Chapter 8.2

His heart pounded violently. ‘Marrying her–officially?’ He’d never imagined such a thing could happen.  

Kyle forced a composed reply and left Nina’s chambers. A right turn at the corner would lead to Yvonne’s room. He had to resist the urge to sprint there. He’d already hurt her badly enough days ago. If she learned she was to marry him, her devastation would be palpable. His face twisted.  

‘But if I apologize properly and treat her well from now on–’ No. As if that would fix anything. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He didn’t even know where to begin untangling this mess. Worse, he had no idea how to treat a woman right in the first place.  

A dull ache throbbed in his temples. Sleep was unlikely, but he could at least try to rest and face tomorrow–  

Just then, Yvonne’s door creaked open. Kyle instinctively ducked behind the corner. ‘Why am I hiding?’ Straightening his expression, he stepped forward–only to freeze at the sound of a cheerful whistle. Peering around the edge, he caught the retreating back of a tall man with black hair.  

Kyle gritted his teeth. The urge to charge out and beat Logan senseless was nearly overwhelming. By the time he wrestled down his rage, the man had vanished. And somehow, his hand was already gripping Yvonne’s doorknob.  

‘You shouldn’t go in now.’ Was he really this desperate to see firsthand how broken she’d become? Pathetic–too cowardly to confront Logan, yet concocting flimsy excuses just to glimpse her one more time.  

With a self-mocking laugh, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

“Logan… Logan…!”

No matter how much she called, there was no answer. How cruel… Yvonne buried her face in the pillow.

Something must have displeased him–the moment he spilled his seed into her mouth, Logan left without a word. Unaware that her dazed, unsatisfied expression was the very pl*asure he had sought tonight, she began blaming herself.

Had she said something to upset him? Failed to swallow all of it? Sniffling, she suddenly sensed movement at the door. Her head jerked up.

“…Logan?”

It wasn’t him. The man standing there was tall, handsome, with golden hair and blue eyes. Familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Her sluggish mind struggled to recall.

“My lady…?”

He approached, then froze at the sight of her nakedness before steeling himself and stepping closer. Gently, he wiped her tears away. Kind, she thought, clutching his hand. His large fingers twitched.

“That bastard Logan… What did he do this time?”

The question made her eyes well up again. She shook her head with a tearful sigh.

“Nothing…”

She studied his face. Sharp features, intimidating–yet somehow reassuring. If she begged, he might indulge her. And right now, she needed that.

“I’m hurting… Hold me…?”

The moment the words left her lips, he pulled her into his arms. Wrapped in his hard, warm body, her unease melted away. When she slid her hands around his back, he tightened his embrace. The pressure was almost crushing, but she wasn’t afraid.

“Put it in me… Please?”

“What?”

The moment the words left Yvonne’s mouth, Kyle stiffened and pulled back. For a second, he wondered if this was some absurd dream. Staring down at her, he couldn’t hide his shock–until her red lips parted slowly, temptingly.

“Put your c*ck inside me…?”

He was speechless. Logan’s notes had mentioned obedience conditioning and long-term behavioral reinforcement, but to use it like this–

“Please…”

Yet the sight of her tearful grip on his sleeve shattered his restraint.

Kyle turned her around, seating her against his chest. Her small body fit perfectly in his lap. Burying his face in her slender neck, he slid a hand between her thighs. Her folds were already soaked. A finger pressed inside effortlessly, and she whimpered, nuzzling into him.

“Faster… Nngh…”

“Ugh–”

Her hot breath against his neck sent shivers down his spine. He yanked his pants down, his erect*on springing free–already primed to take her.

Lifting her hips, he aligned himself and pushed in slowly. A moan spilled from her lips as her walls fluttered around him. Each thrust made her clench tighter. When he bottomed out, she gasped, overwhelmed. Kyle soothed her with a kiss to her ear.

“Like this?”

“Y-yes…! Good…”

Her sweet voice nearly undid him. Biting his lip, he snapped his hips up sharply. Her mouth fell open.

