They Turned Marshal into Canine Fondue, I Reborn to End Their Feast

I stared at him and asked, word by word.

"Then tell me, what kind of twisted logic makes you think turning the service dog that saved my dad into a canine fondue is some kind of kindness?"

Darius's expression darkened completely. His gaze bore into me as if he wanted to carve a piece of flesh from my face.

"Astrid, are you really going to make a scene over a dog?" His voice was cold as ice.

"Darius, don't be mad. It's all my fault … "

Nicolette sobbed as she clung to Darius's side, her eyes filled with tears. One hand was covering her burn, but the other was tightly gripping the hem of his shirt.

"I thought Astrid would like the surprise. I didn't know that dog meant so much to her. I really didn't … "

Her cries came in gasps, as though she were the one who had suffered unbearable cruelty.

Darius immediately pulled her into his arms and gently comforted her, but his gaze grew even colder and full of blame as he looked at me.

"Look at what you've done. You've scared Nicole."

"She's just a simple girl from the countryside. How would she know what a service dog is? She just wanted to make you happy."

"Even if you don't appreciate it, was it necessary to be so harsh?"

That gentle tone, that protective stance, was identical to how he had comforted his new lover in his arms before he sent me to the asylum in my previous life.

My heart had long since turned to ashes, burned away in the flames of the life I once lived. Now, all that remained was icy hatred.

"Make me happy?"

I scoffed, pointing at the still-boiling red broth in the pot.

"By using my father's comrade-in-arms, the one he valued as much as his own life, just to 'make me happy'?"

"Darius, do you even believe what you're saying?"

Darius's patience seemed to have entirely run out.

He slammed the table and stood up abruptly, looking down at me from his towering height.

"Astrid! That's enough!"

"It's just a damn dog! Dead is dead. If it bothers you that much, I'll replace it with ten, no, a hundred more!"

"Do you have to make everyone so uncomfortable over such a small matter?"

Behind him, Nicolette peeked out from the shelter of his arms, throwing me a barely noticeable smirk.

I caught a glimpse of it.

It was the same triumphant expression she had worn in my previous life when she stood outside the asylum's iron bars, looking at me strapped to the hospital bed.

She had said, "Astrid, see? In the end, Darius still chose me."

She had also added, "Your parents, your company, your Marshal, everything that was yours, is mine now."

The memories surged like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me.

I dug my nails into my palm and the sharp pain snapped me back to reality.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Once, twice, urgent and forceful.

Darius frowned and impatiently barked, "Who is it?"

No one answered. Yet the doorbell kept ringing insistently.

Annoyed, he strode over and yanked the door open.

Outside stood Alaric, dressed in a sharply pressed military uniform, flanked by two equally stern-faced young officers.

On their shoulders gleamed the unmistakable stars of high-ranking generals.

Alaric's gaze swept past Darius and landed directly on me. The heartbreak and fury in his eyes were so intense they felt almost tangible.

Then, his attention slowly shifted to the canine fondue on the table.

The air in the living room instantly turned to ice.

Darius stood frozen, staring at the three men in uniform at the door.

He'd rubbed shoulders with plenty of wealthy and influential people in the business world, but never had he met anyone with this kind of presence.