Chapter 59
He had become too obvious—an existence so natural to her that he was taken for granted.
And he had thought that was a good thing. He wanted to be someone irreplaceable in Shirley’s life, someone she couldn’t live without. He had believed he succeeded.
But in reality, Shirley had reached the point where his presence was so comfortable, so expected, that it bored her.
His mistake.
If his fiancée—betrothed to him since before birth—was growing weary of him, if she no longer saw him as a man… then he needed to approach her differently.
—
“You’re learning Rachen?”
“Yeah. Melissa and I are planning a trip there.”
“Why Rachen?”
“Uh… just for fun, I guess? It’s where Melissa grew up.”
Shirley was terrible at lying. Her face betrayed her instantly—there was another reason. He needed to dig deeper.
And it didn’t take long to find out.
—
“I’ll introduce you to some friends I had back in Rachen. Male friends.”
“Male friends?”
“You’re going to marry Damian anyway, but there’s no harm in meeting other people, right?”
Ah.
Listening in, Damian could only sigh.
Shirley, unable to hide her excitement at Melissa’s words, was one thing. But Melissa—constantly egging her on—was another.
“You should experience different kinds of men before settling down.”
“But Damian is—”
“Too safe. Too predictable. Don’t you want to know what real passion feels like?”
—
Damian’s grip tightened around the book in his hands.
So this was the plan.
Shirley didn’t just doubt their future as husband and wife—she was being pushed to explore other men.
And if she did…
Would she still choose him?
A cold smirk curled at the edge of his lips.
Then fine.
If familiarity had made him invisible, he’d remind her exactly what kind of man he was.
—
That night, he made a decision.
If she wanted to meet other men… he’d make sure the only one she truly saw was him.
Melissa was no different.
He had meticulously eliminated every fly buzzing around Shirley, and now he had to deal with foreign pests too?
This is why you should choose your friends carefully.
But Melissa was the fiancée of Terban—someone he couldn’t touch.
—
“My, Damian, why the sudden interest in learning Rachenian?”
His mother, the Duchess of Elpart, was surprised when he requested a private tutor. Damian smoothly deflected.
“I’ve developed an interest. Given how often we interact with them, fluency would be beneficial.”
“But you’re already studying it at the Academy, aren’t you?”
“Not enough. And…” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “This is a secret from Shirley. I want to master it completely—enough to sound like a native—before surprising her.”
Though Damian was a prodigy in mathematics and physics, languages came just as naturally to him. It didn’t take long before he could flawlessly mimic a Rachenian accent.
—
[Are you alright?]
The voice behind the mask was smooth, effortless.
Shirley’s expression—half curiosity, half anticipation—flickered in response.
Seeing it, bitterness welled up in his chest.
So this is what she was waiting for.
The thrill of the unknown. The excitement of a new man. The hunger for something—someone—she hadn’t experienced before.
And he had become… predictable.
—
But no longer.
The masked figure before her—polished, mysterious, foreign—was still him.
And when he finally revealed the truth, he’d make sure she never looked at another man again.
Even if it meant breaking her heart first.
A relationship too familiar had grown stale, creaking under the weight of its own predictability.
“But… it’s because we’ve known each other for so long. Damian probably… feels the same way. We’ve been bound together since before we were born. Maybe even closer than blood relatives. I think it’s nice. We know each other so well, we’re so comfortable, and…”
The longer she rambled, the more fragile her words became.
“If that’s how it is, then just call off the engagement.”
The moment he heard those words, any hesitation left in him shattered.
The game he had been leisurely enjoying—snap—was over in an instant.
This is no longer fun.
A flash of anger, a reckless impulse—and now, hearing this?
Ah, Shirley.
My Shirley.
She had no idea just how far she’d crossed the line. She probably never would.
And she certainly wouldn’t realize the price she’d have to pay for it.
After all, you can’t survive without the carrots I give you.
—
There were countless ways to win Shirley over. The girl was soft-hearted, quick to tears, and sensitive—placating her was almost too easy.
Expensive gifts didn’t matter.
A single rabbit released in the garden was enough to make her smile.
Just playing the pitiful fool could tug at her sympathy effortlessly.
But none of that would fix the real problem.
She didn’t see him as a man.
So he’d have to make her see.
—
That night, Damian made his move.
Not as her childhood friend.
Not as her devoted fiancé.
But as someone new.
And when she realized who he really was—
It would be too late to run.
And…
When I saw you searching for me in the depths of the water—
“Damian! Damian!”
Your voice, hoarse from screaming my name, filled me with such warmth that I nearly missed the right moment to resurface.
I wondered—what face would you make if I really did float up as a waterlogged corpse?
But if that happened, I’d never see you again… so I held back.
Just watching you tremble in fear of losing me was enough.
See? You can’t live without me.
—
“Nngh…”
Damian looked down at Shirley curled in his arms. She twitched in her sleep, soft whimpers escaping her lips—lost in some dream.
“Shirley.”
He pulled her bare body closer, lips brushing her ear as he whispered. But of course, no answer came. After everything he’d put her through, she was far too deep in exhausted slumber.
“……”
A dark smile curled at the edges of his mouth as he watched her sleep, her breaths slow and even.
Mine. Completely mine.
My Shirley.
Now she could never escape. Not her body, not her heart—perfectly his, bound to him for life.
It took some time, but none of it was wasted.
After all, Shirley was fully his now.
“Sleep well, Shirley.”
His lips brushed against her rosy cheek, feather-light, before pulling away.
“When you wake up… everything will still be the same.”
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