Chapter 4

Seeing my evasive gaze, his face showed suspicion.

"You're my wife. Could it be you're having an affair, wanting to climb a higher branch?"

I hastily denied it.

"Of course not!"

"Then why do you want a divorce?"

Xavier's sharp eyes stared at me intently, as if wanting to see through my heart.

My palms were sweating.

"I---my ambitions aren't domestic. I don't want to be confined by you. Women have their own ideals and aspirations too."

"I see you sleeping, eating, drinking, and playing around all day. I thought you liked it, so I only gave you gold, silver, and jewels. If you have any ideals, I can support you completely. I absolutely won't stand in your way."

Xavier was clearly angry.

Without waiting for me to speak, he pressed me against the wall, fiercely kissing my collarbone, using physical action to punish me.

"I don't want to hear the word 'divorce' from your mouth a second time!"

I was ordered confined by him.

Xavier stormed off angrily.

Before leaving, he instructed the servants to watch me carefully, not allowing me to step outside.

He placed me under house arrest, not knowing it perfectly suited my plans.

I was grief-stricken, biting my pen as I wrote a "Ten Crimes of Xavier," detailing everything, even criticizing him for not shaving his beard.

After finishing my farewell letter, I casually sent Charlotte a message:

"I've fooled Xavier. Departing immediately. Coming to join you---remember to pick me up, and remember my dividends and handsome men."

That night, I set a fire in my room, eliminating all traces.

Afterward, I escaped through a small tunnel I had dug under the back wall.

In a place I couldn't see, a dignified seven-foot man, looking at the ruins burned clean by the fire, cried his heart out---Xavier, who had never shed a tear.

But I was completely unaware of all this, humming a tune as I boarded a plane to the south.

I cheerfully went to find Charlotte.

The moment I saw Charlotte in that southern city, I was stunned.

Charlotte now wore brilliant colors, her smile radiant---she was already the famous owner of a high-end club throughout the city.

Clearly, she was living extremely well.

"Well, well, I didn't expect you to actually escape. In that case, I'll reluctantly take you in."

Charlotte proudly showed me around her establishment.

I was dumbfounded.

The club had three floors.

The first floor was ordinary dining and dancing.

The second floor was more open---you could drink while watching muscular men perform.

The top floor had VIP suites where premium male models entertained guests.

"Natalie, you've come at just the right time. I'll lend you my prized possession, but you must promise to help me with something."

Charlotte enthusiastically introduced me to the most handsome mixed-race young man.

The young man had a small, reddish mole at the corner of his eye, like a frozen teardrop.

I couldn't help but look twice.

However, when he leaned in to kiss me, my face paled and I instinctively dodged.

"...Let's forget it. I'm not in the mood today."

Charlotte pouted, urgently grabbing me.

"I don't care. The person's already here. Whether you use him is up to you, but you must help me with what you promised!"

It turned out that a grand Valentine's Day gala was coming up, with a spectacular exotic dance as the finale---imported from abroad.

But the foreign dancer she'd hired at great expense had run off a month ago to be a wealthy merchant's kept lover.

My mother was a professional dancer, best at this dance.

She was foreign, so I was born with mixed-race eyes, looking different from the locals.

That's why she wanted me to substitute.

Under someone else's roof, I had to bow my head.

I could only agree, on the condition that I wouldn't entertain guests.

She laughed.

"You're here to keep me company and chat anyway. Besides, I only have male models here---how would I make you entertain guests?"

I was given this emergency assignment and rehearsed with the dance troupe for half a month before the Valentine's Day gala arrived.

At nightfall, this city was full of song and dance---a spectacular scene I'd never witnessed in the north.

I wore a water-blue exposed-waist dress, with two magnolia flowers tucked low by my temples, pearl-beaded face veils barely covering half my face, and went on stage barefoot.

I danced to the musician's music, my tense movements gradually relaxing.

The crowd was full of rowdy catcalls and jokes.

In the candlelight, my snow-white, slender waist was on full display---Xavier's favorite part in the past.

Lost in thought, my dance steps unconsciously faltered, and from the corner of my eye I suddenly caught sight of a pair of dark eyes below the stage.

That person was both strange and familiar, with a refined face free of any stubble, sharp features---even more handsome than the city's acknowledged heartthrob.

After staring blankly for a long time, I suddenly realized who those eyes belonged to.

It was Xavier!