The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes

Chapter 29: Chapter 29- separate rooms

A deep red mark quickly appeared on Janet’s pale wrist.

She winced, brows knitting in pain.

When her eyes met the fiery ones glaring down at her, her heart welled with grievance, and her voice rose a few notches,

"What right do you have to control me? Who even are you to me?"

Just thinking about how he had paraded around with Elvira like they were inseparable made Janet burn with fury.

They had barely known each other—was this his true nature all along?

She remembered their first encounter, before she even married Philip.

He had seen straight through her mask in an instant.

What she didn’t know then was that, on that drunken night, they had already spent a night under the same roof.

A man like him, glowing with charm, would naturally be surrounded by adoring women.

"Have you forgotten your identity, woman?"

Charles’s voice was low and dangerous.

"You are Philip’s woman!"

His grip tightened, and the pain made her brows pinch tighter, but she didn’t utter a word of complaint.

Damn this woman. She didn’t even have the decency to apologize!

"Yes, I am Philip’s woman. Not yours! So you don’t get to lecture me!"

Janet tore her arm free, her voice cold with defiance.

She wasn’t sure if it was her words that made Charles pause, but in that brief second of distraction, she pushed him aside and strode away.

In the company, she had put up with his constant scrutiny.

But now? She’d done nothing wrong to the Elwin family.

What gave him the right to treat her this way?

That one sentence—not your woman—rang in Charles’s head like a siren.

His mind went blank for a few seconds.

Then, without a single thought, he reached out, grabbed Janet, and yanked her back into his arms.

Before she could even react, his lips crushed onto hers in a deep, searing kiss.

The moment she’d uttered those words, something inside him snapped.

She was his.

From the moment he first saw her, drunk and asleep beside him, he hadn’t touched her—but perhaps even then, she had already belonged to him.

"Mmph... let—go!"

Janet’s eyes widened in shock.

This kiss wasn’t like the last time, when his dominance had left her heart racing.

This one was filled with punishment, with fury.

His lips ravaged hers, biting and pressing hard.

She could feel the anger radiating off him.

But why was he so angry?

"Charles, are you crazy?"

She tried to dodge, but he wouldn’t let go.

One hand held her waist tightly, the other greedy for more of her sweetness.

They were still at the Elwin estate—still outside! And their relationship was still uncle and niece-in-law!

Janet didn’t understand.

Where had all his usual calm and self-control gone?

This impulsive man before her was a stranger to her!

"Let me go! I’m your sister-in-law!"

She shoved him away with all her strength.

Her lips throbbed from the force of the kiss, tasting of blood and shame.

She didn’t even know if the metallic tang in her mouth was from herself—or from him.

Her words were like a ticking time bomb.

The moment they hit, Charles froze.

He released her instantly.

His handsome face twisted with a storm of emotions.

And yet, his longing for her remained fierce.

As soon as she was free, Janet turned and fled toward the North Garden, her heart a tangled mess of fear and injustice.

How could he do this to her?

"Philip..."

She pressed a trembling hand to her swollen lips—

and when she looked up, she saw him.

Philip.

Sitting in his wheelchair, directly facing the garden.

From where he sat,

he must have seen everything.

Philip’s sapphire-blue eyes lingered on Janet’s swollen lips.

A knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

But then his gaze shifted, moving past Janet—to the tall figure standing not far behind her.

"You’re back?" he said calmly. "Push me inside."

There was no trace of emotion on his face.

As if the scene that had just played out in the garden hadn’t fazed him at all.

He spoke to Janet in the same even tone as always.

"Oh..."

Janet hadn’t expected such composure from him.

But beneath his calm exterior, she knew there was a bitter truth.

This outcome... he had already foreseen.

He had no right to blame her—not really.

She quickly wiped her lips with the back of her hand and then silently pushed his wheelchair toward the villa.

Behind them, Charles cursed under his breath, tearing his tie loose in frustration.

He turned and strode toward the main house.

Ever since splitting up with Elvira, he had rushed home just to see how long she would stay with that man.

Two and a half hours.

Each second had crawled by like an eternity.

And when he finally saw her appear—his anger surged, uncontrollable.

He had always been a man of restraint, always in control.

But whenever it came to Janet,

his self-control shattered into pieces.

The only person he truly felt guilty toward—was Philip.

That’s why, at the sound of Philip’s name, he was able to drag himself back from the edge of madness.

Because this woman, who in truth belonged to him, was—legally—Philip’s wife...

"My lord?"

The butler had been watching Derrick’s expression as he stared out the study window at the garden below.

Something about the tension in the air told him something was very wrong.

"Charles is far too fixated on that woman," Derrick said flatly.

His fists, which had been clenched tightly, loosened—then balled up again.

They had been standing in the study ever since Charles returned.

The moment Charles had kissed Janet—that forceful, possessive kiss—Derrick had seen everything.

His eyes, always cold, now glinted with something darker—sharper.

It was time to stop pretending.

Time to stop turning a blind eye.

What belonged to Philip—not even Charles had the right to take.

When dinner came around, Janet hadn’t expected to see Charles again.

Different place, different mood—

but inside the Elwin estate, they were nothing more than "uncle and niece-in-law."

Seated across from her at the same long dining table,

Charles acted as though nothing had happened earlier.

Janet had no choice but to follow his lead.

But the more he pretended not to care, the more anxious Janet felt.

It wasn’t just the fear that Charles brought out in her—

even Derrick’s gaze had become... different.

More dangerous.

It was clear that Charles and Philip were very close.

They exchanged casual remarks over dinner with a natural ease.

The bond between them—unshakable.

The unspoken understanding in their eyes...

Janet had never experienced that with Elvira.

Throughout the entire meal, Charles never looked at Janet again.

But the lingering tension between them didn’t go unnoticed—especially not by Derrick.

When the meal ended, Charles and Philip went off in high spirits to play chess,

but Derrick stopped Janet just as she was about to leave the dining hall.

"You—come with me."

Janet froze.

She had always feared Derrick’s gaze.

It wasn’t cold like Charles’s—it was darker, more twisted.

It carried something rigid, something unpredictable.

As soon as she stepped into his study,

the air seemed to freeze around her.

And then—

his question hit her like a bolt of ice:

"Have you and Philip always slept in separate rooms?"