“Ah–! Logan…!”

The name froze his blood. Gripping her jaw, he forced her to face him. Her dazed scarlet eyes met his, and his chest ached.

When his hand closed roughly over her br*ast, she let out a thin cry. He twisted her cl*t mercilessly, ignoring her sobs as she pushed weakly at his arm. Leaning close, he growled–

“Kyle.”

“Huh…?”

“It’s Kyle.”

“Oh… Kyle…”

She nodded sluggishly, but the way she kept rolling her hips made it clear she still didn’t know him.

He laughed bitterly. What the hell am I doing? But when her hand rose to caress his cheek, he stopped caring. Her white hair swayed, clouding his vision. Her fingers traced his face tenderly–like a lover’s. With a groan, he slammed into her.

“Ngh–Ahh…!”

Buried to the hilt, he forced himself to stop. Gritting his teeth, he fought for control.

“Hah… Whatever pills Logan’s giving you–stop taking them.”

Pills? Yvonne turned her head, blinking up at him. His face twisted in anguish when their eyes met.

“Understand? Don’t accept anything from him–pills, tea, nothing.”

“Mhm… Nngh…”

Fine, just– She nodded eagerly, pulling him into a kiss. That night, Kyle gave her everything she begged for. Over. And over.

“I wish I were dead.”  

Yvonne spent the entire morning sobbing uncontrollably after discovering the traces left on her body from last night. Nora brought her easy-to-eat soups and stews, but Yvonne could barely stomach a cup of water. She even threw up the sedatives.  

It wasn’t until the sun slanted to one side that her tears finally stopped. She lay on the bed, staring blankly out the window. Memories she wanted to forget kept surfacing in her mind.  

‘Last night, Kyle held me tenderly all night long.’ Except for those few moments when he turned rough. Just the thought made her brow furrow instinctively, but thankfully, no fresh tears came.  

“Don’t take the medicine Logan gives you.”  

He had repeated it over and over. ‘Why would he say that? How did he even know Logan gives me sleeping draughts? Was it really him who whispered those words?’  

Logan often brought her tea with a peculiar fragrance. It was true that he had started brewing her sleeping draughts himself when her insomnia worsened, but…  

The strange dreams had begun around the same time she grew close to him. Yvonne clutched the sheets. ‘I must have known this all along. I just didn’t want to suspect it.’  

‘Logan was the only family who ever reached out to me first.’  

He wasn’t like Nora, a servant bound to the Schmidts, or Max, a knight sworn to loyalty. She had believed he was the only one who genuinely cared for her–without obligation or calculation.  

‘I never wanted to know any of this.’

* * *

“My lady, the mistress wishes to see you.”  

The moment dinner ended, a maid came for Yvonne. As the attendants fussed over her appearance, Yvonne clenched her hands together anxiously. ‘How much trouble am I in today?’  

Her unease wasn’t unfounded. Memories surfaced one after another–skipping meals despite not being ill, holing up in her room all day, making the merchants and tailors Nina summoned leave empty-handed, Louis ruining the parlor carpet out of boredom…  

“Come closer. Sit here.”  

Nina’s parlor was dim, illuminated only by two small candles. Even those were reduced to one the moment Yvonne took the seat across from her, as a servant promptly snuffed the other out.  

The lone remaining candle flickered precariously, casting just enough light to half-reveal Nina’s face. The servant who stepped back melted into the shadows like a specter. The eerie atmosphere made Yvonne shrink into herself, fidgeting with her skirts.  

“Now, look at the candle.”  

“Yes…?”  

‘The candle? Why–what is this?’ None of it made sense, but as usual, Yvonne asked nothing and obeyed.  

The flame drew closer. Even its tiny heat felt threatening. She swallowed hard, eyes tracking the candle as it swayed left to right, then right to left.  

A whisper brushed her ear–so faint she couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman, let alone decipher the words. A drowsy weight pulled at her, as if sinking slowly underwater. Just as she felt she couldn’t breathe, a sharp click snapped near her ear. Her eyes flew open.  

