my p*ssy, ah…with your c*m…!”

Alexander stilled. But Yvonne’s body kept trembling, her c*nt fluttering around him. She squeezed her eyes shut.

He always looked at her with disdain. What expression was he making now? Exhaustion crashed over her. If only she could faint…

Then, a hand gripped her shoulder. Alexander flipped her onto her back effortlessly.

“Ghk…!”

The motion made his c*ck drag along her oversensitive walls. She whimpered, clenching around him involuntarily.

Alexander looked down at the woman beneath him. Her pale body, ghostly when she first entered, was now flushed pink.

She was a mess – disheveled white hair half-covering her face. He brushed it aside, wanting to see his sister’s ruined expression.

Tear tracks still glistened. Her eyes remained tightly shut. Alexander felt his breath hitch slightly.

“Open your eyes.”

Her eyelids were forcibly pried open. In her blurred vision, she saw his composed face – the brother she’d always been too afraid to approach. Now, he was buried inside her.

Unlike her disheveled state, he remained immaculate. Aside from the faint scent of alcohol and slightly quickened breath, he was unchanged.

Alexander grabbed the loose collar around her neck. Pressure made her whimper. He toyed with it briefly before losing interest.

“Gah–!”

Then, those same indifferent hands groped her br*asts mercilessly. Tears welled, but her body arched into the touch, betraying her with another moan.

“Hah…”

The c*ck inside her twitched. The moment she felt it, her hips began moving of their own accord. So did her mouth.

“Master’s c*m…ahh, I want your c*m… Fill me, hh…! Please…!”

Alexander’s lips twisted into a smirk – a clear sneer. Yet her hips kept rocking shamelessly. Mercifully, as his lips parted, hers sealed shut as if spellbound.

“Not yet.”

One hand easily pinned both her wrists. The other gripped her hip. Then, he slammed into her – harder than before. Her mouth fell open. The previous thrusts paled in comparison. She couldn’t even scream.