Chapter 2
A Long-Standing Ill Fate
“No! I’ll confirm with my own eyes who this shameless woman is who sent this damn letter. How dare she…!”
The seductive letter that had caused all this trouble was clenched tightly in the woman’s hand, crumpled beyond shape. The folds were worn out, as if it had been opened and read dozens of times.
Violetta had already read it as well.
It was an audacious challenge from the other woman, claiming she had fallen in love with the fiancé and demanding the engagement be broken off. As if that weren’t enough, it even provoked them to come to Amor Park on the weekend afternoon if they didn’t believe it.
Silence should have been the answer. Yet despite Violetta’s attempts to stop her, the client insisted on responding to the provocation.
Haah… A worried sigh slipped through Violetta’s lips.
Unlike consultations, her job ended with gathering proof of a lover’s infidelity. It was when the skills she had honed over years—witnessing countless betrayals—truly shone.
What came after was entirely up to the client.
Some chose to stay even after confirming the affair.
Some sought revenge with an affair of their own.
Some grabbed the other woman by the hair.
Some quietly broke up and plotted revenge afterward.
Everyone handled betrayal differently.
Having seen—or even experienced—most of these, Violetta knew the best option was simply to end things cleanly the moment the betrayal was confirmed.
She wished her client would do the same.
“My lady…”
Violetta wrapped her hand around the letter—the very thing that had practically delivered the evidence of infidelity itself. Beneath it, the client’s hand was still trembling.
Hope that it wasn’t true. Fear of the impending breakup. Anger toward the partner. And in the end, the self-blame that somehow it was all her fault.
All those emotions must have been tangled together.
It reminded Violetta too much of her own past, unsettling her.
Trying to calm the young lady, Violetta looked around for something to change the subject. Her eyes landed on a bundle of newspapers she had casually tossed beside her—one she had bought from a paperboy before boarding the carriage.
“Have you seen this, Miss Sierra?”
Raising her voice slightly, Violetta scanned the front page headlines until she found something that might spark the young lady’s interest—society gossip.
“The eccentric of high society who has stirred yet another scandal… Princess Erika.”
…Of all things to pick.
Violetta’s eyes narrowed slightly.
It was someone she knew all too well. No—perhaps an old grudge would be more accurate.
She quickly composed her darkening expression and looked back at her client.
The young lady, who had been dabbing her tears, showed interest as if she had never been crying. Then, seeing the bold print in the newspaper, she gasped.
“My goodness, the Princess again! And she’s already engaged!”
She gently tugged at the edge of the newspaper in Violetta’s hand, as if asking to read it together, and began reading aloud.
“According to reports, her latest scandal involves the second son of a certain viscount’s family, and last night…”
Her head tilted, then suddenly snapped up toward Violetta.
“Oh my! They entered a hotel together—just the two of them!”
The newspaper was now fully in her hands. Her voice, filled with excitement—whether curiosity or secondhand outrage—continued quickly.
“The imperial family dismissed the rumors, saying they are ‘just friends,’ and…”
“……”
Friends.
The familiar yet unpleasant word made Violetta frown.
“The Princess’s fiancé, Duke Otero, responded indifferently, saying ‘it’s something the Princess will handle herself!’ I’m getting angry just hearing this!”
The young lady crumpled the newspaper in frustration.
Then, after a moment, her gaze lingered on the Duke’s illustration printed in the paper. As if reconsidering, she pouted and added:
“Well… Duke Otero is infamous too. He’s known for being extraordinarily handsome…”
Violetta had heard such rumors many times from her clients.
They said he possessed a beauty that seemed to glow both day and night, proving his noble bloodline. Yet he never appeared in high society. Only the awe of those lucky enough to have seen him spread as rumors.
And people, by nature, are drawn to mirages they can never quite grasp. Women even kept portraits of the Duke pieced together from various testimonies.
“No matter how impressive he is, he’s still a womanizer.”
Even more absurdly, while obvious affairs were condemned, well-hidden ones were quietly overlooked by society. His secret indulgence in women somehow escaped moral criticism.
“Ah! Could it be? Maybe the Princess is cheating out of revenge?!”
The young lady gasped, covering her mouth. She seemed to partly understand the Princess.
But Violetta’s eyes turned cold—almost icy.
