When You Started to Regret - Chapter 34

A strikingly handsome man with platinum-blond hair, his face twisted in rage, strode forward. And yet even in anger his footsteps made no sound. His noble, graceful gait remained impeccable.

Tsk.

Dominic clicked his tongue and tilted his chin slightly.
Despite Fernando’s furious expression, his silent steps assured Dominic that Elaine wouldn’t be woken from her sleep inside.

“Cheshire, is it?”

Fernando, now standing directly in front of him, grabbed him by the collar with a furious glare. His sharp, well-groomed features were flushed, the corners of his eyes red with fury. Dominic hadn’t seen Elaine truly angry before, but if she ever was, perhaps she would wear this same expression.

“Since when did a runaway slave who murdered Edmund get to adopt such a petty little name?”

“Such an intense greeting—how passionate of you, Lord Aiola.”

Dominic smiled calmly, eyes narrowed into a crescent moon, utterly unfazed by Fernando’s murderous glare.

“Shut your mouth, you deranged murderer—!”

But just as Fernando’s voice began to rise, Dominic’s own expression hardened. He gripped Fernando’s wrists tightly, prying them from his collar with a firm force.

“You of all people—”

His voice was low, icy—laced with madness and buried fury.

“Let go of me. Before Elaine wakes up.”

At the sound of her name, Fernando froze.
What followed was a silent battle of wills—one man refusing to release his grip, the other forcing it away.

Tension coiled in the air between them, visible only through the veins bulging in their necks, forearms, and clenched hands.

In the end, Dominic won. He tore Fernando’s hands away and brushed aside the front of his robe, clearly irritated.

Fernando’s eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of Dominic’s bare chest—covered in fresh bruises and dark hickeys.

“You… Don’t tell me—you and Elaine…”

Dominic let out a quiet, mocking laugh. He could see exactly what had shocked him.

“Sharp eyes, Lord Aiola.”

His voice was thick with ridicule. Fernando stood frozen in place, unable to respond.

“She’s a clever woman. A joy to teach. Of course… there’s physical joy too.”

To know that your sister is involved with a man is one thing.
To see the aftermath with your own eyes—was entirely another.

“It’s a shame I can’t share that joy with you,” Dominic continued smoothly. “Words wouldn’t do it justice anyway. You’d have to see for yourself… the look on her face, the sound of her voice when she clawed at my shoulders—”

“Elaine.”

Crack.

A terrifying noise came from Fernando’s clenched fists as he muttered her name.

“Leave Elaine out of this.”

Dominic glanced at his trembling knuckles, lips curling in scorn.

Tsk. He’s going to break his own hands at this rate.

Still smiling, he watched Fernando closely.

“That sounds like something you should say to the lady herself. I’m not the one refusing to leave her alone. She’s the one who won’t let me go. That foolish girl… she’s already completely fallen for me.”

“Elaine has nothing to do with this!” Fernando snapped. “Whatever grudge you bear, whatever schemes you’re planning—this is between you, me, and Vanessa. I’m warning you as the head of House Aiola. If you drag an innocent girl into your revenge, I swear on everything I have—I’ll destroy you.”

“And if she hears this cowardly outburst from her beloved brother?” Dominic asked, voice calm and laced with cruelty.

Fernando faltered.
Dominic saw it immediately—and scoffed.

“You really can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt, can you?”

A low laugh escaped his lips, silencing Fernando’s near-plea.

“If you’re so afraid, just tell her the truth. It’s simple, isn’t it? Tell her Dominic Cheshire is actually a man who holds a grudge against the royal family and House Aiola. That he deliberately approached her. That you and Vanessa worked together to kill his sister and ruin his life in the cruelest way imaginable.”

“…”

“But you won’t. Because you still want to be the perfect, gentle older brother to your sweet little sister.”

“…About what happened five years ago—about your sister…”

“Shut. Your. Mouth.”

Dominic’s composed mask shattered.

He had held the upper hand this whole time, towering over Fernando with a calm that cut like ice—but the moment his sister was mentioned, fury exploded from within.

“You dare…”

His voice trembled with rage.

“You dare speak Liliana’s name with that filthy mouth?”

Crack!

A sharp, brutal punch struck Fernando across the face, snapping his head to the side.

Dominic stood there, fists clenched, breathing heavily—his own pain numb beneath the weight of his fury.

“…I’m sorry.”

To Dominic’s surprise, the man who had been struck did not fight back.
Instead, Fernando sank to his knees and offered an apology.

“I truly am sorry. For what happened—to you, and to your sister.”

“…”

“But there was no other choice. We… we were trying to save your life—”

Dominic’s fist flew again. This time, it struck the corner of Fernando’s mouth.

