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My Bratty Wife

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENTS AND SLOW BURN] Suzy, a modern-day real estate agent, finds herself inexplicably transported to a ruthless noble family in a bygone era. Thrust into the role of the ostracized Cassandra, Suzy grapples with navigating courtly intrigue and a loveless arranged marriage to a cold, calculating Duke, Ryan. As a mysterious figure surfaces, threatening the kingdom, Suzy uncovers a web of secrets that challenge everything she thought she knew. Can she solve the historical enigma while facing her growing feelings for the stoic Duke in a world determined to keep them apart? Dive into this captivating slow-burn romance woven with historical intrigue and suspenseful mystery. [PS: He fell first, fell harder and fell madder.]

Cameron_Rose_8326 · Histoire
Pas assez d’évaluations
47 Chs

Chapter Thirty One

As the clinking of silverware faded and the staff began clearing the table, Suzy finally found her voice. "Doris," she called out, her voice strained.

Doris, ever attentive, materialized beside her with a concerned frown. "Yes, Milady?" she inquired.

Suzy took a deep breath, pushing away the untouched food on her plate. "Would you mind terribly," she began, "taking this to my room? And…" she hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing slightly, "perhaps you could find… a very good strong wine to accompany it?"

Doris's eyes widened in surprise. Wine? And not just any wine, but a very strong one?

"A… a strong wine, Milady?" Doris stammered, her voice laced with disbelief. "But… wouldn't that be…"

Suzy cut her off, a hint of defiance in her voice. "Doris," she said firmly, "tonight, I need a little… indulgence. Just find the strongest, most delicious wine you can, and please, no more lectures."

Doris's lips pursed in disapproval. "Drinking is not a solution, Milady," she began, her voice firm but respectful. "And for a Duchess, it wouldn't be…"

"Doris!" Suzy snapped, a rare spark of anger flashing in her eyes. "Just find the wine, please. And quickly."

Doris, sensing the Suzy's rising frustration, bowed her head in submission. "Yes, Milady," she murmured, turning to leave. Suzy made her way to her bedroom, and Doris couldn't help but worry about the consequences.

Moments later, Doris returned, a heavy bottle wrapped in a velvet cloth cradled in her arms. She set it down on the table beside Suzy's untouched dinner plate with a worried frown.

Suzy, already in her room when Doris arrived, had dismissed the maids who were tidying up. She sat on a plush armchair by the window, the weight of the strained dinner still heavy upon her. The arrival of the wine, however, brought a flicker of excitement to her eyes.

She uncorked the bottle with surprising ease, the sound echoing softly in the stillness of the room. Pouring herself a generous glass, she raised it to the light, admiring the ruby red liquid within.

Taking a tentative sip, she closed her eyes, savoring the rich flavor that danced on her tongue. A deep sigh escaped her lips, a sound of release and… something else, something akin to pleasure.

"Roasted chicken and wine," she murmured, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. "This is a good combination, a match made in heaven."

With a rumbling stomach, she dived into her abandoned dinner, the wine warming her from the inside out. Doris, who had remained hesitantly in the room, watched in disbelief as Suzy polished off the entire chicken and, astonishingly, the bottle of wine.

"Another bottle, Doris?" Suzy called out, her voice laced with an intoxicated tone. "Make it two."

Doris, still in shock, stared at the empty wine bottle and the increasingly intoxicated Suzy. This was a side of Suzy she had never seen before, a side that filled her with a mixture of concern and… amusement.

As the night deepened, and the wine flowed freely, Suzy's inhibitions loosened. She spoke of her frustrations with Ryan.

"Ugh," Suzy groaned, slumping back in her chair and draining her glass in one long gulp. "That man!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with frustration. "He's so… so…" she sputtered, searching for the right word.

"Composed?" Doris offered tentatively, already regretting her intrusion.

Suzy scoffed. "Composed? I will say aloof. He's an iceberg wrapped in a block of granite!" she declared, her voice thick with exasperation. "Doesn't he understand a woman's frustrations? Doesn't he see how trapped I feel in this gilded cage?"

Doris, unsure of how to respond, remained silent. This was uncharted territory, a Duchess openly criticizing the Duke, and under the influence of alcohol no less.

"Ryan… that infuriating man…" Suzy continued, "he just sits there, judging me with those cold eyes!"

Doris remained silent, unsure of how to respond to this unexpected outburst.

"And the worst part," Suzy continued, her voice thick with frustration, "is that I almost… almost… pity him."

Doris's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Pity the Duke? The very notion seemed absurd.

"He's so… alone," Suzy slurred, her words starting to run together. "Lost in this giant castle, burdened by responsibility. But then…"

Her voice trailed off, a flicker of anger replacing the momentary sympathy. She slammed her fist on the table, the sound echoing through the silent room.

"Then he opens his mouth and ruins everything!" she shouted, her voice laced with venom. "He treats me like a child, like some… some incompetent doll! Makes me want to…"

She reached across the table, grabbing another bottle of wine and uncorking it with surprising dexterity. She refilled her glass, downing half of it in one swift gulp.

"Makes me want to strangle his arrogant neck!" she declared, her voice hoarse but filled with a dangerous glint. "Watch that pretty face of his turn purple as he chokes on his own self importance!"

"Part of me," Suzy continued, her voice dropping to a lower, more dangerous tone, "part of me just wants to… to…" she trailed off, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and defiance.

"To have a conversation?" Doris suggested cautiously.

Suzy threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, humorless sound that echoed eerily in the vast room. "No, Doris," she said, her voice shaking slightly, "not a conversation. I want to… Arrghhh!…

She screamed, a sound that broke the intensity of her outburst. Doris gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. Such a violent outburst from a lady, let alone a Duchess, was beyond anything she could have imagined.

Suzy turned towards Doris, a weak smile playing on her lips. "Don't worry, Doris," she slurred, her voice laced with vulnerability. "I wouldn't really… strangle him."

Suzy, oblivious to Doris's reaction, continued on a drunken rant. "I miss them, Doris," she slurred, her voice thick with emotion. "I miss my parents, my real parents, the warmth of my home, the laughter that filled the air, Dad's unfunny jokes, the smell of Mom's cooking… it all feels so far away."

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. A vulnerability, raw and exposed, that shattered the image of the defiant woman Doris had witnessed moments ago.

"I want to go back," Suzy whispered, her voice barely audible now. "Back to my life, back to my family filled with love, back to my job, back to my friends, back to being Suzy not Cassandra. Back to a world where my voice mattered."

As the night wore on, Suzy's words became increasingly slurred, her eyelids drooping with the weight of the alcohol and the emotional outburst. Finally, with a soft moan, she slumped forward, her head resting on the table.

Doris rushed forward, gently easing Suzy into a more comfortable position. She tucked a blanket around her shivering form, the fiery defiance replaced by a peaceful slumber.