Wicked Husband-Chapter 147 - 146

Accusing him of being a spy for Kalpen was premature. If Bonaparte were executed on such a charge, the remaining spies would surely scatter.

To execute Count Bonaparte, Cesare decided to use himself as bait.

"I can’t do this."

When Michele heard the plan, her face went ghostly pale. As white as a sheet, she dropped to her knees before Cesare.

"I can’t, Your Excellency. I absolutely cannot. Just kill me instead."

Half-mad, Michele begged as the other knights strongly objected. Lotan, his face tense, spoke first.

"It’s too dangerous. A gunshot wound has too many variables."

Even if Michele avoided a fatal hit, there was no guarantee the wound would heal properly. If luck wasn’t on their side, complications like infections could lead to irreversible damage.

Diego and Senon also voiced their concerns. Michele, still kneeling and dazed, was too stunned to respond as she listened to her comrades.

Cesare waited for the knights to finish voicing their objections, then pulled out a pistol. He removed one of his leather gloves and aimed the muzzle at his open palm.

What happened next was beyond explanation.

Before the stunned knights, Cesare remained composed. He looked down at Michele and called her name.

"Michele."

The low voice snapped Michele out of her stupor. The calm, almost reassuring tone of her name forced her to focus. To his surprise, Cesare wore a faint smile.

"If not you, then who else would shoot me?"

Michele squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to escape the unavoidable future where she would have no choice but to pull the trigger on Cesare.

"D@mn it, d@mn it...!"

Her hands trembled as she lit a cigarette, muttering curses under her breath. It might be the last cigarette she ever smoked, she thought. She puffed nervously, repeatedly checking the gun—despite having already checked it countless times.

When the cigarette burned down to the filter, Michele tried to dispose of it in her portable ashtray—only to curse again.

"D@mn it!"

The ashtray was already full of cigarette butts. Frustrated, she shoved the stub inside anyway, then took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. The dark clouds, once distant, had crept ominously closer.

A competent assassin had been procured under Bonaparte’s name—someone renowned for their skill with a gun. This assassin had been hired to kill Cesare, but Michele would act first.

By staging an attack, he planned to frame the hired assassin, who would then be captured and blamed for the "assassination attempt on the Grand Duke of Erzet."

Since the assassin would appear to have been hired by Count Bonaparte, the count would naturally be implicated as the mastermind and face execution.

The audacity of a grand duke being shot meant someone had to be held accountable. The nobles would waste no time cutting off Bonaparte as a scapegoat.

It was the perfect plan to eliminate Bonaparte—except for the glaring downside that Cesare had to be shot.

Michele recalled what she had witnessed before—a strange, almost miraculous phenomenon. Even if she made a mistake, Cesare wouldn’t die. That was the only thought she clung to as her mind raced.

Wiping her sweat-drenched palms on her clothes, Michele steadied herself. She wiped her brow with the green camouflage cloth she wore for disguise, then settled flat against a tree trunk, her rifle firmly in hand.

Slowly, Michele inhaled and exhaled, calming her erratic heartbeat. Her once trembling body settled into a state of eerie stillness. She fixed her gaze firmly on her target.

Through the flickering flames of the grand altar, she caught sight of Eileen glancing furtively at Cesare. The brief moment made her smile, but she quickly steeled her expression.

Holding her breath, she silently counted down to the perfect moment. Then, without hesitation, she pulled the trigger. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

BANG!

The first gunshot rang out, its echo hanging in the air.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Eileen’s eyes took in every detail: the bullet piercing Cesare’s shoulder, the scent of blood filling the air, and his body collapsing to the ground.

She couldn’t breathe. Or rather, she forgot how. As Cesare fell, she forced her frozen body to move.

"Cesare, Cesare!"

She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn’t come out. It was as though her vocal cords had been pierced alongside him, leaving only hoarse gasps.

Her vision blurred, then sharpened again. Knights and soldiers swarmed around them, trying to secure the area, but the chaos felt distant and muffled. She couldn’t process the noise.

It was only then that Eileen realized she was trembling, tears streaming down her face, soaking her skin.

Pale as a sheet, her first instinct was to check the wound. His dark hunting outfit concealed it at first glance, but the left shoulder was quickly becoming soaked with blood.

Eileen fumbled for a handkerchief, intent on pressing it to the wound to stem the bleeding. But before she could, a hand stopped her. She looked up into Cesare’s face, her eyes brimming with tears.

He wordlessly guided her hand to press down on his shoulder. In moments, the small handkerchief was soaked through with crimson.

"Eileen."

"...Yes?"

"Are you still keeping a diary?"

The incongruous question didn’t fit the coppery stench of blood thick in the air. Unable to speak, Eileen nodded. Cesare squinted slightly, then offered a faint smile.

"What a bother... I suppose today’s events will make it into the record as well."

Eileen couldn’t answer, her gaze fixed on him, her eyes trembling. Cesare gently brushed his left hand across her cheek and whispered:

"Don’t cry, Eileen."

From that moment, her memory became fragmented. She didn’t faint, but the overwhelming tension shattered her recollection of events into pieces.

Despite the gunshot wound, Cesare did not utter a single groan. He calmly issued orders to the soldiers, using his own hand to apply pressure to his bleeding shoulder.

At his command, the soldiers apprehended the shooter and began a thorough search of the tents belonging to every noble present. The unprecedented situation left the nobles too stunned to protest, forcing them into reluctant compliance.

Cesare ordered the entire forest surrounding the hunting grounds to be sealed off until the mastermind was revealed. Then, he announced he would return to the duchy for treatment.