Deflower Me If You Can Chapter 15

“For that, he’d even invited a few of his mates to the castle. After all, deviance is always more thrilling when you’re in a group.

Now then, what should I start with?

Suddenly picturing himself drunk and bungee jumping naked, Cassian let out a laugh—haha. He tossed the wet towel carelessly to the floor and left the bathroom in high spirits, walking barefoot across the room. He was in an absolutely fantastic mood.

Before choosing what to wear for dinner, he decided to check his phone messages—but it wasn’t in sight.

Where did I put it?

Standing naked, Cassian swiveled his head, scanning his surroundings, and furrowed his brow as he searched his memory. He’d come into the room, taken off his clothes, and his phone was…

Turning his head, he soon let out a snicker. His phone was sitting right there on the bed, all alone. Whistling, he walked over and bent down. That was when he noticed one corner of the sheet was bulging up. The attendants must not have tidied up properly. Without much thought, Cassian grabbed the sheet along with his phone and pulled. As the sheet covering the bed was whisked away, the neatly made mattress came fully into view. And then Cassian’s entire body went rigid.

“Mmm…”

What he’d thought was a crumpled sheet forming a strange shape was completely wrong. That space wasn’t empty. With the sheet that had been covering him from head to toe gone, the little brat—curled up on the mattress, fast asleep—rubbed his eyes and woke up. The kid, barely reaching Cassian’s knees, groggily sat up, blinked his sleepy eyes, and looked up at him. His gaze, first landing on Cassian’s chest, traveled downward, step by step. Over the clearly defined, split muscles of his abdomen, past the waist with not an ounce of flab, across the pubic bone, and down to where the man’s…

The child’s gaze fixed there, and his sleep-dazed eyes gradually grew wide. And just as his mouth opened as wide as his rounding eyes—

AAAAAAAAAH!

In that moment, Cassian’s face went pale, and he let out a scream that could wake the dead.”

∞ ∞ ∞

“What on earth possessed you to walk around with your clothes all stripped off? Good heavens, for that little child to see such an unsightly thing! How shocked he must have been. Bliss was utterly dazed. No matter what I said, he just stared blankly—and who could blame him? To have come all this way only to witness such an indecent sight. Honestly, what am I to do with you.”

The duchess, clearly quite put out by the unpleasant incident, scolded her son in a more agitated tone than usual. But this time, Cassian also had plenty to say—and a great deal of it.

“It’s my room, and whether I take my clothes off or not is my own business. Isn’t the one at fault that peanut crumb who was sleeping in someone else’s bed without permission? More importantly, why on earth didn’t you tell me that brat was here in the first place?”

At his son’s angry, rapid-fire outburst, the duchess furrowed her brow, visibly displeased.

“But I wanted to surprise you—what else could I do?”

“Ha.”

Cassian let out a scoff of sheer incredulity. If that was what the Miller brat had wanted, then he’d succeeded 100%—no, 1,000%. Cassian had been so startled his heart had nearly leaped out of his throat. And what’s this about seeing an indecent sight? That was his line. He was the victim, and yet he was the one getting scolded—could there be a more absurd situation?

But if he let out everything he was holding inside, his mother might faint on the spot. In the end, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and swallow the curses he wanted to hurl. As he roughly raked his hair back in frustration, the duchess spoke again.

“That tiny child still remembered you and came all this way just to see you—isn’t that admirable? When I heard that from Mr. Miller, I was so deeply moved…”

Her hands pressed to her chest, she let out a deep sigh, looking more sincere than ever. Of course, Cassian felt none of that sentiment.

“You should have at least given me a heads-up.”

If she had, he would have left England the moment vacation started. To have that peanut crumb dropped into his long-awaited, golden vacation right at the start—this was nothing short of terrorism.

“He must have hidden in your room to surprise you and then fallen asleep. He traveled a long way by plane, so he must have been tired.”

The duchess continued to take Bliss’s side. Cassian, exasperated by the situation, had no choice but to press her.

“So, Mother, are you saying everything is my fault?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not.”

The duchess immediately denied it, then added casually.

“I’m merely saying that you’re not entirely blameless either.”

She had stepped back, but she hadn’t fully surrendered. In the end, Cassian pressed a hand to his forehead, tilted his head back, and let out a simmering breath.

“Haah.”

Seeing her son like that, the duchess spoke as if to console him.

“He won’t be staying very long. And you don’t have to play with him every day, do you? Just once every two or three days, for a couple of hours—that’ll suffice.”

She added soothingly.

“That little child came all this way from so far just to see you—isn’t it pitiful? Besides, he’s a child of the Miller family. Given the relationship between our houses, we must treat him with the utmost hospitality.”

Once again, her words weren’t wrong. The name “Miller” was not one to be taken lightly—especially for his own future as the heir to the ducal house. After standing motionless for a moment, Cassian finally let out a sigh and could only nod.

“…Understood. I’ll try.”

“Yes, that’s the way. You’ve made the right decision.”

His mother smiled as if she’d been waiting for that, and patted his arm. Cassian, however, still wore a displeased expression as he spoke.

“By the way, how long is that brat planning to stay here?”

Cassian was clinging to his mother’s earlier words—that he “wouldn’t be staying very long”—as his last shred of hope. Looking her son in the face, the duchess answered gently.

“Not very long.”

“Yes, you said that already. So I’m asking how long—three days? Four?”

When Cassian pressed again, the duchess looked surprised, then gave a light, dismissive glance.

“Dear me, that’s far too short. He crossed the sea to get here—that little child, on a plane for hours.”

“Alright. Then a week? A week?”

At his impatient questioning, the duchess gave an ambiguous smile.

“A bit longer than that.”

“Ten days, then.”

Cassian nodded, and the duchess spoke again.

“A bit longer than that.”

“Surely not a fortnight?”

Cassian frowned. The duchess continued to gaze at him, still smiling. A foreboding feeling sent a chill down his spine. To her son, who was looking at her with wavering eyes, the duchess finally gave her answer.

“One month.”

“Oh, fuck!”

Cassian blurted out a curse. Shocked, the duchess went pale and immediately exclaimed.

“Good heavens, did you just swear? At me? Oh my goodness, how could you use such vulgar language. God, please forgive my son’s wicked tongue.”

The duchess hastily clasped her hands and began to pray, but Cassian didn’t even see her.

He’d come home thinking of a peaceful vacation, and what was this bolt from the blue? His grand plans for a once-in-a-lifetime debaucherous time had all gone to hell. Spending this precious vacation babysitting a kid—this was the epitome of fucking. No, a million fucking squared. Didn’t he already know what that tiny Satan was like? The memories of a year ago, which he’d finally managed to forget, came rushing back, and he clutched his head in both hands.

“I’m ruined. I’m completely ruined.”

Seeing her son tormenting himself in such a pained voice, the duchess hurriedly tried to comfort him.

“Don’t be so dramatic. A whole year has passed since then, hasn’t it? Bliss is a year older now, so he must have matured a bit. He’s just a little lively, that’s all…”

“A little? A little lively? He barges into someone else’s house without permission, rummages through everything, and even rolls around in my bed—and you call that ‘a little’ lively?”