hanagaki_ryuka

Synopsis:
In my first life, I was a broke background character who died after slipping on a banana peel (tragic).

In my second life, I reincarnated into a fantasy novel… as the villain’s wife?! The cold, cruel villain everyone fears — Theodore Hellgrave aka “The Blood Tyrant.”

But plot twist: the villain isn’t just obsessed with world domination.
He’s obsessed with me.

All I want is a peaceful life, maybe open a bakery or something, but this psycho villain keeps spoiling me to death — buying me castles, putting flowers in my hair, threatening anyone who looks at me (even the dog).

Every time I try to divorce him, the entire empire trembles. And the worst part?

… I think I’m falling for him...

Villain husband, please sign the divorce papers

Verbena lay sprawled across her bed, limbs dramatically spread out like a tragic heroine from a play. Life was unfair. Marriage was unfair. And worst of all, her heart was unfair.

Ever since that moment in the garden, when Theodore had gently wiped the dirt from her cheek, she hadn't been able to think straight. His hand had been so warm, his gaze oddly tender—and worst of all, he smelled too good. How dare a villain have such a nice scent?

"I'm losing it," Verbena groaned into her pillow. "This is the man I'm trying to divorce, not… not swoon over!"

She needed a distraction. Something to clear her mind before she started writing "Mrs. Verbena Hellgrave" in her notebook like a lovesick fool.

Snatching a quill and a fresh sheet of parchment, she intended to draft a list of new escape plans. But instead, her hand began writing something far more dangerous.

I hate how you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention.

I hate how your voice gets softer when you call my name.

I hate that my heart skips every time you touch me.

And most of all, I hate that I don't actually hate you at all.

The quill slipped from her hand. Verbena stared at the words in abject horror.

"No! This is—this is illegal! This is not happening!"

She crumpled the parchment into a ball, ready to toss it into the fireplace, when a soft knock sounded at the door. Before she could react, the head maid entered with her usual pleasant (and suspiciously nosy) smile.

"Duchess, do you have any letters for me to deliver?"

"No! No letters! I'm…letterless!" Verbena scrambled to hide the evidence behind her back.

But the head maid's eyes were sharp as a hawk. Her gaze locked onto the crumpled paper peeking from Verbena's fingers. "Is that a letter for His Grace?" Her smile grew wider, practically sparkling with gossip-fueled excitement.

"No, no! This is—this is trash! A shopping list gone wrong! A—a personal exercise in bad handwriting!"

The maid, undeterred, plucked the paper from Verbena's grasp with the skill of a seasoned pickpocket. "Oh, Your Grace, no need to be shy. I'll make sure it's delivered right away."

But the maid was already halfway down the hall, humming cheerfully.

Verbena collapsed onto her bed, arms flopping over her face. "This is how I die."

Chapter 26: The Misunderstood Love Letter