Between Destruction and Pleasure - Chapter 0

“Ouch…”

Catherine sank into the sofa and immediately kicked off one of her high-heeled shoes. It was beautiful, but it hadn’t fit her from the start.

Her swollen calves and blistered heels stung fiercely, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes from the pain.

Her expression might have seemed innocent, almost pitiable, but her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

She tried to massage her aching feet but soon gave up. She was simply too exhausted.

Pretending to be someone she wasn’t, wearing a stranger’s sharp expressions and cutting tone, had become second nature to her. But today, it felt especially draining.

“Haa…”

Catherine sprawled across the sofa, the rosy pink of her extravagant dress bunching and wrinkling carelessly as it rode up, exposing her pale legs to the chilly air. She didn’t bother adjusting it. She couldn’t muster the energy to lift a finger.

No one comes in here anyway, she thought.

As a princess, she’d been given a private lounge, but the space was far from fitting her title. It was small, secluded, and less opulent than the lounges of many high-ranking nobles.

The room was quiet, save for the faint strains of string music and lively chatter filtering through the door from the grand ballroom outside. The festivities were still in full swing.

Just a short rest… then I’ll go back out…

Click.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of the door unlocking.

“Who… Amy?”

She assumed it must be her maid—surely no one else would dare enter the lounge of a princess without knocking.

But someone had.

When no reply came, Catherine sat up slightly, her eyes narrowing.

“You…”

For a moment, she thought the man must have entered the wrong room by mistake, but the way he walked toward her, each step deliberate and unwavering, dispelled the notion.

It was Lucas Williams, the Duke.

His jet-black hair shimmered faintly, catching the sparse light in the dim room, and his piercingly handsome face seemed almost to glow.

Recognizing him instantly, Catherine quickly straightened her posture, slipping her haughty mask back into place for her lone audience member.

“And where do you think you are, barging in here?” she snapped, her voice sharp, though there was an unmistakable tremor at the edges.

Could he have found out?

Her heart raced as she fought to maintain her composure.

Lucas knelt down in front of her without a word, his large hands reaching out to grab her exposed leg. Startled, Catherine stiffened.

“What are you—”

He looked down at her blistered heel, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

“This, is it?”

“Ah!”

His fingers pressed firmly into her calf, massaging upward. The sensation was a mix of pain and relief, but the unexpected intimacy left her too flustered to enjoy it.

Catherine’s eyes caught the cobalt tie neatly knotted around his neck. Seizing it with a quick yank, she twisted her lips into a mocking smile.

“What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Only Catherine, the princess notorious for her wild behavior, would dare speak to Lucas Williams this way. Even the emperor tread carefully around him.

Conversely, Lucas was likely the only person who could grab the princess’s leg without fear of retribution.

Catherine tried to push his hand away, but his strong, vein-lined grip didn’t budge.

Their gazes locked midair, the tension between them as taut as the tie she was pulling.

“Let go! You’re just a dog in heat, aren’t you? Want to lick like one?”

She hurled the insult intentionally, hoping to provoke him, but Lucas only responded with a faint, inscrutable smile.

“Stay still,” he said, his voice polite but unyielding.

Ignoring her protests, his hands continued their slow, deliberate ascent, massaging as they w “The great Duke Lucas Williams, a depraved bastard? Who would’ve thought,” Catherine spat, her tone biting.

“Glad you’ve realized, Princess,” Lucas replied, his tone infuriatingly calm.

His demeanor remained unbothered, even as his hand, which had been gripping her leg, threatened to slide further beneath her skirt. Catherine flinched, her body tensing, and Lucas finally began to rise from the floor.

Now standing, their eye levels shifted.

“But this isn’t the first time, is it?” Lucas murmured, a slow smile curling at his lips.

Catherine’s heart sank. His words confirmed her fear—he had recognized her. He knew exactly who she was the night of the masquerade ball held at the social club Ballroom. He knew she was the woman he had shared that intimate night with.

But since when? she wondered. Did he know from the start? Or did he figure it out later?

Her crimson eyes trembled, but her glare burned with defiance. Lucas met her gaze, his own expression unreadable. He knelt on the sofa, his tall frame looming over her, forcing her to lean back. Before she knew it, she was lying against the cushions, his face lowering to the curve of her neck.

She froze as his breath warmed her skin, and the scent of her perfume mixed with the heat of his exhale.

“A familiar scent,” Lucas whispered, his voice low and gravelly.

“Get… away!” Catherine shoved at him, her strength paltry, but he relented just enough to back away slightly.

“These eyes, these lips… I know them well,” he continued, his confident tone making her composure waver further.

