I Become the Villain's Bride - Chapter 47

Chapter 47

In his distant memories, Wilfred Crowford was not much different from who he was now.

After killing all his siblings and ascending to the position of the family head, Wilfred ordered his trusted aide, Jade, to choose a fiancée for him. The conditions for this marriage of convenience were simple.

“I need an ordinary woman.”

A striking appearance would bring trouble, and a powerful family background would invite interference. He needed a woman who wouldn’t cause any problems but wouldn’t bring shame to the Crowford name either.

The wife that was brought to him under these conditions was a timid woman, so scared that she couldn’t even look him in the eye properly.

“I will do my best to be a good wife so that I don’t bring shame to the Crowford name.”

“Can’t you even speak properly?”

“…I’m sorry.”

She had accepted this absurd marriage in exchange for Wilfred resolving her family’s debts.

Having paid a hefty price to bring her into his household, they quickly fulfilled their marital duties.

“I’ve never done this before, so please…”

“Be quiet.”

Like an emotionless ritual, their first encounter as husband and wife was devoid of any passion. 

Enduring the pain of her first time, she didn’t dare make a sound as she silently cried, fearful that her sobs might wake him. Despite the evident terror on her face, she covered her mouth with her hand, desperately trying to suppress any sound.

He was aware of everything but chose to pretend otherwise.

“…I’m sorry.”

Over time, the servants began to treat her poorly, seeing her as weak and easy to mistreat. Despite the repeated offenses, she never complained to him, continuing to fulfill her duties as a wife without protest.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

Though he often clicked his tongue, thinking her a foolish woman who couldn’t even engage in pillow talk, he couldn’t bear to see her so downtrodden. At the very least, he maintained proper decorum in public.

His only way of expressing affection was through gifts. He brought up the most expensive jewels in the capital and handed them to her. When he did, she asked him,

“What do you like the most?”

Without much thought, he picked up a pair of diamond earrings and handed them to her, as they were closest at hand.

To him, it was just that—a casual gesture. But she, always sentimental, attached too much meaning to even the smallest things.

“Just this is enough for me. The others are too much.”

“You think this is too much?” 

Her response was incomprehensible to him. What he saw as a trivial gesture, she treated with an almost reverent gratitude.

What was so special about it? She clutched the box tightly, smiling as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

“I’ll wear these to the next party. I promise I’ll take good care of them and never lose them.”

At the time, he didn’t understand the significance behind her words, the way she smiled as she said it was the first time she truly owned something of her own.

Always overshadowed by her accomplished sisters, she had been the black sheep, perpetually insecure. Yet now, she held onto that small box of earrings like it was a sacred treasure, unable to hide her joy.

Though not as stunning as her famous sister, who was hailed as one of the beauties of the century, there was something about her smile that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

He had always thought of her as a plain, insignificant woman. But it was around that time that she started putting in unnecessary effort.

“The Lady of Crowdford is becoming more beautiful by the day.”

He didn’t like the way she looked that day at the ball, more adorned and radiant than ever before.

Like a child seeking approval, she shyly smiled and held his hand tightly, asking hesitantly,

“So, how do I look?”

Her dress, vibrant as a garden in bloom, the way her hair was elegantly swept back, and the diamond earrings that glinted subtly behind it all—today, even those who usually mocked her for being plain couldn’t help but praise her.

“It’s strange. It doesn’t suit you.”

It was petty jealousy that fueled his harsh words. As soon as his displeasure was apparent, her confidence crumbled, and she looked down at the ground, defeated.

“I’m sorry. I overstepped…”

Why was she always apologizing?

He grabbed her hand and led her away, annoyed at her sudden submissiveness.

“It’s just that I don’t like others looking at you.”

He took her to a secluded lounge, where no one else could see, and selfishly kept her beauty all to himself.

Looking back, he realized how manipulative he had been.

Unlike his wife, who was clumsy in her efforts, he instinctively knew how to read her heart.

This woman loves me. So she won’t refuse me anything.

As he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, he murmured in a languid voice,

“The earrings suit you.”

“Really?”

No matter how many harsh words he threw at her or how poorly he treated her, she would always forget everything with just one kind word from him, smiling shyly as if nothing else mattered.

Looking back, he might have enjoyed seeing her constantly trying to gauge his mood, completely at his mercy.

He had been a tyrant, toying with her emotions without a second thought.

“Wait, just…”

She was so weak, she could barely walk, yet she couldn’t even muster the courage to ask him to hold her hand.

“I can walk. I just need you to hold my hand, that’s all…”

“Stop making a fuss and stay still.”

She was as fragile as a child left unsupervised by a river, which only irritated him further. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms, and she, flustered, couldn’t help but blush as she smiled up at him.

“At this rate, we’ll have a child soon.”

“A child.”

At that moment, as she smiled so innocently at him, clarity returned to him like a cold splash of water.

