CHAPTER 141: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND FORTY ONE

High above the hall, Derek stood by the window, his hands pressed against the glass. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The air whooshed out of his lungs in a shaky exhale.

Down below, the scene was over. Lord Baron was gone. The dancers were safe. Marissa stood in the center like a Victor.

"Oh!" Derek exclaimed. He clapped his hands together loudly, like a child watching a puppet show. He turned to Liam, his eyes wide and shining with a fake, drunken pride. "Did you see that? She hit him! She actually hit a nobleman with a fan! She is so fierce!"

He laughed. It was a giddy, relieved sound that bordered on hysterical. He grabbed the wine bottle and poured more into his glass, splashing some on the table.

"My wife is scary, isn’t she?" Derek asked Liam, grinning like a fool. "I am terrified of her!"

Prince Liam didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. He stood perfectly still by the balcony, his hands clasped behind his straight back. He stared down at Marissa.

He saw her composure. He saw how she didn’t tremble after the fight. He saw the way she spoke to the crowd, turning them from an angry mob into a respectful audience. He saw strength.

He looked back at Derek, who was giggling and drinking more wine, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Yes," Liam said softly. His voice was cold, like a stone dropping into a deep well. "She is."

Liam’s eyes narrowed. He looked from the chaotic, messy man in the room to the organized, powerful woman below.

"The husband is a fool," Liam thought, his mind working like a sharp blade. "He is weak. He hides behind his pleasures. But the wife... the wife is dangerous. She has a spine of steel."

He looked at Derek again. He saw a man who was happy to be useless.

Liam spoke without taking his eyes off Marissa.

"Your wife is truly remarkable," Liam said. "Bold and visionary. Most noblewomen would faint at the sight of a brawl. She ended it."

Liam turned slowly to face his cousin.

"You are lucky, cousin," Liam said coldly. "That you have a wife who can fight your battles for you. Without her, I wonder if the Thompson name would still have any teeth."

Derek beamed. He puffed out his chest, accepting the backhanded compliment as if it were a medal.

"I am!" Derek declared. "I am the luckiest man in the world! She does all the hard work, and I get to enjoy the peace."

Derek raised his glass high.

"To strong women!" Derek toasted. "May they always save us!"

He drank the wine in one large gulp.

Liam didn’t drink. He didn’t even touch his glass. He turned back to the balcony. He watched as Marissa moved among the dancers. He saw her touch a girl’s shoulder gently. He saw her curtsy to the crowd. She was pacifying them, charming them. She was a natural leader.

A dark interest sparked in Liam’s mind. A woman like that was wasted on a fool like Derek. A woman like that could be useful. Or, she could be a threat.

"The Mid-Autumn Festival is tomorrow," Liam said suddenly.

Derek froze for a split second, his glass halfway to the table. He quickly recovered, setting the glass down with a clumsy clink.

"Ah, the festival," Derek said, waving a hand. "Loud music. Too many people. I usually prefer to stay home with a bottle."

"Will you be attending the festival?" Liam asked. It wasn’t really a question. It was a command wrapped in politeness.

Derek looked at Liam. He saw the trap. If he said no, it would look suspicious. The Grand Duke always attended state functions.

"Yes," Derek replied in a bored tone, slumping in his chair. "I have to. Grandmother insists. She says I need to show my face or people will forget I exist."

Liam nodded. He looked back down where Marissa was now walking away with Ian.

"I hope you take your wife along," Liam said.

Derek’s stomach dropped. This was what he feared. Liam had noticed her.

"She deserves a little outing," Liam continued, his voice smooth. "She works hard cleaning up your messes. She deserves to be seen by the court. By me."

Liam turned and looked Derek dead in the eye.

"Bring her. Even if it is with her irresponsible husband."

Derek felt a cold sweat break out on his back. Liam wanted to study her. He wanted to test her, just as he had tested Derek with the dagger.

Derek forced a tight smile onto his face.

"You jest, Your Highness," Derek said with a nervous chuckle. "She hates parties. She calls them boring."

"Bring her," Liam repeated.

He didn’t wait for an answer. He adjusted his cuffs and walked toward the door.

"I will see you there, tomorrow. cousin."

Liam turned and left the room.

Derek stood up immediately. The drunken slouch vanished. He bowed deeply, holding the pose until he was sure Liam was out of sight, out of the building, and gone.

He straightened up. His face was pale. The smile was gone.

