Killing Your Sweet Breath - Chapter 44

Chapter 22.2

The wind whistled eerily through the cracks in the window. The evening air, having shed the day’s warmth, was as cold as the tension between the two men.

“What’s this about?”

Van asked Ian, crossing his arms over his chest. He waited to see how he would proceed, though deep down, all he wanted to do was to kill him on the spot.

Winter would mourn him, but that grief would be temporary. At least Van wouldn’t have to endure the painful pounding of her conflicted heart any longer.

Still, killing Ian now might lead to God-knows-what kind of reckless actions from a lovestruck fool like him.

Now was the time to minimize every possible risk.

“Terminate the contract.”

An all-too-predictable request.

Van unfolded his arms and leaned his forearms against the table, adjusting in his seat. The towering man before him, with striking blue eyes, stared down at him with jealousy and rage.

How amusing.

Back when Ian had first approached him to join in on his revenge, he had looked at Van as if he were his savior. And now, to see him so consumed by something as trivial as love—it was laughable.

“As far as I know, the contract has plenty of time left.”

“Name your price. I’ll pay whatever it takes.”

“Is that so?”

Crash! The chair flew backward as Van shot to his feet. In the blink of an eye, his sword was in hand, the sharp tip hovering dangerously close to Ian’s throat.

“Even if it costs you your life?”

“If that’s what it takes, then go ahead. It’s not like Her Ladyship would care if I died anyway.”

Ian didn’t waver, despite Van’s sarcastic tone.

“You really know nothing about Winter, do you?”

The truth was, nothing would please Van more than to eliminate Ian right here and now.

It would rid him of any unforeseen complications, and he’d be free of the constant nuisance that clung to Winter.

Killing two birds with one stone.

But the reason Van hesitated was, again, because of Winter.

Though she seemed distant and cold now, she was still full of compassion.

No matter how much Ian tried to stand in Van’s way, Winter would understand that he did it all for her. She wouldn’t be indifferent to his death.

On the contrary, Ian’s death might solidify his presence in her heart.

And for Winter to waver because of that… well, that was the last thing Van wanted.

The fool standing before him didn’t have a clue.

“I’m planning to marry her soon. At least until then, I’d like to avoid any unnecessary complications.”

Besides, he still needed to figure out who Ian was working with.

According to Sheeran, there weren’t any changes in Ian’s movements, so how had he spread such precise rumors so quickly? It didn’t add up.

There had to be someone else involved.

Either one of the emperor’s supporters or someone like Lillian, who sought to sabotage their marriage.

“Starting today, someone will be watching over you. I’m telling you this in hopes that you’ll think twice before doing anything reckless. We’ve had some rapport, so I’d prefer to let you walk away in one piece.”

“When will you terminate the contract, then? Surely, you don’t intend to drag this out forever? From what I know of you, Your Grace, you’d sooner dispose of someone than keep them around like this.”

“Once Winter and I pass God’s Trial, I’ll let you go.”

By the time that happened, all of the emperor’s suspicions would be erased, and it wouldn’t matter what Ian did or said.

His words would hold no power over God’s Trial.

Keeping him alive was certainly a risk, but Van refused to destroy Winter by killing him.

If the bastard tried anything reckless again, Van was confident he could track him down by any means necessary.

“However, it would be wise for you to forget about returning to the capital. I’ve had enough of you circling around what’s mine like some vulture.”

With a flick of his wrist, Van’s sword nicked Ian’s neck.

“Be grateful to your merciful master. And by that, I mean Winter, not me.”

A thin line of bright red blood trickled down.

“Because next time, this sword will sever your head.”