The End of a Fake Marriage

Tap tap.

After neatly stacking some documents and tapping them to align them, Michael Ankès glanced out the window. The rain, which had fallen all day, was finally subsiding as the sun began to set.

Ah, a truly welcome sight. Michael, with his strong and rugged features, allowed a rare smirk to tug at the corner of his lips.

“What the hell are you laughing at all alone?”

As if he’d been watching, Louis Dumpel, his partner and eternal rival, frowned and challenged him.

Michael stared intently at Louis, then sighed, rising from his chair.

“Watch your words.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? You call something disgusting and it’s just disgusting, isn’t it?”

Serving as Alexander Chambler’s secretary for nearly four years, Michael and Louis had never seen eye to eye. From their first encounter to now, their relationship had always been strained.

Despite Michael’s noble origins and subsequent fall from grace, Louis, the son of a poor shoemaker who clawed his way to the top, despised the sudden rise of someone like Michael, who arrived almost effortlessly.

“What a bothersome upstart. If he made even the slightest mistake, I’d have him dismissed in an instant. Ugh!”

For four years, he’d been looking for an opportunity, but he still hadn’t found a reason to get rid of him. For someone so rough-looking, he was incredibly meticulous.

“Disgusting is just your prejudice. I’m here to report.”

‘…And as usual, his responses are short. How irritating!’

Louis shook his head, scowling as Michael Ankès disappeared into the representative’s office. His gaze lingered for a moment before his expression shifted.

“No, I shouldn’t be doing this to someone walking straight into their grave.”

What was in that room was not a human being.

It was a hungry beast, or perhaps an active volcano itself, holding magma that could erupt at any moment.

And it wasn’t even raining now.

It was like throwing a sausage into the mouth of a hungry lion.

‘…Thinking about it that way, he’s quite pathetic.’

Louis made the sign of the cross toward where Michael Ankès had left and tidied up the place while humming. It was my first time leaving work in two days.

***

Lightly knocking, Michael took a deep breath before quietly pushing the door open. On the other side of the door, a completely different space unfolded.

Beyond the smoothly opening wooden door lay a space that resembled the depths of the ocean, filled with the thick haze of cigarette smoke.

In the thick air, loose jazz music rippled like waves. On the oak desk, scattered with numerous reports, cigarette butts lay piled high like dead fish on a ship’s deck. And countless empty liquor bottles littered the floor.

Who would believe that this decadent, almost depraved space was the CEO’s office of Chambler Corp.? Though the fact that he worked relentlessly in this condition was even more frightening…

“You haven’t eaten properly, and drinking heavily will take a toll on your health,” Michael sighed, addressing the man sprawled on the leather couch with a stack of reports covering his face. He spoke in a calm, collected voice, though concern laced his words.

“I’ll bring in a simple sandwich, at least. You should eat something.”

“…Everyone seems to want to nag me. I’m doing just fine, though.”

Michael wonder how anyone could see him as managing just fine.

Whether it was from lack of sleep or illness, his voice was raspy, like scraping metal across his throat.

‘…Is he really going to die soon?’

Michael looked at Alexander Chambler with genuine concern.

His boss had a tendency to overwork himself. He might have passion for his business, but it felt like his goal was simply to overwork himself.

‘Is it an exaggeration to say that he seems to be strangling himself… …?’

“What are you doing? Don’t you have a report to give?”

When Michel remained silent, bright blue eyes, bloodshot beneath the paper, finally appeared.

‘What am I thinking? That can’t be right?’

Michel quickly opened the report at that chilling gaze.

“This is the final report for the M21 technical test. 2140cc 4-cylinder engine, top speed of 120 km/h, and a maximum output of 49 horsepower. The suspension and shock absorber issues have been improved, and the ride comfort has been significantly enhanced. As you mentioned, the brake test on all four wheels has been completed. The color, in collaboration with Arthur Paint, will be launched in Golden Bridge and Diamond Black initially.”

“What about the production facilities?”

“Yes, additional factories have been established in Ventus and Levente, and existing plant operations are proceeding smoothly. A separate financial report will be submitted.”

“What about the motor show schedule…”

“That’s…”

“Shipping schedule…”

“Still being confirmed…”

The boring and mechanical business conversation continued after that.

Michael answered sharp questions like a student taking a test in front of a teacher. Meanwhile, Alexander, who had slowly gotten up, stopped as he picked up the medicine bottles lying carelessly on the table.

He’d forgotten he was out of pills.

He sighed softly and drank a glass of lukewarm water. His stomach hurt as if it was burning, but it was better than the headache that threatened to split his skull.

“…Urban Development Project… Senator Augustus… Meeting…”

Michael’s voice faded in and out. Alexander, barely listening, clutched his forehead, his brow furrowed.

“Do you really think of me as just a disposable item?”

Then, the image of a small woman, her shoulders trembling like a vulnerable deer in the shadows, flashed in his mind.

Damn it.

‘…Disappear. Just vanish.’

“…I see. I understand.”

As if responding to his silent scream, Renee turned away. A sharp pain pierced Renée’s chest, as if a piece of her heart had been ripped out.

Crazy bastard.

Was he regretting it? That was absurd. He hadn’t said it without anticipating her reaction; he had said it knowing it would hurt her. Or rather, more accurately, he had said it hoping it would hurt her.

So, this is the end.

Not too bad, not too good, just enough to close a chapter with no lingering feelings.

He had used her as he pleased, as if she were merely a tool. Then, he wanted to return her in better condition, cleaner and better than he’d found her.

An item. Perhaps, as Renée had said, he truly treated her as an object. Something beautiful, borrowed for a while from Whitehall, something used temporarily. Something that wasn’t his and thus couldn’t be held. Something precious and lovely that he had to push away, deny himself, to avoid greed.

“…”

Calming his breath, Alexander tightly gripped the empty pill bottle.

The sturdy tin case easily crumpled under the expressionless man’s grasp.

***

In the end, the cats were not found.

Despite the night falling, the cats remained invisible, and everyone in the mansion was searching for these small creatures, but not a single hair could be seen.

‘Where on earth could they have gone?’

Renee’s mind was heavy as she changed into her nightgown and straightened her hair.

She was worried about the cats, who might be wandering around in this rain, and if they were getting rained on somewhere…

And the missing cat wasn’t the only thing. She still hadn’t found the earring. It all left her feeling unsettled.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she gently adjusted her nightgown and stood up.

At that moment, adjusting the lamp’s brightness, a small cat door in the corridor suddenly moved, and something rushed towards her quickly.

Meow—!

At the familiar sound, Renee stopped and looked down. A calico cat, soaked to the bone, clung to her skirt.

“Rain! Where have you been! Goodness, you’re drenched! Where are the kittens?”

Rene’s outstretched hand was pushed roughly away by the cat, causing it to fall to the floor. However, the animal immediately clung to her leg again, letting out a prolonged, desperate meow.

Meowww—!

While she couldn’t understand animal language, the cry sounded desperate.

And Rain looked worse than ever. Her fur was dirty, as if she’d been rolling on the ground, her leg was limping, and her eyes were bloodshot…

Something wasn’t right.