Wicked Husband-Chapter 83 - 82

Cesare brushed the sweat from his hair and roughly removed his soaked uniform. After putting on his pants, he wrapped his arms around Eileen, holding her close.

As the heat from his body cooled, the fatigue that had been masked by pleasure surged forward. Overwhelmed by the sudden exhaustion, Eileen fell asleep without even realizing it. As her consciousness began to fade, a whisper, almost like an auditory hallucination, brushed past her ears. A beautiful, soothing voice murmured softly.

"Good night, Eileen."

The heavy rain pounded against the window. The sound of water seeping through the thick curtains roused Eileen from her sleep.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she was startled and quickly turned her head to the side. A man lay deeply asleep next to her, completely unaware of the world around him. Seeing him in such a deep slumber cleared the fog from her mind.

They were in a second-floor bedroom of a brick house. From the fact that she felt comfortable, it seemed he had bathed her and carried her to the bedroom while she was unconscious.

The thought of those who would later clean the disheveled sofa made her flush. Eileen glanced around, thinking she should at least remove the sofa’s fabric.

The bed was originally intended for Eileen alone, so it was too small for both her and Cesare to lie in comfortably. They had to press tightly together to fit. Only then did Eileen realize she was resting her head on Cesare’s arm.

His arm was wrapped around her waist, and she could feel the solid weight of his well-built muscles. Eileen gazed silently at Cesare, the sound of his quiet, steady breathing blending with the rain outside.

Suddenly, she remembered something Sonio had said during her training for the duties of a duchess: "His Grace has hardly been sleeping recently."

The old butler’s voice had been filled with concern, but he had quickly changed the subject, likely not wanting to burden Eileen with worries she couldn’t address.

Looking back, Eileen realized she had rarely seen Cesare sleep so deeply. Despite sharing the same bed every night since their marriage, Cesare always woke with barely a trace of sleep in his eyes. This was the first time she had heard his breathing so clearly, indicating a deep and restful slumber.

As she continued to watch him, her thoughts drifted naturally to their night together. There was one scene that stood out among the hazy memories of those wild moments.

As she continued to watch him, her thoughts naturally drifted to their night together. One scene stood out vividly amid the haze of their wild moments.

"Do you only say such things at times like this?"

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had smiled, so boyish and unguarded. What had she said to make him respond like that? The details were blurred, and even his smiling face remained elusive in her memory.

"I should have paid more attention instead of spacing out."

She yearned to write about his smile in her journal, her hands itching to record the moment. Since moving to the ducal residence, she hadn’t had the chance to keep up with her diary.

For over ten years, she had meticulously documented their relationship. Sometimes she questioned whether it was an odd habit, but Cesare had read her diary regardless.

"If he didn’t like it, he would have told me."

Lost in these thoughts while studying his face, Eileen was startled when Cesare suddenly opened his eyes. She was about to greet him when her breath caught in her throat.

The rain’s steady patter filled the room, and Cesare’s blood-red eyes locked onto hers.

Without a word, he regarded her with an expressionless gaze that felt unsettlingly foreign. Eileen froze, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar intensity, but then Cesare’s lips curved into a quiet smile.

"Eileen..."

His voice, slightly husky from just waking, carried an oddly seductive tone reminiscent of the low murmur he used during their intimate moments.

Cesare slowly pushed himself up. Eileen, assuming he might be looking for water, attempted to rise as well.

But with a swift movement, Cesare climbed on top of her. Eileen, who had been about to rise, lay back down in shock. She looked up at him with wide eyes and suddenly realized the source of the odd feeling she’d been sensing all along.

Cesare’s gaze was unsettling. Although their eyes were locked, it didn’t seem like he was truly seeing her. His eyes were hazy, as if he were lost in a dream.

"Cesare...?"

As she carefully called his name, Cesare slowly reached out his hand. Eileen watched him calmly, expecting him to stroke her hair or caress her cheek as he usually did. She waited for his familiar touch.