"Dammit," Derek whispered.

He had played the fool to protect himself. But in doing so, he had pushed Marissa into the spotlight. He had made her the strong one, the interesting one. And now, the wolf had noticed her.

He didn’t bother with the wine bottle. He ran out of the room, down the back stairs, and out to the waiting carriage.

Inside the carriage, Marissa sat quietly. The adrenaline of the confrontation was fading, leaving her hands trembling slightly.

She had done it. She had secured the Golden Swan. She had established her authority. But her heart was still racing.

The door opened.

Derek climbed in. He didn’t have his usual swagger. He didn’t have the playful smile he had worn earlier. He looked... haunted.

He sat down opposite her. The carriage started to move immediately, Ian having given the order.

Marissa looked at him. She saw the tension in his jaw. She saw the way his hands were clenched into fists on his knees.

"What’s wrong?" She asked.

She leaned forward, her brow furrowed.

"Did the Prince say something?" she asked. "Did he suspect you?"

Silence.

Marissa thought he was angry. " I’m sorry I didn’t go home. I saw a man harassing a young girl and I couldn’t just leave her there." She explained.

But Derek didn’t say anything. He looked at her. He looked at her face, the face he had tried to protect, the face that was now a target because of his own charade.

He couldn’t sit there. He couldn’t sit across from her like a stranger.

He moved.

In one swift motion, he crossed the small space of the carriage. He didn’t sit next to her. He pulled her.

"Your Grace?" Marissa gasped.

He pulled her into a tight hug.

It wasn’t a romantic hug. It wasn’t the seductive embrace from the bedroom. It was a desperate, crushing hold. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, holding her as if he were trying to shield her from a blow.

Marissa froze. She was pinned against his chest. She could feel his heart hammering against her own. It was beating fast, erratic with fear.

"Your Grace..." she said, her voice muffled as her head laid in his chest.

She was confused. Was he drunk? Was he acting?

She tried to push him away. Her hands came up to his shoulders to shove him back.

"Your Grace, let go," she started to say. "This is inappropriate..."

Before she could push him away, he spoke.

"I was so worried," Derek whispered.

His voice was raw. It cracked.

Marissa stopped pushing. Her hands hovered over his shoulders.

"Worried?" she asked softly. "About what? I handled Lord Baron. I am fine."

"Not about Baron," Derek murmured into her hair. "About Liam."

He tightened his arms around her.

"He saw you," Derek said. "He watched you down there. He saw how strong you are. He saw how smart you are."

Derek lifted his head slightly, looking into her eyes. His expression was full of pain and regret.

"I played the fool too well," Derek admitted. "I made myself look weak, so he looked for strength elsewhere. And he found you."

He touched her cheek with a shaking hand.

"He wants you at the festival," Derek said. "He wants to meet you. He wants to... examine you."

Marissa felt a chill run down her spine. She knew Prince Liam by reputation. He was cold. He was ruthless. If he took an interest in someone, it was usually to find their use or their weakness.

"I see," Marissa said quietly.

She understood now. Derek wasn’t hugging her for pleasure. He was hugging her because he was terrified for her.

She looked at him. She saw the guilt in his eyes. He blamed himself.

She slowly lowered her hands. She didn’t push him away. instead, her hands just stayed at her side.

"It is fine," Marissa said, her voice calm and steady. "Let him look. I am not afraid of a Prince."

"You should be," Derek said. "He is not like Carlos. He is not like Senna. He is a monster."

He rested his forehead against hers.

"I tried to keep you out of it," he whispered. "I tried to keep you in the dark. But I failed."

Marissa felt his vulnerability. It was a rare, precious thing.

"You didn’t fail," she said.

She hesitated. Then, she moved her hand up and stroked the back of his head, a comforting gesture she used to use on Ryan.

"We are partners, aren’t we?" she asked. "We signed a contract. Partners protect each other."

Derek closed his eyes. Her touch was soothing. It quieted the panic in his mind.

"Please," Derek said, his voice thick with emotion. "Please don’t push me away."

He sounded so lonely. So tired of carrying the weight of his vengeance alone.

"Just let me stay like this," he whispered. "For a little while. Just until we get home."

Marissa sighed. She knew she should maintain boundaries. She knew they were supposed to divorce in a year.

But his arms were warm. And he was shaking.

She relaxed against him. She let her head rest on his shoulder again.

"Okay," Marissa whispered. "Just for a little while."