The candle was gone. Nina’s hand now hovered just beside her face–the sound had been her snapping fingers. The room was abruptly bright, multiple lamps lit.  

‘Did I… fall asleep? Impossible.’ Dazed, she glanced around–only to realize someone was gripping her shoulders. When she looked up, she met the gaze of Nina’s attendant.  

Ralph, the tall, dark-skinned foreign slave Nina had kept since childhood, was a familiar sight. But they’d never exchanged a word, let alone stood this close.  

While Yvonne’s face flushed with discomfort, Ralph simply stared down at her, expressionless. An odd pressure radiated from him. She couldn’t even look away, much less shake free.  

“Pathetic, relying on drugs.”  

“Wha–?”  

The moment Nina spoke, Ralph released her. The word drugs sent a jolt through Yvonne, erasing all memory of the strange hypnosis.  

Nina smiled–a gentleness Yvonne had never seen before.  

“What has Logan done to you?”  

“I–”  

‘How does she know? Did I say something while dazed?’ The blood drained from her already pale face. If Nina discovered the depraved acts between her and Logan–  

Nina watched the girl’s lips tremble. ‘Logan, that witless fool.’ Yvonne’s body, already weakened by drugs, was pushed to its limit. If he’d read Etwar Schmidt’s hypnosis records and tried experimenting–he chose the wrong subject. If he’d hypnotized her just to have his way–that was even stupider.  

A pitiful woman who couldn’t even hide properly in her own home. Yvonne had no self-esteem left to crush. Controlling her would’ve been effortless–just a little attention to earn trust, then magnifying small mistakes into terror…  

“I’m fine–”  

Yvonne’s pupils shook. Her fingers twisted anxiously, nails digging into her skin until it flushed red.  

Nina’s tongue darted out unconsciously. ‘If it were me, I’d have chosen a different kind of torment for her…’ She swallowed thickly.  

“Regardless, there’s something far more urgent now. Your treatment.”  

“My… what?”  

“First, we must purge the drugs from your system. And until then, I’ll keep watch so Logan can’t interfere.”  

‘By your side?’ The thought alone was suffocating. Yvonne imagined it merely meant constant supervision from dawn till dusk. Then Nina dropped her next words like a thunderclap:  

“You’ll stay in my chambers starting tonight. Ralph, prepare the bedroom.”  

Yvonne stared dumbly as Ralph left to obey. Only when the door shut did her eyes widen. She gaped soundlessly until Nina smiled.  

“The bed is spacious enough.”  

“…”

“Sharing a bed with someone else–let alone a stepmother I’ve barely spoken to…”

The idea of family sharing a bed belonged in fairy tales. A wave of nausea tightened her throat. At least I haven’t eaten all day.

The sound of breathing beside her felt unnaturally loud, making sleep impossible. Is she asleep? Do I sound like that too? Maybe she regrets inviting me. Yvonne hunched her stiff shoulders, every joint in her body creaking with tension. Yet she couldn’t pinpoint what exactly felt wrong. I’ll be awake till dawn. How will I face her in the morning?

But her worries proved meaningless–sleep dragged her under without warning.

Yes… I must have fallen asleep after all.

A suffocating weight pressed down. Yvonne’s eyes flew open.

“Hhk–!”

A man straddled her. The familiar intrusion between her legs made her whimper and twist. A soothing hand stroked her waist, cold as a reptile’s touch. When she tried to shift back, his c*ck twitched inside her, thick and unmistakable. A moan escaped her; he laughed low in response.

Blinking to clear her vision, Yvonne strained to identify the figure above her. Faint light seeped through the canopy, just enough to outline his face–tall but lean.

“Logan…?”

Instead of answering, he pulled back until only the crown remained, dragging along her walls. Her body trembled. Hands gripped her hips, spreading her wider before he sheathed himself to the hilt in one thrust.