Instead, Cesare’s hand closed around her throat.*

"...!"

Cesare’s large hand clamped down on her neck, immediately cutting off her breath. Eileen struggled, trying to free herself from his grip, but it was futile against the strength of a man who had lived as a soldier for so long.

She gasped, her lips parting in a desperate attempt to draw in air, but his hold remained unyielding. As Cesare placed a soft, fleeting kiss on her face—light as a petal—he tightened his grip further. With his other hand, he gently brushed her hair aside.

’Why? Why is this happening?’

She couldn’t comprehend it. Just hours ago, they had been intimately entwined, sharing their love in the deepest way possible.

The fact that it was Cesare—of all people—choking her was beyond belief. The very hands that had always treated her with care and affection were now causing her harm. Eileen let out a choked, painful whimper.

"It’s okay, Eileen."

Cesare’s voice was tender, more gentle than ever as he tried to soothe her.

"Shh, be good. It won’t hurt much this time... It’ll be over soon."

His low voice brushed against her ear. He kissed her trembling lips, desperate for air, and whispered softly.

"I love you."

At those words, all strength drained from her body. The limbs that had been fighting to push him away fell limply to her sides.

She knew there was no sincerity in those words. They were merely sweet lies meant to make her docile and easier to kill.

But she didn’t care. Eileen was no longer afraid.

’Cesare said he loves me.’

Hearing those words, perhaps it was only natural that she would have to pay for them with her life.

’There must be a reason I have to die.’

If Cesare was killing her, there must be a reason she couldn’t fathom. It didn’t matter to Eileen.

From the start, her life had belonged to Cesare. It was his possession, and it was his right to take it away.

Having ceased all resistance, Eileen looked up at Cesare with fading vision. She found a strange comfort in knowing that the last thing she would see was his smiling face.

Eileen awaited death quietly, her consciousness growing dimmer.

Suddenly, she thought of Marlena, who had once come to her, asking to be taught how to die beautifully, longing to become the most beautiful corpse in the capital.

At the time, Eileen hadn’t understood her, but now she knew exactly how she felt. For the sake of whoever would see her final moments, she wanted to die without appearing unsightly.

She mustered all her remaining strength to lift the corners of her mouth into a smile, striving to give him one last, serene expression.

"..."

The sweet, smiling expression on Cesare’s face abruptly hardened. He released his grip on her throat, and as air rushed into her lungs, Eileen gasped desperately for breath.

"Haa! Huff, huff...!"

As she instinctively opened her mouth wide and gulped down air, Cesare stood up from the bed. He walked over to a small table and picked up the letter opener used for opening envelopes. Without hesitation, he sliced his palm.

"Huh, C-Cesare...!"

The sharp smell of blood filled the small bedroom. Eileen, horrified by the sight of him harming himself, managed to force out a plea, though her voice was barely audible.

"Please, stop... Your hand..."

She spoke through the pain lodged in her throat, but Cesare, staring straight at her, slashed his palm again with the letter opener.

A second crimson line appeared on his hand, trembling slightly. Eileen let out a strangled scream, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. Cesare kept cutting his palm, over and over again.

Blood streamed down his skin, dripping onto the floor and forming a growing puddle. Eileen forced herself to her feet. Though she wobbled as if she might collapse, she resolutely walked over and wrapped her arms around him.

His self-destructive actions finally ceased. Holding him tightly, Eileen began to cry. She sobbed so hard that she forgot the pain in her raw throat, finally finding her voice.

"Please... Please, stop... If you must, then hurt me instead... Please..."

Shaking uncontrollably, she reached out toward Cesare. His red eyes, which had been fixed on her all along, slowly shifted. Cesare gazed at the small, pale hand she offered him, his breath growing unsteady.

"...Eileen."

His voice was wavering.

"You are..."

Cesare’s eyes wavered as he asked softly,

"You’re my Eileen, right?"

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