My Husband Caught Me Having an Affair - Chapter 168

The Kingdom of Borcia, which shared a border with the Alveni Empire.

Marlon was hiding in a residence near the Borcian imperial palace.

After hastily fleeing Alveni, Marlon had sought refuge with the Borcian royal family.

Borcia had historically maintained hostile relations with Alveni. So he had assumed they wouldn’t refuse his request for asylum.

As the head of one of Alveni’s two ducal houses, Marlon had expected they would find some use for him.

He hadn’t been wrong. Borcia had provided him with a sizable estate and many attendants.

Marlon had plenty of information about Alveni to sell. If he bargained well enough, there would be no problem living out the rest of his life in peace.

But that wasn’t enough for him.

If he didn’t repay Ethan Dumont and his wife for what they had done to him, then living would mean nothing.

However, realistically, it was impossible for now. Having lost all his foundations, it would take considerable time to regain enough power to strike back.

‘Still, that doesn’t mean I can give up.’

Eventually, he would claw his way back up. He would rise to the top again, overthrow Dumont, and rule as the true master. Marlon never doubted that for a second.

He stayed in his study until late into the night and didn’t return to his bedroom until after 2 a.m.

Just as he closed the door and set the lamp on the nightstand, he realized someone else was in the room.

In a flash, countless thoughts raced through his mind.

It was too late to call for the guards. An assassin would move much faster. Would he have to face them alone? Could he? He had a pistol hidden under his pillow, but wasn’t confident he could fire it in time.

That’s when the intruder spoke.

“You look well.”

“…Nicolas?”

Marlon shone the lamp in the direction of the voice. The face that emerged in the light was unmistakably his illegitimate son, Nicolas.

His tension dissipated, and his knees buckled slightly. Marlon staggered and sat on the edge of the bed.

“How did you know I was here?”

Instead of answering, Nicolas replied with a different question.

“I came because there’s something I want to ask you, Father.”

Marlon raised an eyebrow slightly. Nicolas had never been allowed to call him ‘father.’

But that didn’t matter anymore. This wasn’t Alveni, or the Girard estate. And no one was around to overhear.

“What is it?”

“Why did you kill my mother?”

Marlon’s expression hardened faintly. “What are you saying all of a sudden? Your mother died in an acciden—”

“You ordered her death and made it look like an accident. Don’t bother denying it. I heard everything from Gabriel Blanchard.”

“……”

Marlon silently looked at Nicolas. Nicolas wore a completely blank expression. His eyes held no emotion.

“…There was no other way if I wanted to protect you.”

At those words, Nicolas let out a scoff. “To protect me? Or yourself?”

“If I had brought your mother with me, it would’ve been obvious you were my son. You know as well as I do how many enemies I had. Once they found out about you, they wouldn’t have left you alone.”

“See? It was for your own sake, not mine,” Nicolas said coldly.

“Think what you want. But I had no other choice. If I could go back, I’d make the same decision. I’m sure Catherine would have done the same, for your sake—”

Before he could finish, Nicolas closed the distance in an instant and tackled Marlon onto the bed, pressing a dagger to his throat.

“Don’t you dare say my mother’s name. Not with the mouth that ordered her death.” Nicolas growled, grinding his teeth.

“……”

The blade grazed his neck, leaving a sharp sting.

Marlon thought to himself in silence. That had been a loud shout. Perhaps the guards heard it and would come running. If he could just stall for a little longer—

“…What is it you want to hear from me?”

“Just once is enough. I want to hear the truth from you.”

“About what?”

After a pause, Nicolas asked, “Did you ever truly think of me as your son?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Regardless of what I think, the fact remains—you are my son by blood.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I’m asking if you ever cherished me… if you ever cared for me as a son.”

“Of course I did. If I hadn’t, I would never have kept you by my side while hiding your identity.”

Marlon spoke without hesitation. It wasn’t entirely a lie. In terms of being someone he couldn’t let others discover—and in terms of possibly being useful someday—Nicolas certainly had his own importance to Marlon.

“…Did you ever love me?” Nicolas asked, spitting out each word.

“……”

Marlon was momentarily speechless.

It wasn’t for any other reason. He simply hadn’t imagined Nicolas would ask such a foolish question.

It made him wonder if the boy was truly his blood, despite having verified it multiple times in the past.

“…I don’t know anything about love. Not with you, not even with Thierry, my legitimate son. But that doesn’t mean I felt no attachment to you. You know the kind of man I am.”

Marlon looked up at Nicolas as he spoke. It was his way of saying, ‘If I hadn’t cared, I would’ve killed you with your mother.’

But he couldn’t bring himself to say those words aloud. Nicolas only needed to apply a little more pressure for the dagger to slit his throat.

“……”

Nicolas glared at him in silence, teeth clenched.

Apparently, the guards hadn’t noticed anything. If they had, they would have entered by now.

Marlon clicked his tongue inwardly. Incompetents. If he had hired the guards himself, this would never have happened.

At that moment, Nicolas slowly stepped back from Marlon. He got off the bed and turned his back.

“I can see you’re plotting something useless again. Just give up. Let it all go.”

Nicolas’s voice was low and rough.

Marlon quietly sat up. Slowly reaching toward the pillow where his pistol was hidden, he spoke.

“…Give up? What are you talking about?”

From what Nicolas just said, it almost sounded like he was letting him go.

But he couldn’t be sure. Now that Nicolas knew the truth about his mother’s death, the grudge would never disappear. Even if he spared Marlon for now, there was no telling when he might change his mind.

The fact that he had discovered Marlon’s location and slipped past the guards to get here—he was too dangerous. He couldn’t be allowed to leave alive.

“The House of Girard is finished. The title, the lands—everything’s been stripped away. You should be grateful to be alive and live as if you’re already dead.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Father! Please, just—!”

Nicolas shouted, whipping around to face him. Marlon flinched, his fingertips just brushing the pillow.

“…I am Marlon Girard. The Girard. No matter where I am, no matter the circumstances, that fact will never change.”

Of everything he had said to Nicolas today, that was the truest reflection of Marlon’s heart. Nicolas clenched his teeth again.

Just then—

“My lord? Are you alright?”

A guard’s voice came from outside the bedroom. Nicolas turned toward the door. Now.

This was his only chance.

Marlon drew the pistol from under the pillow and aimed it at the back of Nicolas’s head. At this distance, he couldn’t possibly miss. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

Click.

Instead of a gunshot, only an empty sound echoed.

Click. Click.

Marlon pulled the trigger again and again in denial, but only empty chambers rotated.

Nicolas stared at him with an expression of blank resignation.

“…Before you arrived, I already searched the entire room. Standard protocol from the intelligence division. Basic training.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his hand, and opened his fist. Bullets clattered to the floor.

“……”

Marlon pressed his lips tightly together, glaring at Nicolas.

What should he do? What should he say? There had to be something—something that could alert the guard without provoking Nicolas further—

Drip. A tear fell from Nicolas’s eye.

The next instant, the dagger in his hand pierced Marlon’s left chest.

***

“…Marlon Girard is dead?” I asked in shock.

Ethan nodded. “Just yesterday, his body arrived from the Borcian royal family. They sent the body along with the killer in custody.”

“Who was it?”

“Nicolas Sadun.”

“……”

I was at a loss for words, eyes wide.

“They said Nicolas infiltrated Marlon’s hideout, killed him, and surrendered at the scene without resistance.”

“…Are you sure Marlon is really dead?”

“Yes. I confirmed it with my own eyes. It was unmistakably Marlon Girard,” Ethan said quietly.