Chapter 247: Entering His Lair
Catherine walked toward Dorian with a forced smile on her face. He stood there, flanked by his men, trying to appear intimidating as always.
But unlike the last time, Catherine knew she was not alone. She was doing this for herself, and no one was expecting her to do it for their sake.
This was entirely her decision. Her purpose. And this time, she had people who supported her.
She wondered whether Timothy Rathbourne had accepted her suggestion. She had asked him to betray his family, but she had a feeling he would give in to her. After all, she had offered him something better.
She opened her phone once more. Still, there was no news she had been expecting. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes darkened. A moment later, however, she summoned a smile and continued walking toward Dorian.
Oddly, there was no fear in her heart, no hesitation—only focus. She understood perfectly well that she was walking into the devil’s lair, into the domain of a man who had not hesitated to try to kill her. But that no longer mattered.
She was going to be brave.
Dorian needed to be dealt with.
She stopped a couple of feet behind him. "So... here I am," she said, her painted lips pressed into a thin line.
Then her lips curved into a wide smile, one that never quite reached her eyes behind the sunglasses.
"Do you see it?" She held up her wrist. "It’s gone! The bracelet is gone! It felt like my blinders were off! I realized I had blocked you and... You must be thinking of me all the time. Just as I unblocked you, you called me!"
She spoke in an unnaturally chirpy tone. She had no intention of acting refined or elegant around him. She had created an entirely new persona for herself—one she hoped would deter Dorian.
"Only now do I feel like myself, Handsome." Lowering her sunglasses slightly, she tilted them and winked at him.
Dorian’s brows rose.
"I feel like I’m home!"
She even did an exaggerated dance she had only ever seen Sammy do, something Catherine herself had never once considered learning.
Dorian’s jaw slackened.
"Take me to our palace, My King," she said, winking once more before slipping her sunglasses back on.
Dorian turned, adjusting the buttons of his pinstriped suit jacket, and Catherine shamelessly hooked her arm through his.
"This isn’t the only good news I have. I was hoping for another piece of good news, but it’s getting delayed. Still, that’s the biggest gift for you, My King," she said.
"You seem... different," Dorian observed.
"I’m happy," Catherine said, leaning closer. "It’s been a while since I’ve been this happy."
Dorian stared at her. Snow had begun to fall, and Catherine tilted her head upward, removing her sunglasses completely.
"Do you feel like the heavens are blessing us?" she asked.
Dorian merely hummed, gulped, adjusted his suit again, and started walking toward the front. Catherine clung to his arm and walked beside him with a slight bounce in her steps.
Her lips curved when she noticed that he was walking at a pace deliberately too fast for her. Loosening her hold, she slowed her own pace.
There you are... prideful, unable to love... only knowing how to claim, never to offer...
His chauffeur opened the car door for her, and she slid inside. During the half-hour ride, she spoke endlessly about the weather.
Dorian leaned back and pretended to close his eyes, but that did not stop her. Catherine continued talking, occasionally nudging him and taking shameless advantage of his unwillingness to openly reject her.
She knew that if she wanted to stop him from touching her, she had to touch him first—and make him regret ever getting close to her.
Dorian eventually stopped responding to her altogether. He did not even bother humming in acknowledgment anymore and simply lowered his gaze to his phone, scrolling through it with apparent disinterest.
Catherine continued speaking as though nothing had changed, but she watched him carefully.
He was conflicted. Part of him still doubted her, while another part already regretted allowing her into the same car. There was always the possibility that he might suddenly snap and kill her.
So Catherine did the next best thing.
She pretended to fall asleep.
Even then, she remained alert, watching him through lowered lashes. Dorian merely scrolled through reels on his phone, expression unreadable.
Who would have thought that a tyrant from another lifetime could be just as addicted to a smartphone as everyone else?
His feed was filled with true crime documentaries, white-collar crime analyses, conspiracy theories, and legal discussions. Catherine found herself absurdly unsurprised.
Then something caught his attention.
He straightened slightly, leaning forward as he stared at the screen. An email.
"Katrina," he called, apparently unconcerned that she was supposedly asleep.
Catherine feigned a startled awakening and blinked at him.
"What is it?"
"I just got a message..." he said.
Instinctively, she looked toward his phone, but Dorian immediately turned the screen away. It was already too late. Catherine had caught a glimpse of the sender.
Fitzgerald Rathbourne.
"Maximilian is dead," Dorian said.
Catherine’s heart leapt.
Her plan had worked.
It had actually worked in the way she wanted to. Any other person announcing it to Dorian... he wouldn’t have believed it. But since it was Fitzgerald... Dorian believed him.
"I was wondering when his family would announce it," she said, allowing a small smirk to curve her lips. She’d act clueless, just what he believed her to be. "That was my gift for you. I can’t very well come to you empty-handed, can I?"
Dorian slowly raised a hand to his chin, deep in thought.
He had heard that Catherine had collapsed after Maximilian had been rushed to the hospital. He knew she had barely eaten or drunk anything for days afterward. He had assumed she was vulnerable, broken enough that she might eventually turn to him.
But now...
She seemed different.
Strange.
When she was quiet, she looked remarkably like the woman from their previous life. Regal. Composed. Obedient, yet somehow untouchable.
Almost unconsciously, he reached toward her cheek.
"I killed him," Catherine said softly, her smirk widening. "I killed him with my own hands."
Dorian’s hand froze.
"For killing my son," she added. His hand dropped.
This time, Catherine allowed him to see it... The hatred.
She did not hide it or soften it. She let him glimpse the fury buried deep within her heart, because that hatred had always belonged to him.
And of course, Dorian believed her.
"Thank you," she continued quietly. "Thank you, Dorian, for allowing me to be a part of avenging our son’s murder."
Dorian swallowed and leaned back against his seat.
"Anything for you, my queen," he said.
Catherine simply held back her scoff. Not even a twinge of guilt was on his face.
After a moment, he added, "I only wish he’d be cremated."
Catherine frowned.
That was an odd thing to say.
Then she remembered.
In their old world, cremation had been considered the cruelest fate imaginable. It was believed that those who were cremated could never find peace, their souls condemned to wander the underworld for eternity. Only criminals and traitors were burned. The worst offenders had been sentenced to die at the stake.
"Guess what," Catherine said, leaning closer with a sly smile. "I’ve already suggested to his mother that cremation was his final wish."
Her hands slowly curled into fists.
"Even his soul won’t find rest."
"Good," Dorian said.
His voice faltered.
Someone naïve might have mistaken it for grief.
Catherine was not naïve.
She knew Dorian too well. Whenever he sounded wounded, it was usually because something precious to him had been taken away.
"Back then..." he said quietly, his gaze fixed on nothing. "He didn’t even let me hold you after you died."
When he looked at her again, his eyes were dull and distant.
"He had burned your body. Turned you to ashes... and even corrupted your ashes by jumping in the fire himself... " His voice grew hoarse. "When I found you... I couldn’t even separate your ashes from his... That bracelet was all that was left..."
Catherine stared at him.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe.
Maximilian had done what?