Wicked Husband-Chapter 87 - 86

Eileen was silent, absorbing the weight of his words. Cesare’s tone softened as he added, "But yesterday, for a moment, I couldn’t distinguish between dream and reality..."

His voice trailed off, and he offered a faint, hollow smile. Though his expression remained calm, his eyes appeared as dry and fragmented as shattered glass.

Seeing the pain in his eyes, Eileen felt a pang of heartache, as if she were holding shards of glass in her bare hands. Struggling to contain the anguish, she spoke softly.

"...It was just a dream. It wasn’t really me."

She wished that he would not be tormented by illusions of her. Clutching his hand tightly, Eileen whispered, "I’m here now, Cesare."

After finishing her words, Eileen bit the inside of her cheek, realizing she had spoken rashly by assuming Cesare’s intentions. Now she worried that she had been too presumptuous.

Unable to meet his gaze, she lowered her eyes and nervously assessed his reaction. Trying to gently release the hand she was holding, she was taken aback when Cesare tightened his grip once more.

His hold was firm and somewhat rough. Startled, Eileen flinched, prompting him to quickly loosen his grasp. Although his grip softened considerably, he did not let go.

For a while, they stood there, holding hands. Then, soft droplets of water began to touch Eileen’s cheek. The drizzle gradually intensified, and soon rain was filling the air. The sky, which had been cloudy all day, had now started to rain once again.

Fortunately, it wasn’t the torrential downpour of the previous day. The rain fell gently through the leaves, soaking Cesare and Eileen gradually.

Despite the rain, neither of them suggested going back into the mansion. They simply stood there beneath the orange tree.

After a while, Cesare let out a low sigh and released Eileen’s hand. He took out a handkerchief and handed it to her before removing his uniform jacket and draping it over her head.

Now sheltered by the large jacket, Eileen looked up at Cesare as he wiped the rain from his face with the back of his hand.

"Go inside."

Eileen shook her head. "I want to stay by your side, Cesare."

He gestured to the marks on his neck and asked, "Even after what happened?"

"Yes."

When Eileen showed no sign of backing down, Cesare stifled a bitter laugh.

"I’m just going to smoke."

He adjusted the jacket over her shoulders, letting her know she didn’t have to stay and endure the smell of smoke.

Clutching his jacket and handkerchief tightly, Eileen asked, "Even so, can I stay by your side?"

"..."

"I want to see you smoke."

From a young age, Eileen had enjoyed observing plants, meticulously examining and recording every detail. But in truth, there was something she found even more fascinating than plants.

It was Cesare.

Since the day she met him, Cesare had become the most intriguing subject in her world. Every time she saw him, Eileen would carefully document new observations about him in her journal.

She wanted to learn more about the facets of Cesare that remained unknown to her. Today, she was particularly interested in understanding the unfamiliarity she felt when she watched him smoke.

But beyond her curiosity, there was a more urgent feeling.

’I don’t want to leave Cesare alone.’

Both yesterday and today, Cesare seemed on edge, as if he were holding a blade to his own throat. The idea of protecting a man who appeared fearless seemed absurd, so Eileen kept her feelings to herself. But in that moment, she was resolute in staying by his side.

’He keeps saying strange things...’

Cesare wasn’t the type to be unsettled by something as trivial as a dream, which only deepened her concern. The fact that he had killed her in his dream didn’t matter much; after all, she had already resolved to give her life for him in reality. How many times she died in a dream was inconsequential.

Eileen wanted to share her thoughts with Cesare but was afraid he might scold her, so she remained silent, simply waiting for his response.

When she showed no intention of going inside and only gazed up at him, Cesare frowned. He drew her closer to shield her from the rain and then took out a fresh cigarette. As he lit it, he muttered,

"It was my mistake."

The cigarette glowed red as it ignited. Holding it between his fingers, he continued, "I should have taught you how to be wary of me."

Cesare’s eyes narrowed as he studied Eileen. She mentally countered his remark, thinking it wouldn’t have worked even if he had taught her. Yet, she kept this thought to herself.

He smoked in silence while Eileen stood calmly by his side. The rhythmic patter of raindrops against the leaves filled the quiet space.

His black hair, damp from the rain, clung to his pale skin. With his gaze lowered, Cesare smoked with an indifferent expression, occasionally turning his head to blow out the smoke.

Each time Cesare exhaled, Eileen scrunched up her nose at the strong smell. It was harsh, but it was Cesare, so it seemed bearable. When Ornella smoked, Eileen had found it unpleasant, but now, with Cesare, it felt different.

As she watched him smoke under the orange tree in the rain, she found herself asking without thinking,

"Can I try it too?"

Cesare let out a small, incredulous laugh.

"What, do you want to try everything I do?"

"That’s not it, but..."

She had expected him to refuse outright, but to her surprise, he didn’t say no. Instead, he placed the cigarette he had been smoking between her lips.

Eileen blinked in astonishment, finding the cigarette now resting on her lips. Without any further instruction, she instinctively took a deep inhale, only to be immediately overcome by a loud coughing fit.

The harsh smoke made her eyes water, and her face turned red as she struggled to catch her breath. Cesare quickly snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray and took back the handkerchief he had given her, gently wiping her mouth as she continued to cough. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"You’ve experienced it now. You won’t be eager to try it again, will you?" he said with a teasing tone.

Despite his playful words, Eileen understood the underlying message. It seemed he was trying to warn her that not everything he did was meant for her.

Cesare didn’t try to hide his intentions. He made it clear enough that even someone as oblivious as Eileen could understand.

Eileen looked up at Cesare with teary eyes, and he stared down at her in silence. Their gazes lingered for a long time, and in that moment, Eileen realized how completely she was surrounded by him—his clothes, the smoke from his cigarette, even the marks he had left on her neck. Everything enveloped her.

Wrapped in his large coat, shielding her from the rain, Eileen softly parted her lips.

"Cesare..."

Under the intensity of his crimson gaze, she whispered in a cracked voice.

"I know I’m not reliable, but I’ll do my best. So..."

A faint pain throbbed in her throat. Eileen swallowed, pushing the discomfort aside, and continued, "If there’s anything, anything at all that I can do to help, please tell me."

She wished she could take on his suffering herself. With that desperate hope, she looked at Cesare almost pleadingly.

Even in the dark, his crimson eyes shone vividly, an unnatural light that felt almost inhuman, like a spear piercing straight through her heart. Eileen held her breath, waiting for his response.

Eventually, Cesare gave a faint smile. He tugged at the coat covering her, letting it fall to the wet ground with a soft thud. Without concern for the mud staining the jacket, he gently cupped Eileen’s cheeks with both hands.

Then, he bent down and quietly kissed her. In the rain, under the orange tree, their lips met in silence. Eileen closed her eyes and returned the kiss.

After a few moments of tender intimacy, Cesare slowly pulled away. He licked his wet lips and stared at her with unwavering intensity.

Drenched from the rain, he exuded a dangerous allure. His red eyes seemed even more vivid, almost glowing.

"If you’re going to develop some wariness," he said, his eyes briefly narrowing, "I’ll have to be even worse."

Michele understood. Her master had been born a prince, which naturally led him to become a soldier—and as a soldier, he killed people.

Had he been the son of a butcher, he would have likely ended up slaughtering cows or pigs instead. For Cesare, there was little distinction between humans and animals. Killing held no real significance for him "If he’d been a butcher’s son, I’d probably be gutting cows right alongside him," Michele mumbled to herself, reflecting on Cesare’s recent actions. Diego, standing beside her, interrupted.

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