The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 131

After returning to his office from their outing, Kyle could only sink further into despair.

The culprit? A discarded magazine that one of the maids had been tasked with throwing away—on Amel’s orders.

Exercising his full authority as head of the house, Kyle retrieved the magazine and brought it to his office.

And then, he was horrified.

“How… how could this happen? A husband, after his wife has given birth, commits adultery? Why was Amel reading something like this?”

The shock was enough to make him question his entire existence.

How could a man stray when his wife had given him such a precious child?

“This makes no sense.”

The idea that a husband might lose attraction to his wife after childbirth was as incomprehensible to Kyle as a foreign language.

Every time he saw Amel cuddling Eclit, their identical smiles warming the entire room, the rest of the world faded into the background.

“Kyle, come here. Eclit seems to want her daddy.”

“Kyah—!”

Whenever she called him over, Amel’s scent—sweet and intoxicating—greeted him first.

Each time, he had to suppress the urge to bury his lips against the curve of her neck.

But he had promised himself he wouldn’t trouble her until she had fully recovered.

So, instead, he had redirected his frustration into something productive—exercise.

From the final stages of Amel’s pregnancy until her full recovery, Kyle had dueled every single soldier beneath his command.

The result?

Even more muscle.

It hadn’t been his initial intention, but at least his body was in peak condition.

And yet, now, faced with this magazine, Kyle found himself rereading the article, the gears in his mind turning.

There was nothing wrong with him, so perhaps… the problem lay elsewhere.

Could it be that Amel no longer wanted him?

That he no longer appeared as a man in her eyes?

“Loss of desire? Amel…?”

The thought alone was so distressing that he had to physically force his lips into a smile.

But it was too soon to panic.

Kyle was always optimistic when it came to his wife.

Whether she desired him or not—he would have to conduct the ultimate seduction before coming to any conclusions.

Thankfully, there were still a few hours before bedtime.

Kyle began mentally compiling a list of things Amel liked.

“She likes money, so… laying gold coins and banknotes across the bed… No, that’s ridiculous.”

Flowers, land, sweet music, stocks—each idea came and went, none of them quite right.

Then, suddenly, his eyes gleamed.

Because if he was thinking about what Amel loved most…

“Hild, where is my easiest-to-remove shirt?”

Of course.

It was him.

Kyle successfully transformed their bedroom into a labyrinth of temptation before the night was over.

First was the luxurious glass bathtub, filled with warm water and scattered rose petals.

He made sure the entire bathroom carried a faint hint of musk—subtle, yet undeniable.

“We’ll bathe together first…”

His gaze methodically traced the next steps of the plan, pausing at the full-length mirror near the wardrobe.

He still remembered the last time Amel had been pressed against that mirror, her hand leaving foggy traces on the glass as they kissed.

Just the memory was enough to make his breath hitch.

“She’ll love that.”

Next, his eyes landed on the bed, newly adorned with the softest sheets money could buy.

Just brushing against them would elicit a sigh.

“Perfect.”

Kyle imagined Amel’s playful, knowing smile as she took in the scene.

Finally, his gaze fell upon the table, where flickering candlelight danced against a bottle of wine.

He had retrieved it absentmindedly from the shelf on his way up, but upon closer thought, it might be a bit early for Amel to drink.

She had a habit of completely ignoring her own flexibility and stamina when intoxicated.

Kyle wanted to devour her, not hurt her.

“…Just one sip, then.”

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have cared for any particular bottle.

But this wasn’t just any wine.

It was Amelia Wine.

Sweet, rich, and intoxicating—it reminded him of her.

Only then did he realize he had forgotten to bring a wine glass.

He briefly considered simply uncorking the bottle and drinking straight from it—Amel did enjoy decadence, after all.

But then, something caught his eye.

A delicate crystal goblet, so intricately designed that it looked like it had been sculpted by fae artisans.

Since it was just a cup, using it shouldn’t be a problem.

Deciding to maintain a touch of dignity rather than full indulgence, Kyle poured himself a glass.

For a moment, a faint light flickered across the goblet’s surface, but the candlelight masked it.

Swirling the wine gently, he inhaled the rich aroma before taking a deep sip.

“…!”

The moment the liquid slid down his throat, Kyle instinctively set the glass down.

The warmth spread rapidly, as if his entire body were melting from the inside out.

“What… is this…?”

His vision swam.

Kyle knew what was happening.

This wasn’t poison.

Nor was it simple intoxication.

“This… feels just like…”

His heartbeat pounded, each contraction sending fire racing through his veins.

His face was burning.

Not just his face—his ears, the tips of his fingers, every inch of his skin.

Even the mere sensation of his own clothes brushing against him sent shivers down his spine.

His entire body was tensed, feverish, and already damp with sweat.

“Why… the hell… does this feel like an aphrodisiac…?”

Kyle clenched his jaw, gripping the edge of the table as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Damn it…”

He had set out to seduce Amel tonight.

But at this rate, he might just self-destruct before she even arrived.

