Eugene stood by the window, watching the Viscountess climb into her carriage. His gaze remained fixed on Leah following behind her.
The moment Leah's small frame disappeared into the carriage and the door closed, Eugene's fingers unconsciously gripped the windowsill. He squeezed so hard that the wood creaked.
Until the carriage left the estate and vanished completely from view, Eugene stood frozen in place, motionless.
"Brother."
Hector, who had just returned to the drawing room after seeing the women off, called out to Eugene cautiously. His brother's quiet demeanor seemed ominous.
"Count Montclair."
Eugene spoke slowly. His voice was low, but cold as ice.
"Tell me about him."
Hector sighed softly and perched on the arm of the sofa.
"There are rumors he's involved in a silver mine investment scam. No proof, though. He's wealthy, and since he's engaged to Lady Brennan, he seems to have connections with Viscount Albussel's family."
Hector paused.
"And... he's been married twice. Both wives died in accidents."
"Accidents?"
Eugene turned to look at his brother.
"There's also talk that they were beaten to death. I don't know the details for certain."
Eugene's blue eyes flashed cold. The air grew heavy.
"Montclair lives in France, you said?"
"Yeah."
"We're going to France."
"What? Now?"
Hector grabbed his brother's arm in surprise.
"Yes. I need to meet this so-called Count."
"Why you? This is Lady Brennan's business, not ours."
Eugene's brow furrowed.
"She saved my life. Leah has endured unfair treatment all this time to protect her disabled sister. You want me to let her marry a man like that?"
Hector pressed his fingers to his forehead, troubled. He understood why his brother couldn't ignore Leah's situation. But interfering in human affairs wasn't something they, as vampires, should be doing.
"What will you do in France?"
"Confirm if the rumors are true. If they are, I'll stop the wedding."
"How? The Viscountess seems determined."
"I'll make it so Montclair can't marry."
Hector stared at his brother, his brow creasing slightly.
"You're not planning to kill Montclair, are you?"
"There are many ways to stop a wedding without killing anyone."
Hector took a deep breath and exhaled.
"We can't risk exposing ourselves, you know that?"
"Don't worry. That won't happen."
At Eugene's unwavering response, Hector nodded.
"Alright. Let's go meet Montclair then."
As Hector reached for the drawing room door, Eugene brushed past him and left. Hector followed lightly behind.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled golden, and tobacco smoke hung thick in the air—a room reeking of wealth and decadence. This was Club de la Rouge, the secret paradise of Parisian aristocrats.
When the door opened, laughter stopped abruptly. All eyes turned toward the entrance.
"Isn't that Marquess Alberesque?"
Men recognized Hector and rushed over eagerly. When they noticed Eugene standing beside him, they bowed even deeper in surprise. Duke Eugene, making his first appearance in society. At the gambling table, Lucien's eyes gleamed.
"Ah, Marquess Hector!"
The boisterous chatter cut off. Everyone watched Lucien approach the twins with slightly disapproving expressions.
Lucien, dressed in an ornate gold-buttoned vest and flashing jeweled rings, wore a bright smile.
"It's been ages! To think you've come all the way to Paris!"
Hector deliberately smiled warmly and shook hands.
"Count Montclair. It's been a while."
"And who might this be?"
Lucien pretended not to know Eugene, though he clearly did.
"My brother, Duke Eugene Alberesque."
"Ah, the famous Duke! What an honor this is."
Lucien extended his hand theatrically. But Eugene only stared at him intently. Lucien flinched when their eyes met. Perfect features, refined posture, and... an inhuman atmosphere. That cold gaze alternating between his hand and face was strangely unsettling.
"Ahem!"
As Lucien tried to withdraw his hand, a large gloved hand seized it.
"Count Montclair. A pleasure to meet you."
At that deep, low voice, a shiver ran through Lucien's body. It felt as if his very soul was being pierced. His shoulders trembled.
Lucien quickly pulled his hand free and led them to a sofa. Waiters brought drinks and set the table.
"So what brings the Alberesque brothers here?"
"We heard such talk about Club de la Rouge."
Hector raised his glass.
"Ah, our reputation has reached Romania, it seems."
Lucien smiled arrogantly, proud of belonging to such an exclusive club.
"Not just anyone can enter here."
"Your influence is impressive, Count."
At Hector's compliment, Lucien beamed.
"Business has been going well lately. In southern France, there's an excellent silver mine—"
"Count!"
Suddenly, a red-faced man staggered toward them. The middle-aged Baron was clearly drunk, his eyes unfocused.
"Count, I invested so long ago—where's my dividend?"
The atmosphere turned frigid. People began glancing over. Lucien stood with a gentle smile.
"Baron René, you seem to have had too much. Let's discuss this elsewhere—"
"No! I'll speak here!"
The Baron shouted.
"My 20,000 francs! Over a year and I haven't received a single penny!"
Eugene watched silently, observing how Lucien would respond.
"Baron, mine operations don't yield profits quickly. Sometimes it takes years."
"That's not what you told me! You said profits would come quickly!"
When the Baron grabbed Lucien's collar and yelled, men rushed over to restrain him. Lucien shook off the Baron's hand. His smile vanished completely.
"Baron, I never forced you to invest. The decision to invest was yours."
Lucien's voice turned ice-cold. His eyes changed in an instant. Something ruthless showed beneath the gentleman's mask.
"You've had too much to drink. Please go home."
The men dragged the Baron out. He was hauled away screaming about fraud.
After the Baron left, Lucien clicked his tongue and gestured to a waiter.
"People like that..."
He muttered low. For a moment, his expression was cold and arrogant. But as soon as he looked at Eugene and Hector, his pleasant face returned.
