Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes-Chapter 119: Nothing funny

Chapter 117

Duke Sebastian

My face stings from the slap, but I remain still and face my father. The force behind his hand was enough to tilt my head slightly to the side, but I don’t let it show. There’s no use flinching—he feeds off that.

"How dare you embarrass me this way?!" he yells, voice echoing against the marble walls of the office.

I don’t respond. It’s best to let him yell when he gets like this. The more you speak, the worse it gets.

"What did you do? To piss off the king?" His voice drops an octave, quieter but more dangerous. He slams his hand on the table, hard enough to make the ink pot rattle and bleed across the paper.

"You think just because I stepped down from my position, you can act as you like?"

He paces, boots sharp against the floor. "What have I always told you?"

I stay silent, jaw tight.

"Answer me!"

I finally look at him. "To not bring shame to the Doraemont name."

He hums lowly, a sound more disappointed than angry. "Yes. And do you think you have upheld that one rule?"

I say nothing. There’s nothing I could say that would make him stop.

"Do you know what happened when I went to the palace today?" His tone changes,lower, calmer, which somehow makes it worse.

"The king did not invite me for tea or golf, no. I was, at my age, asked to recite the pledge of allegiance to the king."

The words hit me harder than the slap.

He takes a slow breath, and his next words drip with humiliation. "Like a child. For the first time in my life, I was scolded in public. Do you understand how degrading that was?"

I can hear his pride breaking, the sound just beneath his voice.

He exhales, finally turning to face me. "Sebastian," he says, using my name like it’s a burden, "I do not care what you do. I trusted you and stepped down from my position. You think I don’t know about the little tug of war you and those other fools are having over that omega? You think the entire capital doesn’t know?"

He comes closer, the scent of his cologne—wood, tobacco, and age,clinging to the air. He’s still a tall, broad man, his presence commanding. For a moment, I almost feel small again.

"For centuries, across all cultures, the stronger man gets the omega, the woman, whatever," he says, waving his hand dismissively.

"It has always been that way. But this time, it’s not worth it. Back down. Five percent of the kingdom’s population are omegas—find another one."

His hand lands on my shoulder, heavy and final. "You are not irreplaceable. Do not do such foolish things again. There won’t be a second chance."

He turns away, already done with me, walking back to his desk with the slow dignity of someone convinced they’ve won.

"Leave," he says without looking at me.

It’s my office now, since I took over the family’s title and duties, but I leave anyway.

The moment the door shuts behind me, I touch my face where he struck me.The sting lingers, but it’s the words that burn deeper.

I clench my jaw. Back down.

He doesn’t understand. Ciel isn’t just any omega. He isn’t some passing infatuation or trophy. He’s the only thing that’s ever made me feel alive.

Prince or not, I won’t give him up.

***

Nolan

Some of these stains are decades old. I scrub and scrub, my knees aching against the cold tiles, the yellow gloves squeaking against porcelain.

The smell of detergent burns my nose, but I keep going. I’ve been at this for nearly two hours, determined to make the bathtub look new again — or at least clean enough that it feels like control.

Life has fallen into a pattern. Wake up. Work out. Clean. Apply for jobs. Wait for Jack’s calls. Play with Lanny. Repeat. Every single day.

It’s the kind of monotony that seeps into your bones until you stop realizing you’re tired. I try to tell myself it’s fine , this is temporary. We’re safe here. That should be enough.

Despite recently getting my certification, I can only apply for entry-level jobs. None of the entry-level jobs have remote options, and I can’t risk leaving Ciel and Lanny alone.

Not with how shaken Ciel still is, how he flinches at shadows sometimes.

I finally sit back on my heels and stare at my handiwork. The old stains are gone or as close as they’ll ever get. My arms ache, but there’s a strange satisfaction in it.

I peel off the gloves and toss them into the corner, flexing my sore fingers. Turning on the tap, I let the water run hot. Steam rises slowly, clouding the small space, and I watch the surface shimmer as the tub begins to fill.