A groan escaped as he staggered, blood welling between his teeth. He didn’t even try to wipe it away. Instead, he looked up—at the man he had once shattered with his own hands, now towering above him with cold fury.

“Please, just… stop talking.”

Fernando stayed kneeling. But it was Dominic—his lips twisted in something like a laugh, something like pain—who looked as if he might cry.

“Shut your mouth, Lord Aiola,” Dominic said bitterly, running a hand down his face.

Then, through the spread of his fingers, he glanced down at the nobleman crouched at his feet.

That detestable Aiola. The man he wanted to tear apart with his bare hands.

“If you push me any further…”

His voice dropped, low and venomous, like a curse settling over Fernando’s silver-blond head.

“…I can’t promise what I might do to your precious little sister.”

Creaaak.
The door opened softly.

A slight movement came from the bed. Elaine stirred at the sound, rubbing her eyes as she lifted her upper body.

With arms wide open, she reached toward him like a child wanting to be held.

Dominic walked toward her without a word.

“Did someone come by?” she asked sleepily, climbing into his embrace.

“Dominic?”

“…No. No one.”

His voice was rough, strained.

When she called his name again, puzzled by his silence, Dominic only gave her a cool, eerie smile—and kissed her gently on the forehead.

The soft kiss made Elaine giggle.

“What’s this all of a sudden? You’re being weirdly sentimental,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Her green eyes, still drowsy, shimmered gently in the dark. He stared into them for a long moment… and then pushed her down onto the bed.

“W-Wait… Dominic…?”

His robe—loose and too large for her—slipped off her shoulders. A chill ran across her skin.

All night, Elaine had wanted to look him in the eye while they kissed.
But Dominic refused her that intimacy. Coldly. Repeatedly.

What was he so afraid of, that he wouldn’t even meet her eyes?

The darkness already hid the twisted expression on his face.
Maybe… maybe what terrified him most was realizing that the one receiving his rage and obsession wasn’t Fernando Aiola’s sister… but Elaine—this woman—the one in his arms.

He didn’t want to see those beautiful, shy, affectionate eyes gazing up at him.

So, he poured all his rage into her.

She flinched at how rough he was. She felt it—clearly.

But each time, he silenced it with murmurs of false affection.

This is your fault.
You’re too beautiful. Too kind.
You make me want to destroy you. To strangle you with love.
Aiola. Aiola. Damn that name. Damn you—I want to kill you.

The emotions that spilled across her body felt less like passion, more like punishment.

Dominic stared down at the wreckage he had made.
That wasn’t love.
That was violence—born of heartbreak.

“Nothing really happened… right?”

Elaine rolled over, her body limp and weary.
She gazed at him through the shadows, her eyes adjusting to the dark, trying to read the expression on his face.

“Hmm? Dominic.”

She tried to sit up, but he pushed her down again—firmly.

Her soft lips parted with a small whimper, only to be silenced as he crushed his mouth against hers.

“I told you,” he murmured. “You’re too beautiful.”

He looked down at her—at her delicate, small head—and forced a twisted smile to his lips.

“I can’t help myself, Aiola. Just a bit more… You’re amazing at everything, aren’t you? My perfect little Aiola. Yes, that’s it. Just like that.”

He stroked her hair. Even in the darkness, the strands shimmered softly under the moonlight.

“Why do you have to shine like this?” he whispered.

He didn’t know if it was a lament or a confession.
She stopped moving and looked up at him.

Her green eyes stared into his—unblinking.

Dominic’s face crumpled.

“Elaine. Aiola. Which one are you?”

His hand moved from her scalp down to her cheek, scratching lightly—just enough to feel her skin.

As he always did, he brushed her reddened eyes with his thumb… then suddenly gripped her face tightly in one hand.

“Well? Tell me. Which one are you?”

Are you Elaine?
Or are you Aiola?

What am I supposed to see when I look at you?

His movements grew harsher, like the chaos inside him had taken form.

And finally, what overcame her wasn’t the residue of his long-harbored rage…

…but a kind of sorrow.
A despair so hollow, it left no room for anything else.

After the frenzied repetition of it all, Elaine collapsed in his arms, spent and trembling.

Unlike her peaceful expression, Dominic’s heart was still pounding like a war drum.

“…Dominic.”

Elaine, in a faint voice, reached up to touch his chest.

“Kiss me now.”

She whispered like a child asking for a bedtime story.

“I want to kiss you.”

“…”

Dominic stared at her, silent.

Then slowly, he leaned down.

But in the pit of his stomach, only the bitter aftertaste of rage and emptiness lingered.

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