CHAPTER 124: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR

Senna stood amidst the feathers and shattered glass, her chest heaving. Desperation clawed at her throat. She took a step toward Derek, her hands shaking.

"I sacrificed everything for you," Senna said. Her voice was a raw, trembling whisper that rose to a shout. "My youth! My freedom! I stayed in the shadows for years, waiting for you to look at me! I gave up everything!"

Derek stood still, his posture rigid. He looked at the woman he had once thought of as a friend, as a savior. Now, he only saw a stranger.

"You sacrificed everything?" Derek repeated. His voice was low and dangerous. He stepped over a pile of blackened curtain fabric.

"You poisoned yourself before my wedding," Derek said, ticking off her crimes. "You drank venom just to pull me away from the altar, to humiliate my wife and ruin my family’s reputation. Was that for me? Or for your own vanity?"

Senna opened her mouth to argue, but Derek continued, his voice rising slightly.

"You sowed discord with my grandmother," he said. "You whispered lies to her for years, isolating me, making her argue with me every time. You manipulated an old woman who never thought of hurting you."

He looked at the incense burner that still sat on the table, cold now, but the memory of the scent was fresh.

"And that night," Derek said, his eyes narrowing. "You used an aphrodisiac on me. You used dark incense from the West to drug me, to rob me of my will, to force me into your bed."

He stared at her with pure disgust.

"This," Derek asked, "is your sacrifice for me?"

Senna stared at him. The shame she should have felt didn’t come. Instead, a wave of bitter, twisted anger crashed over her. She had tried everything. She had debased herself. And still, he stood there, judging her.

She let out a sharp, hysterical laugh.

"Yes!" Senna shouted. "Yes! I did use aphrodisiacs! I drugged you until you could barely stand! I used every trick I knew!"

She took a step closer, her face twisting into a sneer.

"But even then," she spat. "Even with the drug in your veins... even with your mind fogged... you still wouldn’t touch me."

She pointed a finger at his chest.

"Derek Thompson," she hissed. "You are completely impotent."

The insult hung in the air, heavy and ugly.

Senna threw her head back and laughed. It was a cruel, mocking sound that echoed off the walls.

"The mighty Grand Duke," she jeered. "The Commander of the Thompson’s Army. The candidate for the Crown. Everyone fears you. Everyone respects you."

She leaned in, her eyes glittering with malice.

"But you are just a useless, impotent man. You can’t even perform with a woman who throws herself at you. No wonder you have no heir. No wonder you sleep alone."

Derek didn’t shout. He didn’t strike her. He simply closed his eyes.

He stood there in the silence, his face a mask of stone. He didn’t dignify her insult with a response. He absorbed it, letting her words bounce off his armor. But his hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a fist so tight his knuckles turned white.

Marissa watched from the doorway. She saw Derek close his eyes. She saw the pain and the weariness in his posture.

A fire ignited in her chest. It wasn’t the cold, calculating anger she usually felt. It was hot, protective fury. How dare this woman? How dare she attack his dignity after everything he had done for her?

Marissa stepped into the room. Her heels clicked sharply on the floorboards.

"Guards!" Marissa called out. Her voice was loud, authoritative, and brooked no argument.

Two of the household guards, who had been waiting in the hallway, rushed in immediately. They looked from the wreckage to the Grand Duchess.

Marissa pointed at Senna.

"Take her away," Marissa ordered. "Throw her on the street. Right now. No more of this nonsense."

The guards moved instantly. They grabbed Senna by the arms. They were not gentle.

"Get off me!" Senna shrieked, trying to twist away.

But their grip was strong. They began to drag her toward the door. Her feet slid across the floor, kicking up feathers and ash.

As she was being hauled past Marissa, Senna dug her heels in. She looked at Marissa with eyes full of venom.

"Marissa," Senna spat.

She grinned, a wild, unhinged expression.

"Don’t gloat either," Senna sneered. "You think you won? You married a useless man. A man who can’t want you. A man who can’t give you pleasure or satisfy your desires."

The guards pulled her harder, forcing her into the hallway.

"You are doomed!" Senna shouted back, her voice echoing. "You are doomed to be a living widow! You will grow old and cold in this big house, untouched and unloved!"

Marissa didn’t flinch at the words. Her expression remained icy. But as Senna passed, Marissa’s eyes fell on the heavy leather pouch dangling from Senna’s wrist—the severance pay Derek had given her.

"Stop," Marissa commanded.

The guards halted immediately. Senna stood there, panting, held between the two men.

Marissa walked up to Senna. She didn’t say a word. She simply reached out and snatched the coin pouch from Senna’s hand.

Senna’s eyes went wide.

"That’s mine!" Senna shrieked, trying to lunge for it. "He gave that to me! That is my money!"

Marissa ignored her. She opened the pouch calmly. The gold coins jingled softly. She reached in and took out a handful of large gold coins—about half the bag. She transferred them into her own pocket. Then, she pulled the strings of the pouch tight again.

She held the lighter pouch out to Senna.

"This," Marissa said, her voice cool and businesslike, "should cover the damages done."

She smiled.

"You destroyed property of the Thompson estate," Marissa explained. "You burned our curtains. You broke our porcelain. Did you think you could leave without paying for it?"

Senna stared at her, mouth agape. The pettiness, the absolute practicality of the move, stunned her into silence.

Marissa shoved the lighter pouch back into Senna’s hand.

"Take her away," Marissa said, turning her back.

The guards resumed their march. They dragged Senna down the hallway.

Senna looked at the pouch in her hand. Then she looked at Marissa’s retreating back. The absurdity of it all—the lost love, the failed arson, the confiscated coins—finally broke her mind.

She started to laugh.

It wasn’t a mocking laugh anymore. It was the laugh of a mad person. It was loud, high-pitched, and devoid of sanity.

"Ha! Hahaha! A living widow! A widow and a thief!" Senna screamed, laughing hysterically as she was hauled down the stairs and out the front door.

The sound of her laughter faded into the distance as the heavy front doors slammed shut, sealing the estate from the night.

Silence returned to the guest room.

Marissa stood in the center of the room. She took a deep breath, smoothing her skirts. She felt the weight of the coins in her pocket. It was a small victory, but a satisfying one.

She turned around.

Derek was still standing where he had been. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t opened his eyes during the entire exchange with the guards.

He looked tired. His shoulders were slumped. The military coat that usually made him look so broad and imposing now seemed to weigh him down.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

He didn’t look at Marissa. He didn’t look at the door where Senna had vanished.

He looked down at his hand. At the silver locket.

He stared at it with a strange intensity. He ran his thumb over the tarnished silver surface, tracing the engraving of the vines.

Marissa watched him. Her heart began to ache for him.