After the gunfire, the shooting range fell silent.
Ivy put down her gun and looked at her score, barely passing.
In the end, she couldn't keep the child in her womb.
It's just as well if she couldn't keep him. Born with sin, she couldn't guarantee that when she saw this child in the future, she won't project her hatred onto him.
Without the child, she became more clear-headed.
She came understand a truth: whether something is strong or weak, it all depends on one's own effort to fight for it. If she give up on herself, no one will give her hope. When she gritted her teeth in hatred towards that woman, Arabella, she had to admit that what she said was right.
After becoming clear-headed, she also deeply realized that Marcellus had no feelings for her.
The love she had once believed in, the mutual affection she thought they shared, was merely an illusion—hidden beneath equal status and mutual benefit.
The only reason she could still stay in the Ackerley mansion was because of the past ties between her brother and Marcellus—or rather, because of the guilt Marcellus felt over the downfall of the Darnley.
The secret Arabella had revealed to her, she thought it was hidden so deeply that no one would ever uncover it.
But after coming to this country and trying to investigate, she still managed to learn bits and pieces of past entanglements.
It turned out that Marcellus had a twin brother, who had died at the hands of Arabella.
How laughable. The man she was supposed to marry—she actually knew nothing about him.
The twists of the past were known only to those involved, but whether love or hate, why should it involve innocent people like them?
She and her brother, the entire Darnley, had been buried for their ridiculous hatred.
Arabella!
She would never let her off!
One day, this grudge, this hatred, she would make that woman pay.
*
Merrick, who was taken back to the Rus base ahead of time, had no idea about the big moves that Arabella and the others were making there.
He wasn't surprised to be taken away.
As an outsider, he naturally had no right to know the movements, routes, or methods of the operations of Arabella and her group.
Even in the Rus base, he didn't let his guard down. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was watching him closely yet, he silently observed the base's setup and firepower, memorizing every detail.
Crime knows no borders, nor does it discriminate against targets. For him, AE was an enemy to be eradicated, and so was Arabella.
These people were bloodthirsty, cruel, and guilty of every atrocity. They deserved to be executed a hundred times over.
After just a couple of days in Rus, he heard the sounds of loud cheering and shouting outside, as if a victory parade was underway.
Clearly, it was Arabella and her group returning.
During all this time, he hadn't had a chance to approach Arabella, and he didn't even know what she looked like. She had always been coming and going without much fanfare, never traveling with the main group, staying as low-key as possible.
Seizing the opportunity in the midst of the celebration, Merrick was eager to get a glimpse of the rumored elusive "Master Unknown."
Unfortunately, while there were many people celebrating, when he looked around, all he saw were men, and not a single woman in sight.
He couldn't help but be curious and guessed that the elusive Master Unknown was probably some burly, masculine woman who was as rough and wild as a man.
Because she was strong and tall, he had momentarily mistaken her identity.
In fact, Arabella had never entered the Rus base. After settling Julius into a room she had rented separately, she contacted Taras again.
The setting sun cast a slanted glow, and Arabella sat at the end of the street corner, eating something, her voice on the phone filled with certainty: "Let's begin."
On the other end of the phone, Taras's laughter was a little mad. He wasn't thinking of important matters; he simply missed Arabella. "Alright, alright. Master Unknown, hurry up and come. My dick fucking miss you so much."
*
When Julius woke up, his whole body ached; he felt like his bones had fallen apart.
He looked around in confusion; it was an entirely unfamiliar environment.
Then his mind was split open by all the terrifying past, and in his panic, he couldn't find Arabella.
"Arabella! Arabella, where are you?"
It was raining outside, and in his panic, he ran out barefoot, his feet hitting the ground with urgency.
His chest hurt so badly he could hardly breathe, one hand clutching his chest, the other propping himself against the wall as he staggered forward.
Before he could even make it halfway out of the house, he saw Arabella's figure from a distance.
She walked slowly in the rain, the heavy downpour making her fragile body seem to tremble.
Julius was overjoyed. He released his grip on the wall, stumbling and crawling toward her, and threw himself at her, holding her tightly.
The rain soaked his arms, making them ice-cold, and he shivered, feeling the cold of having lost comfort.
Arabella had just finished eating and made the call, returning as usual without the habit of holding an umbrella in the rain. Seeing Julius roll and crawl toward her, she didn't change her expression or miss a heartbeat. "What's wrong?"
"I woke up and couldn't find you. I was so scared."
Arabella remained unmoved, guiding him back into the house.
Julius, his body heat as a man, had only Arabella on his mind at this moment. The idea of "men and women should keep their distance" had long been discarded.
He held Arabella's hand tightly, his palm large, broad, and warm, drawing in all her coldness into his warm chest.
He kept the cold woman in his hands, and also locked her away in his heart.
*
The sound of the rain was soft and persistent, like the chaotic beat of his heart.
He didn't dare to ask, not even dare to think.
What happened in the car, he didn't care at all.
It was his failure to protect Arabella. He thought his divine protection was meant for everyone, yet it failed to protect the one he loved.
At this moment, he hated himself, loathing himself more than anything else.
Arabella lay quietly in Julius's broad chest, her soul detached and far away, calculating how to use him as a pawn.
When he finally calmed down, Julius realized that Arabella had sat down right at the base of his thigh, perfectly positioned in the danger zone.
He took a deep, nervous breath, but as soon as he inhaled, his chest ached. When he instinctively exhaled, his hips subtly bucked upward.
Arabella noticed his discomfort and reached out her arm to wrap around him, asking with a smile, "Are you aroused?"
Yes, he was.
Compared to the first time, he could no longer resist his lower half, and he was increasingly unable to guard his heart.
When they kissed again, he was still a bit inexperienced, but he had learned to actively respond.
Arabella traced his lips with her tongue, stirring up a storm within him. He was completely entranced by the kiss, and when Arabella's hand reached into his abs to caress him, he was oblivious, allowing her to knead him.
When Arabella ripped off her clothes, Julius felt like his life was collapsing.
The extremely trembled!
He had never seen a woman's breasts so vividly before, swaying like flowing stream water, ripples enchanting beyond measure.
It was as if he were under some spell, his hand touching the smooth, satin-like texture, gleaming and elastic.
Julius knew he was blushing without even looking at his cheek, and his self-control was faltering—he was on the edge, like a man sitting on top of a volcano, waiting for eruption.
The impulse of resolve barely showed himself.
He barely held onto Arabella's slender waist, where he felt the softness of her body and the scent of her flesh, which made him lose himself.
"Arabella. Arabella, please marry me. All these things, we'll deal with after we're married."
Arabella stopped all her movements, her eyes wide open as if she had just heard something utterly unbelievable.
"What did you just say?"
Her heart was cold and ruthless, but she had only intended to use Julius's identity as a cover. To have things progress this far left her both bewildered and somewhat amused.
Her repeated questioning only served to solidify Julius's resolve.
With serious determination, his voice hoarse, laced with desire and urgency, he spoke: "Arabella! Marry me. Let me love you, cherish you for the rest of my life, okay?"
This time, Arabella could sense the sincerity in his words.
She suddenly smiled, her smile dark and slightly eerie, even more so than the rain outside. Yet, her posture remained relaxed, an unintentionally alluring aura around her.
"Alright... You marry me."
