My Vengeful Former Lover

Lucius seldom raised his voice and scolded his people.
He grabbed the reins of the servant’s horse and rushed towards the manor as fast as he could.
Once he reached the place, the scene that greeted him was bizarre.

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A doctor was pacing outside Deatrice’s door, unable to do anything, while the others were simply standing with lost expressions.
Lucius wondered why he didn’t anticipate this outcome.
After all, he said it himself, Deatrice was weak.

So weak that if you just gave her just a bit of stress, she would fall sick.

How could he forget?

Even during the years when they were still genuinely together, didn’t she have a fever every few days? She had even gotten ill on the way here just not too long ago…

I’ll have to arrange for her to have an appointment with a doctor.

Every single day.

Lucius thought nervously.
He looked around the attendants and finally thought to ask, “Since when has she been like that?”

“This morning, m’lord.”

“And you didn’t report it to me right away?”

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The servant immediately became anxious.
“The madam didn’t want to call you—”

“What can a sick person even do to you?” he angrily cut off.
“From now on, you must call for me directly when something like this happens.
Understood?”

“Yes, master!”

After glaring at the servants, Lucius knocked on her door.
“Deatrice, I’m here.
Let me in.”

He received no answer.

Decisively, he broke the doorknob and strode into the room.
He first scanned the floors to see if she was lying unconscious somewhere, then he sighed a little in relief.

Fortunately, he couldn’t see her anywhere on the ground.

He headed towards her bedroom, but he noticed that he couldn’t find her there either.
Panicking, he abruptly halted his steps and whirled his head from side to side trying to see if he could spot her figure.

Where is she?

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He glanced at the terrace doors and wondered if she had run away…

At that moment, an amused laughter suddenly rang out.
Lucius pivoted his gaze towards the origin of that sound and soon found her sitting calmly on the sofa.

“I didn’t think you’d fall for such a shallow trick.” he heard her say.

Smiling, Deatrice casually shifted her gaze from him to the book she was holding.

Lucius chuckled despite himself and walked towards where she sat.
“Hm.
You faked a commotion just so you could see me?”

“Yes.” she calmly replied.
Then she smiled, “Because you ‘love’ me, don’t you? You would’ve had no choice but to come.”

“They think you’ve collapsed.”

She flipped a page, “That’s why I yell at them from time to time, so they wouldn’t barge in and ruin my plans.”

“Telling them not to come in, and to not call for me…”

“It sounds exactly the same as ‘you should call your master because I’m already close to dying’, right?” Deatrice took her eyes off the book and looked up at him defiantly.

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Lucius looked into her eyes.
Now, he could see that she was truly angry.
After all, she, who values dignity the most, must’ve felt like her previous action of faking sickness was unbefitting of her status.

He said as softly as he could to try and ease her anger, “You know, you can still meet me even without doing this.”

Deatrice slammed the book shut.
“You’ve already promised to meet with me countless times.
When have you ever showed up?”

“I was busy.” he defended, “But know that there’s no reason for me to avoid you.”

She scoffed.
“No reason to avoid me?” Glaring up at him, she fiercely rebuked, “You’ve denied me authority, kept locked up in this room, left your servants to deal with me, and now you’re telling me that you ‘have no reason to avoid me’?”

“Deatrice, stop, you’re just too agitated.”

“Am I, now?”

He extended his arm out and tried to grab her hand, but Deatrice pulled it out of his reach and added, “You told me before that I needed to mind my place.
Did you marry me just so I could be some useless vase?”

The moment she got too serious, a brief moment of silence passed.
Then he couldn’t stop himself and he chuckled.

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“Why are you laughing?”

The corners of his lips raised into a smile, “Well, can’t really say that this isn’t funny…”

She clenched her fists at his insensitive attitude.
“This look may seem funny to you, but to humiliate me—”

“How am I humiliating you?” he asked earnestly, as if wanting to understand something.

“You want to know what’s humiliating? Having to ask permission from your sister to change a painting in my house and feeling like my status is inferior to that of your attendant.”

Deatrice unconsciously crumpled a page of the book and put it down.

“I’m already your wife and now have the authority to govern this house as I please, so those issues shouldn’t have existed in the first place! If you simply see me as an outsider or a guest, then you shouldn’t have married me!”

Lucius raised a brow and was quick to refute her words, “Authority is cognizantly given by the husband to his wife.
It isn’t automatically granted right after marriage.”

Disbelief appeared on her face.
She wanted to wipe that smug expression off his face with her fist.
“Who in today’s world is such an old-fashioned—”

“Old-fashioned or not, it doesn’t matter.
After all, I am the head of this family, and my decisions are final.”