Page 22 of The Beast’s Unwanted Duchess (Icy Dukes #1)

Victor stepped into the ring, feeling the familiar adrenaline surge through him. He squared his shoulders, settling into a fighting stance. Andrew mirrored him, and they began to walk in a circle in the ring.

"So, I heard you’re back into society," Andrew asked, throwing the first jab.

Victor easily dodged it. "You could say that."

"Do the rumors really bother you that much?" Andrew asked. "You have never paid any mind to them no matter how many times I ask you to address them. There have been rumors about you for years now. This is the first time you are actively working to curb them."

Victor had known Andrew for years. They had attended the same university together, where a shared friendship formed between them.

Over time, Andrew became the only person who truly understood Victor, knowing every detail about his troubled past. To the outside world, Andrew was a charming gentleman, effortlessly captivating the attention of ladies with his wit and charm.

Yet Victor was aware of the deeper scars that lay beneath the surface.

It was probably the reason their friendship thrived; they both had difficult stories to tell.

"They said I killed my wife," Victor said. "That I let her die a slow, painful death. Do you know how many people confronted me about it? It was frustrating. I figured the sooner I fixed it, the better."

"You even danced with her at the ball," Andrew said. "Three times! The rumor spreading now is that you both probably had a secret affair. That’s why you got married so quickly."

Victor shrugged his shoulders. "That is much better. I can live with that."

"I must say, Her Grace was rather stunning last night," Andrew remarked, a teasing glint in his eye. "Quite beautiful, I must say."

"Don’t talk about my wife," Victor replied, throwing a punch that landed squarely on Andrew’s jaw. Andrew staggered back and winced.

"All right, now I know something is bothering you," Andrew said. "That punch was weak, even for rusty old you. Why did you decide to come here today?"

Victor reluctantly dropped his hands and let out a loud sigh. "I told Alice about my father."

Andrew’s eyes widened. "You told her everything?"

"Not everything, but enough," he said. "More than enough actually. I probably said too much and now I don’t know how I am supposed to feel about it."

"You care about her," Andrew said, almost as if he didn’t believe the words he spoke. "You actually have feelings for her now."

Victor wanted to respond – to deny it – but deep down, he knew there was truth in Andrew’s statement. It was hard not to develop feelings for some who saw beyond his carefully crafted facade. Someone who wasn’t afraid to look at him or speak her mind.

Someone so beautiful.

"You realize you have never told anyone else about your father," Andrew pointed out.

"There’s a reason you’re the only person that knows," Victor said. "Why would I willingly burden anyone with that kind of information? I don’t want pity. But again, I don’t know why I told her. It just...she asked, and I answered. I wanted to answer."

"That’s a good thing, Victor," Andrew said. "She’s your wife. She of all people should know everything about you."

"Come on, Andrew, what are you saying?" Victor asked and threw both hands into the air. "You know I cannot give her a happy life. I am not built for love, or that kind of affection. I cannot give what I did not get."

"Who says?" Andrew questioned. "Life doesn’t always have to be black and white, Victor.

You are letting the past, which you claim to have let go of, define your present.

Right now, in your home, you have someone that could offer you the love and support that you very desperately need. Open up to her."

"I cannot do that," Victor retorted, bringing both hands to his hips. "She came into my bed last night. I woke up to find her sleeping next to me."

"What!" Andrew asked and chuckled. "Oh, she is bold."

"It’s not like that," Victor said. "I don’t know why she did it, and frankly, I don’t think I want to ask."

Andrew took a step forward. "Did it ever occur to you that perhaps, she might be lonely? She lived as a married woman for two years, without seeing her husband. You live in a big estate. It can get boring if she does not have company. You have also refused to give her children, so don’t be surprised when she hovers around you, seeking conversation.

You of all people should understand what it is like to be all alone. "

Victor began to pace. "It is for her own good. She was better off when I wasn’t there. She never dared attempt to—" he paused. "She is better off without me."

"I don’t think she was trying to jump," Andrew said in a low tone. "I think you misunderstood that. She was probably just sitting."

"You weren’t there," Victor said and shook his head. "You didn’t see her by the window. You didn’t see her face when she stood next to me at the altar either. I saved her life by leaving. She had space, and she will continue to have that space. I will not be the cause of her death. Not her too."

"Victor, your mother?—"

"Andrew!" Victor said sternly, feeling the heat in his stomach rise to his throat. "Don’t."

Andrew mellowed and nodded, understanding that Victor did not want him to go there. He paused, letting the silence stretch between them, before finally lifting his hands with a slight grin.

"Come on," he said. "Arms up. You came here to lose to me, did you not? Let’s get it over with."

Victor feigned a smile and raised his fists, resuming his stance. He felt a heavy weight settle on his chest as he continued to spar with Andrew. He realized that while Alice’s warmth had begun to penetrate the walls he had built around himself, it would be best to give her some distance.

He didn’t want her to become too attached...to inadvertently become entwined in the shadows that haunted him. The darkness of his past was a burden he had learned to carry alone, and he was determined that it wouldn’t define her future.

It was the most merciful choice for both of them.