Jack would complain about this bathroom. He’d probably make a joke about how it’s barely big enough for his ego, then grin that stupid grin that makes Ciel roll his eyes.

I chuckle quietly to myself, but the sound dies quickly. The laughter feels hollow without him here.

I sit on the edge of the tub, watching the steam curl up to the ceiling, and stretch my back until it pops. Living with Jack in the beach house really spoiled me. There was space there — air, light, the sound of waves through open windows. Here, it’s just four walls and the hum of the refrigerator.

Still, I’m grateful. At least Lanny laughs. At least Ciel’s cooking smells like home.

I turn off the tap once the tub fills, slip a hand into the water, and sigh as the heat bites my skin. Perfect. Small victories.

***

Jack

The only real highlight of my day is talking to my family. Everything else feels like white noise — endless lessons, etiquette drills, posture corrections, and whatever "royal media conditioning" means.

Apparently, I can’t show my face in public until I master the proper smile, the right way to walk, the way to sit, speak, exist. It’s exhausting. This is why you’re supposed to be born into this lifestyle, cramping what I should have learnt over a lifetime into a couple of weeks isn’t going so well.

I stretch across the large canopy bed, the phone on speaker beside me. Lanny’s soft breathing fills the room, a small lull in the background noise.

"He’s asleep," Ciel whispers.

"You’ve done it again — he’s getting used to falling asleep to your voice, Jack. Now how’s he supposed to sleep without you?"

He sounds like he’s scolding me, but I can hear the smile in his tone.

"I don’t mind," I say softly, turning onto my side. "It’s the best part of my day."

There’s a rustle, a muffled sound on the other end , the familiar rhythm of home life. I picture Ciel moving around the apartment, probably in one of my shirts again, his hair messy and his expression soft.

"Where’s the doggy?" I ask, meaning Nolan. "Haven’t heard his voice tonight."

Ciel laughs quietly. "He’s in the bath."

That gets my attention. "He’s what?"

"In the bath," Ciel repeats, amused. "He’s been in there forever, probably asleep."

"I’ve been on this call for forty minutes," I point out.

"Yep."

I hear movement ,footsteps, a door squeaking open, then the sound of sloshing water. Ciel’s voice lowers.

"Hey, Nollie. Jack’s on the phone."

A sleepy grumble follows. "Hello."

My body reacts before my brain catches up, instantly getting turned from zero to hundred in a moment.

Is this who I am now?

"Did you fall asleep in the bath?" I ask, half exasperated, half something else entirely. "You know how dangerous that is?"

"I didn’t mean to," he mumbles. "Just wanted to close my eyes for a sec." There’s another soft splash of water.

I drag a hand over my face. I’m doomed. This is definitely who I am now.

Glancing around the room, the ridiculous opulence suddenly feeling suffocating. Everything is too polished, too perfect, too royal. The chandelier overhead gleams like it’s judging me. The silk sheets, the carved furniture, all of it feels wrong for what’s running through my mind.

So I grab the phone and head to the bathroom.

The marble tiles echo under my bare feet as I shut the door behind me. Even the bathroom looks like it belongs in a museum—polished gold fixtures, spotless mirrors, and a tub big enough to drown in. It’s too fancy, too but hey it’s atleast smaller than my room.

"Jack?" Nolan’s voice comes through, soft and suspicious. "Where are you?"

I smile to myself. "In the bathroom," I say lightly. "Thought we could have a proper conversation. You know, bathroom to bathroom. Want me to get in the tub too?"

There’s no one to see me, so I unzip my pants. I feel a little guilty but It’s been a while, and I’m frustrated, restless, and far too aware of every quiet breath he takes.

He’s laughing right now, but there’s nothing funny about my situation.

"Are you serious right now?" he says, voice half amused, half accusing.

"Now, now, doggy," I murmur, forcing my tone light, teasing. "Remember not to use bad words. Wouldn’t want you to slip in front of Lanny."