The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 142
In early September, the painting that Jeremih Baselitz—well, Karl Babenhausen—had promised to gift arrived at the Weimar estate.
“Hello. You must be the Marchioness of Neubitz?”
“Yes, that’s me… huh?”
To her surprise, the delivery person was none other than Karl himself. Dressed as a courier, Karl tilted up his beret with a playful grin. Johanna stood frozen for a moment before letting out a helpless laugh.
“You startled me…”
“I thought it would be more fun to deliver it this way.”
Karl, smiling warmly, carried the painting into the foyer. Annette guided him through the house. The painting by Karl was destined for the gallery on the third floor—a space where the Elderique family’s collection was displayed.
“It feels strange, seeing my painting among such magnificent masterpieces.”
“A painting by Jeremih Baselitz is a masterpiece too.”
“Well, a fan would certainly say that.”
Talking with him was unexpectedly easy. Although they had only met in person twice more, usually with Kiara, their frequent letter exchanges had made them grow closer.
“Now, shall we unveil the painting?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too much; it’s a lot of pressure.”
He had a surprisingly playful side, making Johanna wonder why he always seemed so gloomy in social circles. Though she didn’t know the details, she secretly speculated that it might have something to do with conflicts within his family, especially with his brother.
“3, 2, 1!”
With a sharp and deliberate countdown from three to one, Karl dramatically swept away the cloth covering the painting. The unveiled artwork was…
“…”
Johanna froze, her eyes widening in shock. Her vision filled entirely with white.
It was a scene of pristine, snowy winter.
A beautiful winter landscape, blanketed in snow, depicting a city street in the morning or perhaps midday. A mother and child, bundled up in winter clothes, stood together.
The mother was smiling warmly as she wrapped a scarf around the child. The sky, tinged with a sense of melancholy, was a pale gray, while large snowflakes seemed poised to cover the entire world in white.
The biting chill in the air, the faint scent of damp earth, the subtle powdery fragrance clinging to the mother’s cozy scarf, her gentle smile and voice filled with worry, the unwavering, unconditional love in her gaze—
“…”
Old memories overlapped with the scene before her eyes.
It felt as though all the sounds of the world had vanished, leaving her in an illusion of being inside a vacuum.
‘Johanna, sweetie, are you very cold? Here, take Mama’s scarf.’
‘Your scarf smells like Mama.’
‘What does Mama’s smell like?’
‘It’s nice.’
Suddenly, she felt her eyes burning with heat. Before she realized it, Johanna was crying.
“…Marchioness?”
Even when Karl called out to her, she couldn’t bring herself back. She crumbled, tears flowing uncontrollably.
It felt as though this painting had become a catalyst, breaking through her defenses.
“…Marchioness!”
As she staggered, Karl instinctively reached out to catch her. Or at least, he tried to—if not for her hand suddenly lashing out, striking his arm away.
“…!”
A startled Karl took a step back. Before anyone could notice his arrival, Leonid was already there, holding Johanna against his chest. His sharp gaze was directed at Karl, almost excessively intense.
It wasn’t until Johanna sensed the familiar pheromones enveloping her that she began to regain a faint grip on her senses. A hand gently brushed against her tear-streaked cheek. She flinched unconsciously, swatting the hand away. When she tried to push herself out of his embrace, his strong arms tightened around her, holding her firmly in place.
“Johanna.”
He called her name softly, but with a hint of irritation in his voice.
At the sound of his emotions, especially his anger, Johanna reacted like a frightened prey, trembling visibly as she stiffened.
“…Calm down.”
…Unbelievably, his voice was soothing. Johanna, looking up at him in a daze, quickly understood the reason behind his change in tone. Ah, Karl was nearby.
Realizing this, her mind snapped back into focus. Johanna quickly recognized her mistake. She hurriedly took out a handkerchief, wiping away her tears and steadying her breathing.
Now that her composure had returned, she couldn’t quite understand why she had broken down like that. Hadn’t she endured all this time without falling apart? She couldn’t afford to ruin everything now.
Johanna quickly adjusted her appearance, turning to Leonid with a practiced smile—the same flawless smile she had rehearsed countless times in front of the mirror, without a hint of awkwardness.
A smile that no one would doubt.
