Even the Devil Regrets it - Chapter 69

It was because it’s rare to meet such distinguished figures at banquets, people eagerly swarmed around the Grand Duke and Duchess of Ortis, all hoping for a moment of conversation.
In no time, Braeden and Juliana were surrounded by a crowd.

Count Barnett, watching the scene, grew increasingly bitter. He clenched his jaw.
Who does she think gave her the right to hold her head so high? How ungrateful.

Seething inwardly, he continued to down strong liquor.

Later, once the crowd had dispersed and Braeden and Juliana were briefly apart, Count Barnett seized the chance.
He quickly pushed through the remaining guests and approached her.

“It has been far too long, Juliana,” he said, twisting his lips into a forced smile.

Juliana ignored the chill running down her spine and greeted him politely.

“I see you here, Father.”

Her words may have sounded affectionate, but the conversation was anything but warm.
If they truly had a close relationship, it would have been impossible not to know they were attending the same event.

“Why have you not contacted me? You never replied to my letters. Why? Tell me why.”

The letters from House Barnett had been dressed up in kind phrases and formal courtesies, but they were thinly veiled threats.
You must never forget the favor of being raised. Remember that we are in the same boat. Do you think the Grand Duke will keep you by his side if he learns where you came from?

Juliana understood the underlying message all too well.

“I am sorry. I have been busy,” she answered as calmly as possible, even though she knew it would only provoke him further.

“Busy? Are you saying you were too busy to write a single letter?”
Count Barnett ground his teeth, lowering his voice with effort. He could not risk making a scene.

“You speak as if you know everything I have been through,” Juliana said quietly.

Her composed tone only fueled his rage.
Even if she had bowed her head and begged, his anger might not have subsided. But seeing her behave as though she were truly a Grand Duchess sent his temper spiraling.

“You have gotten arrogant after living comfortably, haven’t you?”

She needs to be taught a lesson.
Count Barnett’s bloodshot eyes narrowed as he grabbed Juliana’s wrist roughly.

Juliana had been dragged away like this since childhood, beaten under the excuse of discipline. She knew exactly what he intended.
He stank of alcohol, but even in his drunken state, he was calculating enough to avoid attention. It disgusted her.

The bruises from childhood may have faded from her skin, but they remained etched in her spirit.
She hated everything about this moment. Still, she considered something.
What if I let him hit me? Maybe then I could accuse him.

As a child, Juliana Barnett had no one to protect her.
But now, as Juliana Ortis, the Grand Duchess, she could hold him accountable.

“A gentleman should know better than to grab a lady like that.”

Braeden’s voice cut in coldly between them.

With a calm expression, he reached out and twisted Count Barnett’s wrist away from Juliana.

“Aaah…”

The strength in Braeden’s grip made Count Barnett’s vision flash white. He immediately began massaging his wrist, now red with pressure.
Juliana remained expressionless, while Count Barnett clutched at his arm, flustered and dramatic. The contrast between them was striking.

“Are you alright?”
Braeden gently checked Juliana’s wrist. His brow furrowed as if he felt the pain in her place.
She, on the other hand, showed no reaction at all, as if she could not feel pain anymore.

“I was only trying to discipline my disrespectful daughter. Grand Duke, please overlook it,” Count Barnett muttered, still unaware of how serious the situation had become.

Braeden’s eyes burned with restrained fury.

“She is not a disrespectful daughter. She is my wife and the Grand Duchess of the Camellia Empire. She is not someone you can lay hands on.”

His voice was low and calm, but it was cold enough to send a chill through the air.

Despite the clear warning, Count Barnett, still drunk and humiliated, clung to his wounded pride.

“Still, disciplining one’s daughter is a father’s right…”

“Robert, that is enough.”

Countess Barnett, realizing how grave the situation had become, rushed over and grabbed his arm.

“What do you mean, enough? What have I done wrong?”
His face flushed red with anger and confusion.

Braeden clenched his teeth and turned to Countess Barnett, the only one who seemed to understand.

“Take him somewhere away from me. If you do not, I cannot promise what I might do.”

Countess Barnett’s face turned pale. Without another word, she quickly pushed her husband away from the scene.

Meanwhile, Cheryl had noticed the commotion and discreetly instructed the servants to divert the guests’ attention. She approached the Grand Duke and Duchess and spoke softly.

“Please allow me to guide you to a room where you can rest. Follow me, Your Graces.”

She was still in shock from Braeden’s reaction.
It had been a long time since she had seen the Archdemon Belial truly enraged.
What would have happened if Countess Barnett had not stepped in?

If she had hesitated even a moment longer, Count Barnett might have lost his life right there in the banquet hall.

Just imagining a murder taking place at her own event made Cheryl shudder involuntarily.

How much effort had it taken to build this reputation, only for it to nearly collapse in an instant?
Belial was acting in a way that did nothing to serve his demon hood.

Although offering them a private room was, on the surface, a courtesy from the host, the true reason was clear. Cheryl wanted to separate the dangerously unpredictable Belial from the other guests.

Without revealing that intention, she kept her polished smile as she spoke to the couple.

“You’re welcome to spend the night here. If you need anything, simply pull the call cord.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Marchioness,” Juliana replied politely.

Braeden, on the other hand, silently cast a cold look that made it clear he wished Cheryl would leave immediately.

Cheryl gave a faint smile and turned away. Once she was gone, only Braeden and Juliana remained in the room.

The luxurious suite, reserved for honored guests, was filled with ornate furniture and decorations that reflected Cheryl’s personal taste.

Braeden clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he glanced around. He gently guided Juliana to sit on the sofa, then sat down across from her.

A long silence passed.

Juliana, unsettled by the strange tension in the air, hesitated before speaking.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Has it always been like this? You couldn’t even show that you were hurt? You just let it happen?”

Braeden’s voice was sharp, but as he realized he might be pushing her too hard, he ran a hand across his face in frustration.

Juliana knew he spoke out of concern, but the sorrow she had held back for so long began to rise in her throat.

Did he think she had remained silent because she did not know how to cry? That she had accepted it because she wanted to?

She had no way out.

She had no power, no wealth. As the falsely titled daughter of a ruined noble house, all she could do was endure.

It was only after dying once that she had been able to begin her revenge. What could he possibly know about that?

Juliana fought back tears with everything she had.

“You probably see me as pathetic. I know how I must look.”

At those words, Braeden’s expression twisted with pain.

“That’s not what I meant. Why didn’t you tell me? You could have asked for help. If you wanted me to break their necks, I would have done it.”

His words cut deeply, because she knew he meant them out of genuine care. That only made it harder to bear.

But in the end, they were going to part ways in two years. How could she drag him into the filth of her revenge just for her own sake?

“I don’t want your hands stained because of me. This is my revenge. Mine alone.”

At last, the tears she had held back began to fall. They dropped heavily onto her skirt, leaving dark marks on the fabric.

Braeden froze as if someone had struck him.

How far was she planning to hold herself above the filth? What was the point of pride when standing in the mud?

If she truly wanted to bring someone down into ruin, she had to be even more ruthless than them.

But no matter how he looked at her, she didn’t seem suited for vengeance.
Her tears only made him more certain of that.

Letting out a slow breath, Braeden stood and walked to her side. He gently pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear.

“Let me do it. Let me take revenge for you. I’ll rip out the eyes of those who hurt you. I’ll tear them apart.”

Please ask me.

He murmured those words again and again.

Juliana pressed her face against his shoulder and wept, as if all the grief she had buried inside was finally breaking free.

As he held her and listened to her quiet sobs, Braeden thought to himself, maybe this was hell.

Because if a pain this sharp was not hell, what else could it be?

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