Odalisque - Chapter 108

Even after Charles left, Dimus continued to stare at the medicine container for a long time.

He had stopped using it after he began seriously collecting nude artworks. Looking at the nude paintings to calm himself had seemed like a far more moderate approach than sleeping under the influence of the medication.

But now, they were useless. All the nude artworks he had gathered in the basement had become nothing more than worthless trash.

“My lord, the Malte family has presented another negotiation proposal.”

A sudden voice snapped Dimus back to reality. Adolf was standing before him.

When had he come in? Adolf wasn’t the type to enter Dimus’ office without permission, so Dimus must have subconsciously granted him entry. But he didn’t remember doing so.

Pressing his temples, Dimus slumped into his chair.

“The main points are…”

“It was hasty.”

“…Pardon?”

“I killed him too hastily.”

Adolf’s face showed confusion at Dimus’ words, clearly not understanding his meaning. Dimus, after rubbing his face dry, muttered in a dry tone, “Instead of burning the painting, I should have had it completed.”

Adolf looked at Dimus, bewildered. After some contemplation, he asked cautiously,

“Are you referring to Brad?”

“Was that his name?”

What did the name matter? What mattered was that the man had painted Liv’s nude.

“Only three pieces—far too few.”

Two of them were from behind, and only one had half her face. Now that the living Liv was gone, even a painting of her face would have been better than nothing. It would have been far more effective than this useless medication.

If he had spared Brad, maybe he could have painted a similar likeness of Liv from memory.

Perhaps it would have been better to lock him up rather than kill him. What Dimus needed now wasn’t an artist with artistic talent, but an artist who knew Liv’s face.

Once he caught her, he’d have plenty of portraits painted. They wouldn’t have to be formal portraits—just many, as many as possible. Enough to hang anywhere his eyes might land.

It had been a mistake not to even make a simple locket. Having her so close had made it seem unnecessary. But that wasn’t Dimus’ fault.

“The model is right here in front of you, not in the painting.”

It was Liv who had said that. She had said it while asking him to take the paintings down.

“I want you to look at me, the real me, not the painting.”

If she wanted him to look at her and not a painting, then she should have stayed in front of him.

“I’m not a trophy. Not some expensive statue meant to be displayed. I’m a person.”

Back then, seeing her cry had made him so angry. But now, even that crying face was something he wished he could see before him. Even if it made him furious, he’d welcome it if only he could see her again.

With only the image of Liv in his mind, there was no way to resolve his emotions, whatever they were.

“We’re doing our best to find her.”

At Adolf’s low words, Dimus only responded with a cynical laugh.

That night, the effect of the medication he hadn’t taken in a long time was better than expected. For once, Dimus went to bed without drinking.

Smooth, pale arms wrapped around his neck.

The slender waist was thin enough to fit within the circle of one arm, but the curve beneath it was ample, like a perfectly sculpted porcelain figure.

When she, sitting astride his thigh, rested her head on his shoulder, her voluminous auburn hair spilled down. As he ran his hand through her cascading hair, a low chuckle came from the nape of her neck. The hand clasped around his neck trailed down his solid chest.

His abs were already taut with tension. As her long, delicate fingers traced the ridges of his scars and muscles, his thighs tensed and his breathing quickened.

He felt an overwhelming urge to merge their bodies then and there, but oddly, his limbs felt too heavy to move as he wanted. All he could do was comb his fingers through her hair and trail his fingertips down her back.

In the meantime, her wandering hand touched between his legs, making him unconsciously hold his breath.

His body was already accustomed to pleasure, ready for the sensations that would soon drown his mind in bliss. Anticipation pooled in his mouth.

But her hand never touched the hardened length, leaving him in even greater frustration as he felt abandoned. He leaned down, brushing his lips against her ear.

He wanted her to touch him more, to press their bodies together, to let him plunge into her warmth, to squeeze his swollen tip against her narrow, moist inner walls.

His tongue traced along the curve of her ear before lightly biting her earlobe. She gasped, her body jerking slightly.

Her soft, round breasts pressed against his chest, the hardened nipples brushing against his skin.

She was clearly aroused. The pink nape of her neck peeked out between her hair, her body twisting in response to rising pleasure.

The wetness soaking his thigh was her love juice, and the breathy moans escaping her lips were her heated breaths.

And yet, that was it. He couldn’t do anything beyond that.

The frustration was maddening. Unable to hold back his irritation, he bit down harder on her neck, leaving a red mark.

At that moment, his heavy limbs felt lighter, and he immediately pushed himself up.

He grabbed her frail body and pinned her beneath him. She couldn’t resist, trapped beneath his large frame.

Just as he forcefully spread her legs, faint cracks began to form on her skin. The cracks spread across her body like dry winter branches. Her white, marble-like body began to fracture.

Startled, his blue eyes instinctively looked at her face.

The face he thought would be flushed with pleasure was pale, streaked with tears he hadn’t noticed before. Her green eyes, which once looked at him as if he were her savior, were lifeless, and her lips, slightly parted, were chapped like those of a sick person.

The cracks continued from her neck to her cheeks and forehead.

As her lips moved slightly, her body shattered into white, sharp fragments in his arms.

At the same time, he felt as though something had struck him, and he opened his eyes with a start.

“Hah…!”

Taking a short, gasping breath, Dimus opened his eyes to see the dark, cold bedroom and let out a long sigh.

Sweeping his bangs aside, he found his palm damp with sweat. His lower half was wet and aching—an unmistakable sign of arousal.

Dimus let out a cold, mirthless laugh. It was all ridiculous and absurd.

But the most absurd of all was the pathetic feeling of longing for Liv Rodaise, who didn’t even speak in his dreams.

How laughable.

***

The moment she first set foot in Adelinde, Liv had a sense that she would quite like it here.

The city was charming and peaceful. The red-roofed streets were neat and orderly, with flowerbeds decorating every window, adding warmth and freshness to the city’s atmosphere.

The exhausting journey to get here had been worth it. Corida, too, seemed pleased with the view of the new city.

After quickly securing a room at an inn, Liv began exploring the city. Her first priority was finding the local apothecary and confirming the availability of the new medicine.

“The supply of the new medicine is limited, so you’ll need to make a reservation to purchase it.”

Thankfully, the apothecary in Adelinde didn’t seem to require proof of identity for reservations. It wasn’t out of kindness—more likely, it was because there were no influential upper-class families in the area.

For Liv, it was fortunate. However, when they mentioned that proof of identity was required to make a reservation, she had no choice but to hold off for now.

She still hadn’t acquired a fake ID.

Throughout their journey here, Liv had confirmed that she wasn’t wanted. She hadn’t found any wanted posters of herself anywhere, and eventually, she had even dared to travel by train. Thanks to that, they reached Adelinde faster than she had expected.

For some reason, Jacques hadn’t reported her. Even if he had, it seemed there hadn’t been a major search for her. In Adelinde, there might not even be a need to hide her identity.

‘But…’

Still, an inexplicable sense of unease weighed heavily on her heart. Something she couldn’t quite name…

No, in fact, she knew what it was. She knew exactly what was causing her anxiety.

As she walked away from the apothecary and down the street, Liv suddenly lifted her gaze. Ahead, she saw a young boy selling newspapers, shouting at the top of his lungs in front of a quaint public flowerbed.