My Husband Caught Me Having an Affair - Chapter 102

Ethan collapsed forward.

“Ethan!”

The Duchess screamed. Soon, a loud commotion erupted among the knights.

Mael rushed over in an instant, kneeling before Ethan’s fallen form.

“Your Grace! Are you all right? Your Grace!”

The sword slipped from Vincent’s hand, clattering against the ground.

The sunlight pouring down from above made his vision blur. Vincent forced strength into his trembling legs to keep from collapsing.

The news that the Duke of Dumont had suffered a severe injury during a duel spread like wildfire. Newspapers quickly published special editions on the incident.

According to the articles, the Duke had been struck in the abdomen during the duel and had not regained consciousness since.

Reports stated that his internal injuries were so severe that his life hung in the balance.

The Girard mansion, Marlon’s chambers.

Marlon rested his fingertips against his temple, lost in thought.

“…So? No updates from the inside?”

He suddenly lifted his gaze and asked.

“No, sir. Given the circumstances, security is tighter than usual. It will take more time for our agents to gather any information.”

The one who answered was Mathieu Anglade, a senior agent in the Girard family’s intelligence unit. He was the mastermind and executor of the plot involving Vincent Frenet. A few days ago, he had been the man who met Vincent in the secluded cabin outside the city.

Without his hat and beard, Mathieu appeared entirely different from before. Apart from his sharp gaze, his face lacked any distinctive features—an asset that allowed him to assume any identity as needed. He was also the one who had taught Nicolas the art of disguise.

“What about contacting the physician?”

“That is difficult as well. He has remained by Ethan Dumont’s side since the incident.”

Marlon narrowed his eyes and fell silent again.

After observing him for a moment, Mathieu spoke, “You don’t seem particularly pleased. This is quite an impressive outcome.”

Marlon shifted his gaze to Mathieu. “Is that so?”

“Yes, of course. To be honest, even I didn’t expect Vincent to pull this off so well. I thought it would be a great success if he merely severed the tendons in Ethan’s arms or legs.”

“…And where is Vincent now?”

“He was detained by the Dumont knights on the day of the incident but was handed over to the police the next day. There was some dispute between Dumont and the authorities, but legally, they had no grounds to keep him. He underwent police questioning until yesterday and was released just this morning. He has now returned home.”

Marlon listened silently as Mathieu reported. Gauging his reaction, Mathieu continued,

“I understand your concerns, but there’s no need to worry. Dumont will never be able to trace the connection between us and Vincent. After all, Vincent was personally recommended by Mael Cantona. If they suspect anyone, Mael will be their first target, and that works in our favor.”

The reason they had approached Vincent in the first place was his close ties to Mael, the commander of the Dumont knights. The plan had been to exploit Vincent’s weakness to eventually undermine Mael himself.

But then, an unexpected golden opportunity had presented itself.

“Rest assured. We were more cautious than ever when making contact with Vincent. There has been no indication that Dumont has placed any surveillance on him.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Mathieu spoke with conviction.

From the night he had met Vincent in the cabin, Mathieu had assigned elite agents to monitor him. If anyone else had been shadowing Vincent, they would have detected it immediately.

“The only real risk is if Vincent breaks down and confesses on his own… but if he were the type to falter so easily, he wouldn’t have had the nerve to drive a blade into Ethan Dumont’s stomach. More than anything, he’s terrified that his gambling debts will be exposed and his honor ruined.”

“……”

Marlon tapped his temple lightly with two fingers, deep in thought.

“Now, all that remains is to eliminate Vincent at the right time. We’ll stage it as a suicide, blaming it on his overwhelming guilt. We’ve already prepared a forged suicide note in his handwriting. Don’t worry. It will be handled perfectly.”

Mathieu spoke with confidence.

It had been seven years since he had joined Girard’s intelligence unit, and throughout that time, he had carried out his missions flawlessly.

Whether Ethan Dumont would be able to rise again was something that remained to be seen, but if things continued as they were, this incident might become Mathieu’s greatest achievement. If that were the case, the next head of the intelligence unit would undoubtedly be him.

However, Marlon’s reaction was still lukewarm. Rather than appearing excited, he actually seemed somewhat displeased.

“Is something bothering you?”

“Yes.”

“What is it? If I missed something, please let me know. From what I see, everything has gone smoothly…”

“That’s exactly why. Everything has gone too smoothly.”

“Pardon?”

Marlon narrowed his snake-like eyes at Mathieu.

“Dumont’s side was the one to propose the duel first, even though we had already been working on Vincent. Then they went so far as to accept the suggestion of using real swords, and to top it all off, Vincent managed to land a fatal blow on Ethan Dumont? Doesn’t it all seem too convenient?”

Hearing Marlon’s words, Mathieu looked slightly flustered and quickly explained, “No, but… of course, this was an incredible stroke of luck for us. But it wasn’t that unnatural. Ethan Dumont has always been serious about honing his swordsmanship, and given Mael Cantona and Vincent’s relationship, it wasn’t strange for him to be recommended as an opponent. Using real swords in duels is also common among knights. Considering Ethan’s pride, he wouldn’t have wanted to refuse.”

“Yes, exactly. Every excuse, every justification is perfectly plausible. That is precisely why I don’t like it.”

Marlon spoke in a slow, deliberate tone.

“It’s as if I was standing under a tree with my mouth open, and the fruit just fell right in—peeled and ready to eat. Do you know how many times things have gone this smoothly for me since I became Duke?”

“…How many times?” Mathieu hesitantly asked.

“Not even once,” Marlon muttered under his breath.

“……”

“For now, we’ll continue to observe the situation. We don’t need to act until we confirm Ethan Dumont’s condition. Until then, delay taking action against Vincent.”

“But… leaving Vincent alive will only increase the risk.”

“If this is a trap set by Dumont, then moving against Vincent prematurely would be a hundred times more dangerous. Just follow my orders.”

“…Understood.”

Mathieu barely managed to suppress his frustration. He had been expecting praise and a fast track to promotion, but the outcome had veered far from his expectations.

***

Two days later.

Five days had passed since Ethan collapsed, yet there had been no official announcement of his recovery. House Dumont continued to state only that he was “still in the process of recovering.”

As a result, rumors began to circulate that the Duke might already be dead.

The underground gambling den Noir Perle opened at 9 p.m., just after sunset.

That night, not long after business had started, a man appeared at the entrance, where two guards stood watch.

It was Vincent.

Vincent staggered as if he would collapse at the slightest push. At a glance, it was obvious that he was completely drunk. His beard was unkempt, suggesting he hadn’t shaved in days.

“Sir Vincent, what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be keeping a low profile right now?”

One of the guards, who recognized Vincent, spoke curtly.

“…Tell him to come out.”

“What?”

“Guillaume Bonello—the owner of this gambling den! Tell him that Vincent Frenet is here and demands to see him immediately!”

The sharp stench of alcohol wafted from Vincent’s breath. The guard grimaced in disgust.

“What kind of disgraceful behavior is this? Stop causing trouble and go home. You know you’re banned from entering here.”

Vincent swayed as he approached and grabbed the guard by the collar.

“Can you take responsibility for this? Are you ready to deal with what I might say? Call him out! If you don’t, I’ll shout everything right here for all the guests inside to hear!”

“Damn it… Are you serious right now?”

The guard scowled and reached for Vincent’s hand, trying to pry it off his collar. But before he could, the other guard, who had been standing beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Wait. We can’t afford to cause a scene.”

“But—”

“Just keep him quiet for now. I’ll go inside and check.”

At that, the first guard reluctantly eased his expression. The second guard turned, opened the door, and disappeared into the gambling den.