Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 92
“Did you not hear me tell you to leave for the day?”
“I-I did hear that, but…”
Macy clutched her torn clothes tightly, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Yet, no matter how much she tried to cover herself, the marks scattered across her neck remained visible, only making her look more suggestive. Among the folds of her clothes, a hint of red caught Rubens’s eye.
Without thinking, he grabbed her arms and pulled them apart.
“What are you doing?!”
Her clothes, which she had been desperately trying to use to cover herself, fell away like scraps of fabric. Startled, she tried to squirm free from his grasp.
“Please don’t, Your Grace…!”
“Wait.”
Her bare chest moved provocatively, distracting him. Rubens frowned, gripping her wrist with one hand while using the other to brush over the red stain on her b****t.
“Ah!”
His white glove was now stained red. Macy’s shoulders tensed as she trembled under his touch.
Yet, as he wiped the area, there was no cut or abrasion—just the bright red stain. Realizing it wasn’t blood, Rubens glanced down and saw a brush smeared with red paint lying on the floor.
It was paint, not blood, that had stained her chest.
“Let go of me!”
Macy twisted her body, pushing his hand away. Rubens stared at his now-empty hand for a moment before turning a cold gaze on her.
“Why are you doing this to me? What do you think you’re—”
“Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
Rubens’s voice was low and calm as he spoke to the trembling Macy.
“You injured a guest of my household. Even if you’re desperate for a man, you should at least be selective.”
“I’m sorry for hurting His Highness, but it was an accident. I never had any ill intentions!”
“Someone without ill intentions wouldn’t have just laid there without resisting.”
“I… I wasn’t just lying there…”
“You should’ve fought back, like you just did with me. You should’ve struggled and screamed. Do you even know what could’ve happened?”
“But… he’s royalty, and I thought I had to…”
“Enough. I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses.”
Rubens fought to suppress his rising anger as he issued his command.
Macy had a history—she had once confessed that she wanted to kiss several men, and lately, even with Rubens in his guise as the Duke, she had acted provocatively toward him.
‘Did you just grab a man’s hand without thinking, a man who’s about to be engaged, and call that an accident?’
Rubens had tried to overlook her frivolous approach to relationships, but now he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He had thought that once she was confined to the cabin, she wouldn’t have the opportunity to meet other men.
But now, it was clear she hadn’t been able to wait and had caused trouble in the meantime.
“Are you trying to elevate your status by throwing yourself at nobles? These men you think you’re impressing will just use you once and discard you. Even if you don’t know how the world works, you should at least know that much.”
“…”
“All you’ve learned is how to flaunt your body. How dare you act so shamelessly in my estate? Did you think because he’s a foreign prince, this was your opportunity?”
Macy’s face twitched with humiliation, her muscles tense with the weight of his accusations.
Rubens knew that if he let this go, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t repeat such behavior. He grew anxious, wondering what she might do when he wasn’t around. He imagined her wandering off, causing trouble behind his back.
Perhaps he should lock her away immediately—somewhere isolated, where no one could hear her cries for help.
Strip her of those flimsy clothes so she couldn’t leave, couldn’t run. The violent urge to possess her surged within him.
If she was confined, she’d wait for him, long for him alone. His right hand tingled, recalling the brief moment it had touched her skin. He wanted to claim her, to make her his.
As he tried to steady his breath, calming his growing desire, Macy finally spoke up.
“Was that your plan too, Your Grace? To use me and throw me away?”
“What?”
For a moment, Rubens didn’t understand what she meant. Then he sighed deeply and responded.
“Do you think I’d lay a hand on someone like you? A mere painter?”
“Ah. So that’s why you haven’t.”
The tone shifted. Macy seemed unnervingly calm as her trembling was gone. The hands she had been clutching her clothes with had relaxed, and despite her exposed chest, she no longer looked embarrassed.
A strange unease crept over Rubens as his instincts sharpened.
“Then why are you so angry, Your Grace? I’m just a worthless object to you.”
“It’s because you’re in my estate—”
“You’ve said similar things before, haven’t you? That I have a crude sense of sexuality, that I’d throw myself at any man.”
Rubens’s face hardened. Macy’s voice grew firmer as she pressed on.
“So why does it matter to you who I sleep with?”