“No. That’s not it. And it wouldn’t be right either.”
Revenge? An affair for revenge?
Impossible.
The Princess’s affairs were purely for amusement. There was no desperate love or burning vengeance in them—just entertainment.
And among those “entertainments,” four of them had been Violetta’s former lovers.
She knew it all too well.
“…Thinking of what I’ve been through…”
Her pale violet eyes trembled slightly. She barely swallowed her anger before speaking.
“What if the person she’s having an affair with already has a partner? Then all it does is pass your pain onto someone else. Or…”
“……”
“They’re just alike.”
The atmosphere turned cold. The young lady gave an awkward laugh.
“Come on, she wouldn’t have an affair with someone already taken…”
Violetta said nothing.
The young lady cleared her throat nervously.
“Ahem… Anyway, I can’t understand either the Princess or the Duke. They’ve been engaged for years without marrying—or breaking it off.”
Lowering her voice, she whispered:
“And it’s not even a loveless political marriage. They say the Princess tracks down all of the Duke’s women and ruins them.”
But her expression soon dimmed.
“…Still, I envy her power.”
Knock, knock.
Just then, the coachman knocked to signal they had arrived at the park.
Looking at her client, Violetta let out a quiet breath.
“We’ll handle things our own way. Let’s go.”
With that, she smiled gently in reassurance and stepped out of the carriage.
But unlike her calm smile, the sky above was darkening with heavy clouds.
“Why… are you here…?”
Violetta was speechless.
At the lakeside hill in the park, she had spotted her client’s lover entangled with another woman.
But beyond them—she saw another pair.
Very familiar faces.
They seemed to have just finished boating, stepping onto the dock while clinging to each other, swaying slightly.
As they approached and finally noticed her, the man turned pale and hurried over.
“Vi-Vi, I can explain everything. Okay?”
The man calling her by her nickname was Dante Lopez—the second son of the Lopez viscount family…
…and Violetta’s lover.
Memories of her past lovers flooded her mind.
The count’s son who broke their engagement and fled overseas after confessing an affair.
Baron Terence, who had been two-timing her.
The painter Demion Burbray, whose excessive gifts had been guilt, not love.
Viscount Finn, who shamelessly asked her to tolerate his affair as a birthday present.
The worst part?
All four of their affair partners had been Princess Erika.
They had all claimed to love her for who she was, despite her fallen noble status. Each time, she had taken the risk of opening her heart.
And each time, it ended in betrayal.
The excuse was always the same:
“The Princess offered to invest in me. I had no choice but to meet her. We’re just friends—nothing more.”
A nauseating sense of déjà vu crashed over her.
Violetta slowly turned her head, like a stiff puppet.
And there she was.
The blonde woman she never wanted to be entangled with again.
“Princess Erika…”
The Princess smiled at her—a chilling, familiar smile, like a nightmare that would follow her forever.
Suppressing her surging emotions, Violetta clenched her fists tightly until her knuckles turned white.
Then it hit her.
The newspaper article.
“The second son of a viscount… last night… a hotel.”
Her boiling blood went cold.
“So it was you.”
He had said he would be away until the weekend for business in his territory.
She should have suspected.
Foolishly… again.
“Is this… your ‘territory’?”
Violetta asked, looking at Dante—soon to be her fifth ex-lover.
Dante fumbled, caught between her and the Princess.
“I-I swear, it’s a misunderstanding! Just today, just once—”
“Hmm? Really a misunderstanding? That’s disappointing.”
The Princess’s mocking voice cut in.
She didn’t stop there. While staring at Violetta, she slipped her hand into Dante’s loosened shirt.
Her dress was indecent—slipping off one shoulder, revealing half her chest. A faint smell of alcohol lingered.
Was she truly a Princess… or a courtesan?
Dante, weak as ever, seemed completely captivated.
There was no reason to stay.
“Breakups… aren’t scary anymore. Just think of yourself.”
Repeating this like a mantra, Violetta suppressed her nausea.
She needed to find her client and leave quickly.
After offering the bare minimum courtesy, she turned—
“Unbelievable. You’re still doing that pathetic counseling?”
Erika’s mocking voice pierced her back.
“Is it because that’s all you’re worth? Or because you fall short? Maybe that’s why your parents died, hm, Violetta?”
