Verena tossed in bed, unable to sleep. Finally, she gave up, deciding to fetch a glass of warm water from the kitchen.
Her footsteps were soft, but the moment she turned the hallway corner, a voice sliced through the silence.
"Verena." She flinched, nearly dropping the glass she had picked up.
Turning sharply, she saw Louis sitting rigidly on the living room sofa, his back straight, his posture almost statuesque.
The dim light from the hallway cast a shadow over half of his face, making him look more like a specter than a man.
She placed a hand over her chest, exhaling.
"What the hell. W-what are you doing here? Sitting in the dark like."
A devil. She dare not say last words openly.
"Come. Sit," he said, not answering her question.
His tone was calm, commanding, as always.
Verena frowned. But despite her instincts telling her to flee, she sat awkwardly, like a schoolgirl caught skipping class.
Her expression read loud and clear: I don't want to be here.
"You're scared of me." Louis rested his head in one hand, his eyes unreadable.
His voice was low and rough in the still night, even more dangerous than his usual cold self. It wasn't a question.
Verena swallowed. "I mean… isn't everyone?" she mumbled. "Probably not a single soul in this city who's not at least a little afraid of Louis Heisenberg."
Louis let the edge of a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. He toyed with the rim of the glass in his hand before saying evenly.
"Then why don't you marry me, since so many women want to?"
The words crashed into her like a rogue wave.
Her jaw dropped. "What?!"
She almost fell off the edge of the sofa.
"I thought we were past this!" she said, baffled. "We already decided—no marriage, remember? You made that very clear."
Louis remained still. "Little Benny relies on you. You mean something to him."
Verena gave a small, bitter laugh. "That's exactly why I shouldn't marry you. His attachment to me is temporary. He's a child, he'll move on once he's stabilized emotionally."
Louis turned to her, his eyes glinting in the dark. "I'm not doing this because of Benny alone."
She stared at him, lips parted, but no words came out, her mind mess for a second.
He set the glass down with a chung, startling her. "You saved him. And… my mother also wants me to marry you."
Verena nearly choked. "That's your reason? You're offering yourself to me like a reward?"
"It's not a reward," he replied coolly. "It's compensation. And practicality."
Verena exhaled, fighting a shiver—not from the cold, but from the sheer absurdity.
"Mr. Louis, I appreciate your… honesty. But I'm not interested in marriage. I don't believe in marrying for debt or obligation. You don't even know me. My past—"
"I don't care about your past," he cut in, his tone unshaken. "The woman I'm looking at now is who I want. Who you were doesn't matter to me."
She stared into his deep eyes. After a moment, she opened her mouth again.
"But it matters to me. I can't separate who I was from who I am. And that woman isn't ready to marry anyone. Especially not you."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut through steel.
Verena stood, slowly. "I'm going back to bed. Good night."
"Good night," he said simply.
She hesitated, then walked away, her steps echoing down the hall.
Louis sat there in the darkness, unmoving, staring into the void ahead of him.
His face remained unreadable.
But the fire in his eyes burned slow and deep-unshaken, unfathomable. The kind of fire that waits. That consumes in silence.