Kyle clenched his teeth. This was no laughing matter.

A pained groan slipped through his lips as he fought against the unbearable heat surging through his body.

His only hope was to cool himself down—somehow. Even if he dumped cold water over himself, he doubted it would be enough, but it was the only solution he could think of.

Step by agonizing step, he carefully made his way toward the bathtub. He had to move cautiously—if his clothes brushed against his skin the wrong way, his legs might give out entirely.

“Kh…!”

That was when disaster struck.

The infamous Chaield ‘Easily Removable Shirt’ caught on a fixture and slipped right off.

His clothes didn’t just shift or loosen; they slid straight down—smoothly, effortlessly, as if they had always intended to betray him.

Kyle’s exposed skin was instantly grazed by the soft fabric on its way down.

He froze.

His flushed face sank low, a strangled sound caught in his throat.

“I swear, if Amel walks in right now, carrying Eclit…”

The sheer humiliation would haunt him for the rest of his life.

And if this turned into a traumatic memory, it might just prevent him from giving Eclit any younger siblings.

Fueled by sheer determination, Kyle forced himself to move forward.

His vision blurred.

Was it the wine? The glass?

At this point, it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was stopping this before he completely lost control.

Dragging himself like a dying man, Kyle finally reached the bathroom.

If he doused himself in cold water all at once, the sensation would be too overwhelming. He needed to fill the tub with cold water first.

“Stay calm. First, the drain stopper—”

He crouched down, carefully gripping the plug at the bottom of the tub.

And then—

SPLASH!

His legs buckled, and he slid straight into the steaming water.

Heat surged through him like wildfire.

His heart pounded, his breath hitched, and his vision swam.

“Ah…”

The sensation of water soaking into his pants, clinging to his overheated skin, made his head spin.

Tears of sheer frustration welled in his eyes.

He could only pray that no one opened the door until this unbearable state subsided.

Finally, the long-awaited night arrived.

I wrapped a thick bathrobe over my minimal sleepwear and made my way to the bedroom.

“Vanessa said she left it in the bedroom.”

The item in question?

A magical artifact known as the Cup of Love.

It imbued any liquid poured into it—water, wine, anything—with an aphrodisiac effect.

And the stronger the drinker’s love for their partner, the stronger the effect.

“Too strong could be a problem, so I’ll just dab a little on my lips.”

I had never intended to drink it myself.

But applied to my lips, it would mix naturally when we kissed, adding just enough intrigue for both of us.

“Kyle, I’m he—oh?”

I had pushed open the bedroom door with enthusiasm, only to pause.

Something was off.

The scene before me could only be described as a romantic murder scene.

A wine glass lay overturned on the floor.

Doors stood ajar as if their owner had fled in a panic.

And then—

“Wait. That glass…”

My eyes darted across the room.

The Easily Removable Shirt lay discarded on the floor like an obvious trail marker.

The bathroom door was closed, but not locked.

“Kyle!”

A sinking feeling hit me as I rushed inside.

Steam billowed outward as the door swung open, making the scene hazy for a moment before clearing.

“Amel, don’t—don’t come in.”

His voice was hoarse, breathless—like someone running a high fever.

I had never heard Kyle’s voice shake like that before.

“Kyle, are you—oh my.”

I stepped further in—and promptly froze.

I had once read that true art should be appreciated from a respectful distance.

And right now?

Kyle was art.

“Kyle, are you okay? What happened? Oh dear… this is just… tragic… oh my goodness… dear heavens…”

I rattled off a string of meaningless condolences, unable to look away.

The cause of his current state was obvious.

The cork was missing from the Amelia Wine.

The Cup of Love lay abandoned on the floor.

And Kyle?

He was struggling against the overwhelming effects of an aphrodisiac.

“Just how much does he love me for it to affect him this strongly…?”

“…Don’t come any closer.”

Even in his delirium, he seemed mortified by his own reaction.

His entire face was flushed deep red, sweat beading along his forehead and the back of his neck.

“I should feel bad for him… but I don’t.”

Not really.

Guilt was a problem for later.

Right now?

I stepped forward, brushing my fingers gently through his damp hair.

Each ripple in the water made him tense.

“I’m losing my mind.”

“Would she think I’m crazy if I pulled her into the tub?”

“My entire plan failed completely.”

“I just wanted her to see me as a man again.”

I had already guessed the reason behind his elaborate setup.

But this?

“He wanted me to see him as a man again?”

That was absolute nonsense.

“Kyle, what are you even thinking? With this body and this face, you’re worried about not being seen as a man?”

I leaned down, tilting his chin up before slowly tracing his lips with my tongue.

The lingering taste of Amelia Wine mixed with the sensation of his body tensing beneath me.

“You’re not getting out of this. Aphrodisiacs work this way for a reason.”

His breath hitched.

“Now close your eyes.”

I straddled him in the tub, pulling him into a deep kiss.

The heat between us flared again—only this time, I had no intention of letting it dissipate.