“Ngh–! Ah… Ahh…!”

He set a deliberate pace, neither fast nor slow. Yet each stroke scrambled her senses, drawing ragged whimpers.

Wakefulness sharpened every sensation: the slick slap of skin, the bed’s creaks, his satisfied sighs mingling with a cloying, perfumed sweetness–nothing like human warmth.

His c*ck stretched her ruthlessly. When it brushed that spot, pl*asure crackled up her spine. Fl*id gushed with every deep drive.

Then the light swayed, illuminating his profile.

Familiar.

A broken sound left her lips. “Brother…?”

Silence.

Alexander rarely answered her, but this void of response terrified her. She clutched the sheets, hiccuping.

“Brother… A-Alexander, right…?”

The man burst into laughter, still buried inside her. A foreboding chill crept up her throat. Now that I think of it, he’s too slight for Alexander. Why had she assumed it was him? Yet the resemblance–

His radiant smile came into focus. This expression… Not Alexander.

“Who knew my stepdaughter was taking turns with my sons?”

Yvonne’s eyes widened.

* * *

“If this one dies too… this time too…”  

The agonized moans of his wife seeped through the door crack. Sebastian clutched his head, pacing before the entrance, his own groans slipping out.  

It should have been a joyous moment–the birth of a child–yet the mansion was steeped in gloom. And for good reason. Just days prior, they had buried Till, Sebastian’s third son.  

Till had only just begun to babble. Unlike his firstborn, who hadn’t survived a single day, or his second son, Sebastian had truly believed this one would grow up healthy. The shock was all the more crushing. Worse yet, Till’s cause of death was the same as his brothers: suffocation.  

But what terrified him more was that, once again, they couldn’t even identify a suspect, let alone find the culprit.  

“A curse… This has to be a curse… This one will die too, I know it…”  

A dark thought crossed his mind–’It would be better if it died right after birth.’ What had once been mere paranoia, a personality quirk, now gnawed at him relentlessly. Sebastian was on the verge of madness.  

“Father.”  

A calm voice snapped him back to his senses. Sebastian turned his head. Bettita stood holding Hildegard’s hand, both girls gazing up at him.  

“If you’re this uneasy, wait in the study. We’ll tell you when the b*by is born.”  

Sebastian looked at his daughters, now twelve and eight. Of his five children, only these two remained.  

All the dead had been boys. None had lived long enough to walk. Yet his daughters had grown up healthy, now even speaking with a maturity beyond their years. ‘Was this truly a coincidence?’ A chilling hypothesis flashed through his mind like lightning.  

Gritting his teeth, Sebastian seized the doorknob. He couldn’t bear to see another child carried out as a corpse. When he flung the door open, every eye in the room turned to him.  

“Sebastian?”  

Disheveled hair, crumpled clothes, wild eyes, and bloodless lips–Julia forgot her labor pains for a moment at the sight of her husband bursting into the delivery room.  

“Everyone out. Except Matthias.”  

“What–? Ugh…!”  

“I’ll deliver the child myself.”  

No one dared stop Sebastian, half-mad as he seemed. Julia exhaled wearily, sinking into the bed, while the midwives and maids hastily retreated.  

With only the physician Matthias by his side, Sebastian delivered the child. Thankfully, both mother and b*by were healthy. The infant’s robust cries eased some of the tension in Sebastian’s face. Julia, cradling the newborn, managed a weary smile.  

“If it’s a boy, we agreed to name him Armin, didn’t we?”  

“No.”  

“What?”  

Julia and Matthias’s gazes shifted from the newborn to Sebastian. The man’s sunken eyes gleamed with something eerie.  

“Nina. The child’s name will be Nina.”  

‘If a boy, Armin. If a girl, Nina.’ Sebastian and Julia had decided on the names long before the birth. But now, even though a son had been born, none of that mattered. The moment Sebastian opened that door, the child’s name–and gender–had already been decided.  

Nina Schmidt. The birth of Sebastian’s fourth son–and third da