He didn’t want children; the thought of it repelled him, yet he kept it to himself.

He wanted to keep her sweet smile all to himself.

So, he never revealed his true feelings.

* * *

My father chose countless women to create children with the best genes.

When I first heard my father’s will, I couldn’t believe my ears.

To kill off your own siblings and seize the family by proving yourself as the strongest—it was an order no animal would follow, let alone a human. But what difference would it make if I walked away, claiming disinterest, when the game had already turned into a mad scramble?

Betrayals and conspiracies were rampant, pulling many into their snares.

Even Vino, the youngest uncle and husband of my aunt Rashita, died trying to save my life. Unable to simply die, I picked up the sword and, in the end, became the monster my father had always wanted.

My father’s desire was singular—to continue the Crowford line with even more superior blood and bring prosperity to the family.

In what might have been an act of defiance, I brought a woman of no particular value to be the lady of Crowford, as if to mock my father’s will.

“…I don’t need children.”

Perhaps I wanted to see my father, who had always demanded the best, writhing in his grave. But at some point, those thoughts began to feel less important. How could a woman, who struggled even to accept herself, possibly bear a child?

“What kind of medicine are you taking?”

“A headache pill.”

I can say with certainty that it wasn’t love—just stubbornness.

She was supposed to be someone I wouldn’t grow attached to, but if things continued like this, everything would go according to my father’s plan, and that’s what I couldn’t stand.

Without telling anyone, I secretly took medicine to prevent her from getting pregnant. Freesia, blissfully unaware, nestled in my arms, dreaming of a happy future.

“I like daughters. But I know the Senate seems to prefer sons.”

“Is that so?”

“What about you?”

Did we really need children? I believed that by showering her with gifts and showing her how much I wanted her every night, she would understand my feelings.

“My lady, the embroidery is finished!”

“My lady, which trees shall we plant in the garden?”

“My lady, would you please try the new madeleines?”

Even those who initially shunned her eventually started to follow her.

This house, once so cold and lifeless, began to warm up after she arrived.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was too good for the Crowford name, tarnished as it was with infamy.

“This isn’t right, Master.”

The only person who knew I was deliberately preventing us from having children was the head maid, Ada.

Always on my side, she had started to feel pity for Freesia and began to bring up uncomfortable topics.

“Today, she clung to the doctor, even shedding tears, asking why she couldn’t conceive despite all her efforts every night.”

“Stop doing unnecessary things.”

As our marriage passed its fourth year without any news of a child, the Senate’s dissatisfaction grew louder. But I remained unperturbed, dismissing all their demands.

As long as she bloomed beautifully in my garden, that was enough.

It really should have been enough. But she couldn’t let go of her perfect student act.

“The doctor says there’s nothing wrong with me, but I just don’t understand why…”

“There’s no need to rush. We’re both still young.”

“But I…”

If I had listened to the words she swallowed back with hesitation, perhaps things might have turned out differently.

After winning the casino license, I had to stay up nearly every night, only returning home at dawn.

The casino was filled with smoke, and my hair was soaked in its scent. Not wanting her to smell it, I would shower the moment I returned home.

“…It must be hard for you, going through all that for your beloved wife every night. Our Duke must be in quite a bind.”

“I can’t help it. It’s work.”

“How unfortunate.”

I sensed the dealer’s seductive gaze, but such attention was nothing new to me.

I didn’t realize there was a lipstick stain on my shirt, placed there in secret, until I got home and began my usual routine of undressing and stepping into the hot shower.

As I dried my wet hair and walked out, I saw Freesia standing silently outside the bathroom, unable to sleep.

“What did I do wrong?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I…”

She stared at the lipstick stain on my shirt, her face crumbling as if her world had just fallen apart.

By the time I realized something was wrong, it was already too late.

But I was innocent. As long as I told her it wasn’t what it seemed, everything would be fine.

Freesia’s reaction was unmistakable. Her face, set with a mix of fury and despair, was the last thing Wilfred had expected.

“There’s no way it’s what you’re thinking.”

“What do you think I’m thinking?”

Her voice trembled with anger, a rare sight indeed. As she pushed away his reaching hands, he saw something clenched tightly in her small grip.

The pills he had been taking to prevent pregnancy.

Her small hand struck him with all her might.

“You’re the worst.”

He grabbed her fleeing hand roughly, pulling her into a fierce kiss, her tears mingling with his own. Holding her tightly, he tried to justify his actions, turning his emotions into something rational.

The false accusations against him, the effort to save that child—all of it was a result of his own sins.

Whether or not the remnants of that distant dream were truly his, many things were mirroring that memory.

He decided not to question whether the dream was real or not.

“I can’t make the same mistake twice.”

“You shouldn’t water the flower pot so much…”

Her unexpected sleep talk caused an involuntary laugh to escape Wilfred.

He held his distressed wife close, despite her stubborn resistance.