Chapter 2 Don't Touch The Woman He Loves

Against the light, Leonard stood at the doorway.

The crimson shirt set off his air of untouchable nobility.

After a brief stare, his eyes turned cold.

"You're still alive?"

How amusing—that after three years, Leonard could look down on me and speak with such condescension.

Intrigued, I slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to stand before him.

I traced lazy circles across his luxurious silk shirt with my finger.

"I'm not dying anytime soon—but you just might."

Leonard visibly flinched, as if some memory had struck him.

But he quickly regained his lofty composure.

"This is the last time I'll come to see you. I'm done with your suicide drama every few days, Selena. Why don't you just do it for real?"

I had known I'd gone mad over Leonard, but I hadn't realized how extreme and obsessive I had become.

I had gambled my life just for a chance to see Leonard.

Smiling, I patted Leonard's face.

"Think you're that important? If you're still alive, why would I waste my death on you?"

Perhaps it was the familiar pressure, but Leonard stepped back.

"You..."

I turned to climb back into bed, suddenly remembering Nora.

"And keep your little mistress on a leash. If she pisses me off, I'll send her to the grave with you."

At the mention of Nora's name, Leonard's noble facade shattered.

He lunged at me, gripping my shoulders hard.

The fire in his eyes burned so fiercely it threatened to consume me.

"Nora means everything to me! Touch her and you're dead!"

Watching Leonard's agitation, a nameless ache rose in my chest.

The servants had already told me most of what had happened between Leonard and me, and I thought I was ready to face him.

But when I truly stood before Leonard, the ease I had imagined never came—instead, a sorrow deep in my soul surfaced.

Perhaps, in those three years, I had truly loved Leonard.

So when I saw him threaten me over Nora, a dull pain throbbed in my heart.

Yet I didn't like the feeling at all.

Seeing my silence, Leonard's tone hardened, "If you dare lay a finger on Nora, I'll tear you apart."

The deadly seriousness in Leonard's eyes told me that if I touched Nora, he truly would kill me.

And perhaps he was right—I had torn Leonard and his precious Nora apart.

To drive them apart, I had staged suicide after suicide.

Now I had gone mad enough to think of killing the woman he loved, just to claim him for myself.

Anyone would want to destroy the sinner who ruined their love.

If it had been someone else—or even the woman I was three years from now—I might have gone pale at Leonard's threats and begged for mercy on my knees.

But I was no longer that woman.

Leonard could no longer threaten me.

The uncanny calm in my eyes filled Leonard's with confusion and unease.

"What the hell do you want?"

I only watched him quietly, a faint smile playing at my lips.

Everyone knew this was the sign that I was about to strike.

But Leonard, oblivious, suddenly slapped me hard across the face.

"Are you gonna talk or not?"

The force of Leonard's slap told me one thing—his love for Nora was real.

I was about to mock Leonard again when the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

I wiped it away, the vivid red stark and grotesque against the night.

"Well then, Leonard, very well," I thought. "If I don't take you down now, I'd be betraying myself."

"Don't worry, Leonard—you'll die before Nora. And down in hell, you can beg for her all you want."

My voice was calm, too real to be an act, and Leonard clutched his hair in helplessness.

The next moment, he tore at my clothes in a frenzy.

"You crazy bitch—why are you turning back into your old self? Didn't you always want my child? Fine, I'll give you that—just stay the hell away from Nora!"