But Catherine wasn’t one to let herself be cornered so easily. Steeling herself, she shot back, “So what? What happened at the masquerade is off-limits. What are you going to do? Blackmail me?”

Lucas’s tongue slid across his lips, the gesture predatory and deliberate, like a beast savoring its prey.

“Blackmail? Perish the thought.”

His hand, resting just beneath the hem of her skirt, began a slow and deliberate ascent along her thigh.

“If you go any further, I’ll scream,” Catherine warned, her voice low and steady.

It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. Even if someone heard and came to investigate, the sight of a compromising position would do nothing but cement her reputation as the “wanton princess.” If anything, the rumors would worsen.

To her surprise, his hand paused midway. Catherine, still gripping his tie tightly, tried to release it, but his large hand covered hers, preventing her from letting go.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her brow furrowed.

“How,” he began, lowering himself back to one knee before her, “can I make you mine?”

The tone of his question and the way he gazed up at her—like a knight worshiping his lady—was almost disorienting.

Catherine looked down at him, her red eyes swirling with conflicting thoughts before she scoffed dismissively.

“How generous you sound, as if you could grant me anything I desire.”

“Name it,” Lucas said without hesitation.

“And why would you go this far? Was the night so satisfying? You’re surrounded by women desperate for your attention—why not pick one of them?”

“Because none of them have a lineage as pure as yours,” he replied bluntly. “I’m not into men, nor do I have the slightest interest in bedding the aging empress or emperor. And you’re the only one who can bear my child.”

Catherine froze, stunned not by the words themselves but by his casual delivery. He had just dismissed the emperor and empress as if they were nothing.

“What about Olivia? You know she’s fond of you,” Catherine countered with a sly smile.

“Prudish women aren’t my type,” Lucas said flatly.

His blunt dismissal made her chuckle despite herself.

“Lineage,” she mused. At least he was honest. Had he started spouting nonsense about love, she would’ve laughed in his face.

“I like you,” Lucas continued. “You’re fierce, pitiable, haughty, pathetic… and yet, beautiful.”

The tension between Catherine and Lucas reached a boiling point as he delicately toyed with the ends of her silvery hair, his demeanor unnervingly composed.

“You must think I’m easy prey,” Catherine hissed. “You’re just another bastard, aren’t you? Desperate for royal blood to boost your standing?”

“Hmm, that’s only a secondary concern,” Lucas replied smoothly, his tone maddeningly nonchalant. “Now, Princess, tell me your wish.”

Catherine abruptly yanked him closer, pulling him so near that their faces nearly touched. She stared intently into his dark pupils, searching for any crack in his calm exterior. But Lucas’s gaze remained steady, save for the faintest curve at the corners of his eyes.

Catherine inhaled deeply before leaning closer to whisper into his ear.

“Destroy this wretched imperial family. Burn the empire to the ground.”

She smirked wickedly, fully expecting even the unflappable Duke Lucas Williams to recoil in shock at her audacious demand. After all, what she had just uttered wasn’t a mere wish but an incitement to treason, an act punishable by death.

Yet, Lucas’s reaction was far from what she had anticipated.

“Is that all?”

He smiled—a genuine, radiant smile—as though her request had pleased him.

For the first time, it was Catherine who was caught off guard. Her crimson eyes narrowed as she asked sharply, “Did you even understand what I just said?”

“Of course, Catherine Bennett Linsward, Your Highness,” he replied smoothly, effortlessly removing her grip on his tie and bowing over her hand. His lips brushed lightly against her knuckles in a gesture so polished it seemed rehearsed.

Lucas rose slowly, his movements elegant as he once again knelt on the sofa, towering over her.

“Lucas—!”

“Hearing you speak my name is sweet enough to ruin me,” he said, cutting her off.

“Wait—!”

Lucas didn’t release her hand. Instead, his lips began to trail over her slender fingers, his warm tongue flicking between them.

The sensation was maddeningly ticklish, and Catherine tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was unyielding. Worse, his other hand ventured boldly beneath her skirt, moving with deliberate purpose.

She tensed as his fingers brushed against the thin fabric of her undergarments, teasing the sensitive skin beneath.

“Relax, Your Highness,” Lucas murmured, his voice dropping to a low growl. “If it’s your wish, I’ll tear this empire apart. But…”

His fingers tugged the fabric aside, delving further into the intimate space he had claimed.

“…you’ll grant me this: any time, anywhere, you’ll be mine.”

Catherine gasped sharply, her body instinctively jerking as his touch deepened. She tried to close her legs, but his firm knee between her thighs left her powerless.

Lucas leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he added, “Do we have a deal, my princess?”

Without waiting for an answer, he began to unbuckle his belt.