If you Don't Love Me, I Will Die

Chapter 51



Chapter 51

“What are you doing!”

With Edward’s shout, a cold silence lingered in the dining room.

Amidst the suffocating silence, his rough breath brushed lightly against Ania’s hair.

“Your neck...”

Edward brushed Ania’s neck lightly, feigning a cold expression.

Blood was dripping down.

“What does my neck have to do with anything?”

Edward grabbed her by the throat, and only then did she realize the searing pain.

It felt like it was burning.

“What the hell were you trying to do?”

His eyes glared with anger.

Ania smiled faintly as she looked into those burning eyes.

It was a charming gaze.

As she gazed into those blazing eyes, she thought she wouldn’t mind the pain in her neck no matter what.

She was more annoyed that the wound was on her neck instead of her cheek.

From that anger, Ania felt love.

Her heart swelled.

Yet, she also felt a strange annoyance toward the man who wouldn’t express his love unless she went to such lengths.

Would the day ever come when words of love flowed from his dishonest lips?

If she acted like this, pretending to be in love, and then he lost interest, it would be a big problem in its own right.

But what Ania needed right now was immediate love.

If she didn’t confirm that the man loved her, she would be in so much pain that she couldn’t even breathe.

“If I don’t go this far, you wouldn’t even look at me.”

At Ania’s words, which came out like a breath, Edward’s expression hardened.

He bit his lower lip and then snapped, his voice trembling.@@@@

“Lorendel!”

As he shouted, Lorendel, who had been waiting outside the restaurant, approached with a stern expression and bowed her head.

“There’s a wound on her neck. Treat it and place her in the innermost room. Remove all sharp objects and keep an eye on her. Don’t let her move freely.”

“Yes... I will do as you say.”

Lorendel’s hand lightly wrapped around Ania’s back.

“Let’s go, My Lady.”

“You don’t have to call me that anymore. I’m not the lady of the Brontë estate.”

“...For now, let’s go.”

With a hand that had now soaked with blood from the handkerchief, Lorendel led Ania out.

Edward looked at the scattered blood around the floor and walls before returning to his seat at the table.

He picked up a fork to bite into the steak from the shattered plate but then slammed the fork into the table.

His appetite was truly gone.

***

The Brontë family mansion. It had been over a week since Valentine Brontë’s room had been firmly closed.

“I will abandon the Brontë name.”

And with that, he slowly left Valentine’s room, smiling faintly.

The day the Brontë family would be in his hands was not far away.

***

“You mustn’t move. You need to rest as much as possible... and apply this ointment twice a day on her.”

“Thank you.”

“Then, I shall take my leave.”

Watching Lorendel bid farewell with a bow and the departing elderly physician, Ania felt trapped in a daze.

Her throat felt hot and burning.

She didn’t know if it was because of the wound or because of what had just happened.

However, Edward’s eyes flickered before her like a ghostly apparition, so it must have been because of him.

“My Lady...”

Laundel, who had seen off the physician, returned and called out to Ania.

“Now that I’m no longer a noble, just call me Ania.”

“But I couldn’t possibly...”

“Just do it.”

The laughter disappeared from Ania’s eyes. Meeting her cold gaze, Lorendel felt a sense of dread and replied.

“Alright then... Ania. Please rest and take it easy.”

Watching Lorendel leave as if fleeing, Ania glanced at his retreating figure until she heard the sound of the door closing. She lightly brushed her neck as the tip of the bandage grazed the scalding wound, causing a sharp, tingling pain.

“It hurts.”

As the pain gradually subsided, she touched it again. Although the pain felt like a stabbing sensation at first, it dulled over time as she grew accustomed to it.

Ania chuckled softly.

Whenever the stinging pain arose, Edward’s image would come to mind.

The sight of him rushing heroically to save her just before she was about to push the knife into her own throat.

“Was I really going to die?”

In the hazy fragments of memory, Ania groped for her recollections.

Holding the knife to her throat, intending to stab herself.

She couldn’t even discern if it was her own will.

Was it simply to gain Edward’s attention?

But there was no need to dwell on it. Ania had realized something.

She could capture that man’s heart by using her life as a bargaining chip.

Even though she felt a sense of relief knowing she could capture Edward’s affection in such a way, Ania also felt a bitter feeling rising within her heart.

It was an indescribable, dark, and viscous emotion.

It was almost like an obsession, yet it was close to love.

It seemed like despair, yet it was close to hope.

After pondering for a while, Ania finally identified the name of that emotion.

However, after finding it, she couldn’t help but feel that it would have been better if she hadn’t found it at all...

It was a compassion towards her having to risk her life to gain someone’s love.

The bitter emotion that surged within her heart...

It was a humiliating compassion towards herself.

Ania chuckled softly.

She couldn’t even understand herself, wanting that man’s love even while feeling compassion for herself.


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