Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 106 - Hundred And Six

Ashlyn held her gaze as she continued. "You know His Grace is the acting commander of the Thompson’s Army," she explained, her voice smooth and logical. "The Thompson Army makes up 80% of the Royal Family’s military power. They are the shield and the sword of this kingdom."

She walked around him, circling him like a predator, her voice whispering in his ear.

"The title of Grand Duke is not only about bloodline, Carlos. It is about utility. The King needs a strong commander. He who commands the army, gets the title. It has always been this way."

She stopped in front of him again.

"Derek is distracted. He is in between two women. His wife and mistress. He is weak." She lied, feeding his ego. "But you... you have potential. You will have to prove to the King that you are worthy of the military position. Not Derek."

Carlos was listening now. The desperation in his eyes was being replaced by a flicker of greed. A different kind of greed.

"I know my husband is very brilliant," she lied, stroking his ego. "Such talent shouldn’t be wasted on card games and wine. You just have to pass the test."

"The test?" he asked.

"The annual military review is coming," she said. "If you can present a better strategy, if you can show the King that you understand the army better than your brother... the army and the title will be yours. Think of it, Carlos. You will acquire endless wealth. Endless honor. You won’t need an allowance. You will be the source of the money. Like how Derek is."

It was a seductive picture. Ashlyn watched his face. She could see the gears turning. She could see him imagining himself in the Grand Duke’s chair, with everyone bowing to him.

But then, the light in his eyes shifted. The nobility of the idea faded, replaced by the ugly, familiar itch of his addiction. The reality of "hard work" and "strategy" was too much for him. He wanted the easy way.

He looked down at the diamond necklace still clutched in her hand.

"You are right," he said, nodding slowly. "I need to take the title."

Ashlyn let out a breath of relief. "Yes. Exactly."

"But," Carlos said, his voice hardening again. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his grip painful. "This test... it will require preparation. It will require... grease."

"Grease?" Ashlyn asked, confused.

"I cannot just walk up to the King," Carlos said, his eyes fixed hungrily on the diamonds. "I need to meet with the generals. I need to buy them drinks. I need to give them gifts. I need to grease some palms and get connections."

He tugged on her arm, pulling her closer.

"Give me the necklace, Ashlyn. I need it to build my future. Our future."

Ashlyn stared at him in disbelief. He hadn’t listened to a word she said. He had just twisted her logic to fit his addiction. He didn’t want to study strategy. He wanted money to go party with the generals.

"Really?" she scoffed, her patience snapping. She yanked her arm back, trying to break his hold. "You think I am stupid? You want to use my money to ’grease palms’? Or do you just want to use my money to gamble and visit pleasure houses?"

"It is the same thing!" Carlos shouted, his face turning red. He didn’t let go. He pulled her harder, shaking her.

"Gambling dens and pleasure houses are where influential nobles gather!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the messy room. "That is where business is done! That is where alliances are made! You think power is discussed in libraries? It is discussed over wine and cards! I need to be there!"

"You are lying!" Ashlyn screamed back. "You just want to play! You are a weak man who cannot control himself!"

"Give it to me!"

He lunged. He grabbed the necklace with his other hand. They struggled. It was an ugly, desperate fight. Ashlyn clawed at his hands, her fingernails digging into his skin. Carlos shoved her, his weight overpowering hers.

"It is mine!" she shrieked.

"It belongs to the husband!" he roared.

He wrenched the necklace from her grip. The force of it broke the clasp with a sharp snap.

Ashlyn stumbled back, falling onto the pile of clothes on the floor. She looked up, panting, her hair in her face.

Carlos stood over her, victorious. He held the broken necklace in his hand, the diamonds glittering coldly. He was breathing heavy, his chest heaving. He looked at the jewels, and a look of immense relief washed over him. He had his fix. He had his money.

He looked down at his wife. He saw the disgust in her eyes. He saw the judgment. And it made him hate her. He hated her for making him fight for it. He hated her for seeing what he really was.

"A foolish woman like you won’t understand," he sneered, tucking the necklace into his pocket. "You think small. You think about saving pennies. I am thinking about the empire."

He turned away from her, storming across the room. He didn’t leave, though. He didn’t go straight to the gambling den. He was too tired, too worked up. He went to the bed, kicked a pile of dresses off the mattress, and sat down heavily.

He put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. He felt a headache coming on. He looked at Ashlyn, who was still sitting on the floor, staring at him with hatred.

He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to make her feel as small as he felt deep inside.

"You know," he said, his voice low and cruel. "I thought marrying you would bring me luck. I thought you were the smart one."

He lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his hand patting the pocket where the necklace was.

"But look at you," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "Look at this mess. Look at how you handle things."

He turned his head to look at her one last time, delivering the final blow.

"You are nothing like your sister."

The room fell into a dead silence.

Ashlyn sat on the floor, surrounded by the wreckage of her room. The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Nothing like your sister.