"I apologize for that unseemly display."
Eugene didn't miss the change. For those few seconds, what showed on Lucien's face was not that of a gentleman.
"Not at all. The Baron must have misunderstood."
Hector said.
"It's natural to feel anxious when investments don't show immediate returns."
Lucien nodded bitterly. Eugene spoke slowly.
"Count, you mentioned frequenting the club. Won't your wife be disappointed?"
Lucien's expression froze momentarily before melting into sorrow.
"...Unfortunately, my wife has passed away."
"How?"
Eugene asked.
"An accident. It happened when I wasn't home."
Eugene clicked his tongue.
"How tragic."
Hector interjected carefully.
"Pardon me, but... I heard rumors you were married before. Is that true?"
Lucien's expression hardened.
"...Yes. My first wife also died in an accident."
"Twice..."
Eugene stared directly at Lucien.
"The first fell down the stairs, the second was a carriage accident. Both..."
Lucien picked up his glass.
"Both when I wasn't home."
Eugene watched Lucien look down at his glass with a sorrowful expression. Lies. He could hear Lucien's heart beating irregularly.
"How truly tragic."
Eugene offered his glass with a sympathetic expression.
"I've touched on a painful subject. My apologies."
"Not at all. It's been a year..."
Lucien clinked glasses with relief.
"Actually, I'm getting remarried."
"To whom?"
Eugene asked tensely.
"The niece of Viscount Albussel in Romania."
Eugene felt his fitted vest suddenly suffocating. He undid a button.
"Albussel—I know that noble family."
"Ah, the Viscount in your territory."
Lucien brightened.
"Do you know Lady Brennan?"
"Yes. A beautiful lady."
"Indeed."
Satisfaction spread across Lucien's face. But something greedy lurked in his eyes.
"Very refined, obedient... the perfect wife."
"Isn't eighteen still... rather young?"
Eugene asked sharply. Something flickered in Lucien's gaze.
"She'll be nineteen next month."
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips.
"That age is... most beautiful. Pure, unspoiled, obedient..."
He paused, swirling his glass.
"And most of all... the ideal age for training."
Eugene's fingers clenched around his glass. The pressure made the glass creak. Hector glanced anxiously at his brother's hand. A little more force and it would shatter.
The meaning behind "the ideal age for training" was all too clear.
Hector rushed to interject.
"Wow, marrying such a young lady! You're quite remarkable, Count."
Lucien's lips curved upward.
"Haha, you're too kind. Taking a young wife is... a great joy for any man."
He narrowed his eyes as if imagining Leah, licking his lips. Eugene's jaw clenched tight. Every look, word, and expression from Lucien made his thoughts painfully obvious.
"Please do invite us to the wedding."
Hector forced a smile.
"Oh, if you attend, the honor would be all mine."
While Lucien and Hector chatted pleasantly, Eugene quietly observed. How he smiled, how he lied, how he wore his mask.
'That wedding will never happen, Count.'
Eugene stood. Lucien and Hector looked up in surprise.
"It's been a long journey. I'm rather tired. I should head to the hotel."
"Oh, already?"
Lucien stood disappointedly. Eugene looked at the Count.
"Count."
Eugene's low, cold voice called to him.
"Yes, Duke?"
"When coincidences repeat, they cease to be coincidences."
"Pardon?"
Lucien questioned the seemingly random remark, then saw those blue eyes gleaming cold as ice.
"You're an intelligent man, Count. I trust you won't repeat the same... mistake."
Lucien felt something threatening in that gaze. No, not a threat... a warning. A chill ran down his spine.
"What do you..."
Lucien muttered to himself, staring blankly as Eugene left the club. Hector followed.
There was something in the Duke's tone... as if he knew something.
"Could he...?"
His heart pounded strangely. Duke Eugene's eyes kept replaying in his mind. As if... seeing through all his secrets.
'No.'
Lucien shook his head.
"Ahem!"
Lucien cleared his throat as if to shake off his anxiety and sat on the sofa. Still feeling the lingering unease, he stared at the door the twins had exited.
Outside the club, Hector asked.
"So? What did you think of the Count?"
"Exactly what you're thinking."
Understanding the meaning in Eugene's curt tone, Hector scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Lucien was definitely a shady character.
He was clearly making money through fraud, and if he married Leah, the chances of him being a good husband seemed slim.
His brother must have felt the same unease.
"I know the Count's a bad guy, but I don't see how we can stop the wedding."
"I will stop it."
"Brother, it seems the Count and Viscount have already agreed. But how will you stop it?"
"..."
Eugene walked on silently.
"Brother! How exactly will you stop it?"
Eugene stopped. In the darkness, his blue eyes glowed cold.
"Before he can even touch Leah... I'll end it."
Hearing the determination in his brother's voice, Hector asked no more questions. The two brothers disappeared into the darkness.
Shortly after they vanished, the club door slowly opened.
A man stepped outside. Dressed in a black coat with his hat pulled low, his face remained hidden even under the gaslight. Yet his pale skin and shadow-like presence were overwhelming.
He gazed at the darkness where the brothers had disappeared. As if reading their every movement, his lips curved slowly upward.
"The Alberesque brothers..."
His voice was low and smooth, but something dangerous lurked beneath. Gaslight swept across his face. For a moment, his eyes flashed red before fading.
"Coming to me of their own accord... how interesting."
The man adjusted his hat with gloved hands and walked in the opposite direction from where Eugene and Hector had vanished. His footsteps made no sound. Like a shadow, he melted into the darkness and disappeared.
Only laughter and music from the club drifted through the empty streets, swallowed by the darkness.
Chapter 11: Behind the Mask