My Husband Caught Me Having an Affair - Chapter 116

“I actually arrived a bit early. It’s just that Your Grace came far too early.”

The man sat across from Marlon and took off his hat, setting it down.

“Still, it’s quite an honor to meet you like this. I’d heard you weren’t one to come out to places like this.”

“There’s a reason. That’s also why I called you here today.”

“A reason, huh. What kind of reason might that be?”

“I suspect there’s a mole inside the intelligence unit.”

At Marlon’s words, the man let out a low whistle.

“Then I suppose it makes sense for someone like me to be summoned directly. So, is the job to find that rat?”

“Hardly. How could I ask you to peel a grape with a butcher’s knife?”

At Marlon’s slow reply, the man’s eyes narrowed.

“Someone else is already handling the mole hunt. There’s another urgent matter, just as pressing. Since I can’t trust the intelligence unit, I’m asking you to take care of it.”

The man twisted one corner of his mouth into a grin and asked, “I see. So whose throat do I need to slit?”

“No need to slit any throats. At least not yet.”

Marlon slid the documents on the table toward the man.

“The details are all written there. Read it over.”

The man took the documents and skimmed them quickly.

“Take your time. Ask questions once you’ve finished.”

“Understood. But before that, I’d like to discuss the most important part—my fee.”

Marlon stared at the man with an expressionless face. “What’s the highest fee you’ve ever been paid?”

After a brief pause, the man answered swiftly, “Eighty million.”

He had likely inflated the amount by two or three times. Even accounting for that, it was a rather modest number.

“I’ll pay you double.”

At those words, the man’s expression changed.

“…Are you serious?”

“Of course. But half of that will be a success bonus.”

“That’s no problem at all. As long as I succeed, that’s what matters.”

The man grinned broadly.

“Ah, but what exactly defines success in this case? I skimmed the document, and it looked like if we fail to get the information, we’re to kill them both…”

“Naturally. Success means obtaining all the information listed.”

“All of it? That’s a bit vague. How will you even know if the intel we get is real or not…?”

“I’ll be the judge of its authenticity. If you get only partial intel, I’ll pay your success fee proportionally.”

“Well, I know Your Grace isn’t one to haggle over money… Fine, I accept.”

The man shrugged as he spoke. His attitude suggested reluctance, but inwardly, he was likely thinking that even the upfront fee alone made it worth it.

“Also, I get the feeling you didn’t read it thoroughly. Better take another look.”

“Huh? Really?”

At Marlon’s words, the man tilted his head and opened the file again.

“Yes. Whether you succeed in extracting information or not doesn’t matter. In the end, both of them must be killed. The cleanup must be flawless. No one should know where they went, whether they’re dead or alive. Do you understand me?”

The man felt a chill crawl down his arm.

Normally, in this kind of contract killing, the client displayed one of two emotions—burning fury or cold, calculated malice. Either way, there was always a thick undercurrent of murderous intent.

But from Marlon, there was nothing. No emotion at all. His voice was calm, as if assigning a trivial errand.

Marlon laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the table, speaking in a relaxed tone.

“Let me know when you’ve finished reading.”

About thirty minutes later, Marlon left the VVIP room.

Julien Leboeuf. Nicknamed “The Butcher.” A top-tier contract killer. A man mad for money, but known for flawless execution.

In other words, the perfect choice for a job like this. He would do anything for the right price, and he knew how to keep quiet.

‘Unlike that other one…’

Recalling the “Black Gentleman” he had met not long ago, Marlon’s expression darkened slightly.

Despite boldly presenting that flashy card marked with a large “L” and tracking him all the way to the pub, the man had rejected the job with ease.

“I’m afraid I must decline.”

“I’ll pay you whatever you ask.”

“That’s not the issue. I have a rule—I don’t take on jobs that lack romance.”

Marlon narrowed his eyes as he remembered the man. The gentleman had raised both corners of his mouth in an elegant smile.

“Unless it’s a jewel locked in an unopenable vault, or a damsel in distress to be rescued… nothing else gets my heart racing.”

Was he serious? Surely not. Who in their right mind said such things? He must have just made something up to turn down the job.

‘The Black Gentleman never fails.’ That was the rumor that had persisted in the underworld for over ten years.

It would have been a chance to test whether that was true—but it didn’t matter. There were always replacements. Everything in life was like that.

Hands behind his back, Marlon walked off slowly.

***

“How is it, Duchess? Does it suit your taste?”

At Ines’s cautious question, I smiled brightly.

“Yes, it’s delicious. The steamed fish is wonderful. Especially the sauce—it’s fresh and savory. Did you make it yourself?”

“Ah, yes. It’s a secret recipe I learned from my mother.”

Ines beamed as she spoke, clearly pleased.

“I didn’t know you were such a good cook. Don’t you have a cook at home?”

“I do, but Jacques prefers it when I cook for him myself. Before we got married, I always did the cooking, so it feels natural.”

As a close confidant of the Dumont Ducal family, Jacques was a commoner, but he led a fairly affluent life.

Accordingly, Ines was provided with a lifestyle not unlike that of a noble lady. In other words, she didn’t need to lift a finger for most things.

“Honestly, it still feels a bit awkward. Not just the housework, but having others serve me—well… I’m not someone of high status like you, Duchess. It feels like I’m getting treatment that’s not meant for someone like me.”

“There’s no reason to think that way. You married a capable man. Enjoy it fully.”

At my words, Ines gave a shy smile.

Today, I had come to Alide Street to visit Ines. It had been quite a while since I last saw her, and I also had something I wanted to say.

Like Elodie, Ines could also become a target of Girard. I had already warned Jacques and instructed him to tighten security at their home.

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and looked at Ines as I asked, “How have you been lately? Everything alright?”

“Huh? Ah… yes.”

Ines’s reaction was oddly hesitant. I narrowed my eyes unconsciously.

“Don’t tell me some weirdo has shown up again. You know you have to be careful because of what happened before.”

Jacques hadn’t wanted to tell his wife about the Marcel Bache incident, but Ines had found out anyway when the police summoned her for questioning.

“No! Nothing like that, really.”

Ines waved her hands frantically, her eyes wide.

“Are you sure? You didn’t even realize someone was following you last time.”

“That’s true, but… I’ve been much more careful since then. These days, I even ask the maid to walk Titi for me, and I try not to go out unless I really have to.”

“Really? Good job.”

“Jacques worries so much. I keep telling him I’m fine, but he makes such a fuss… I guess after what happened, he’s anxious about leaving me alone. Lately, he’s even hired a personal bodyguard on top of the estate guards. They follow me even when I just step out for a moment. It’s honestly overwhelming—I don’t even want to go outside anymore.”

Ines sighed. I chuckled.

“So you’re bragging that your husband dotes on you, huh?”

“What? No, not at all. I swear, Duchess. Please believe me.”

Ines turned red and stammered.

“I’m just teasing. Anyway, you’re doing well, so just keep staying cautious. You never know when something might happen because of Jacques’s line of work. Got it?”

“Yes, Duchess. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good.”

With that, I reached for my utensils again, then suddenly tilted my head.

“Oh, right. Then why did you react so strangely when I asked if anything was going on?”

“Ah…”

Ines hesitated for a moment before glancing at me.

“Actually… I haven’t told Jacques yet, but… can you keep a secret?”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Well, the thing is… I think I might be pregnant.”