When I Got My Senses Back

Chapter IV: You Call Me A Fool But, You Are The Real Fool! (4)

Once she was gone, Garrett’s mask fell away. His eyes sharpened, his voice was mocking as he crouched beside Reginald. “Reginald, give up. No matter what you do, Christine’s heart will never turn to you. She may not care for men, but she will always favor me. She could never love a fool. No one could.”

His innocent eyes now dripped poison. “I’ve been poisoning her mind against you for years. You, a fool, could never compare. Even now, I’m shaping her view of you before you can recover.”

But Reginald reached up, gripping Garrett’s collar and pulling him close. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Did you fall for it?”

“What?” Garrett blinked.

“I said… did you fall for my act too?”

“You—!” Garrett froze. This fool had understood what he said…. and replied!?

Reginald gave a cold smile. “You’ve been dancing to my tune, little brother. You think your end goal is just to ruin my marriage? I know you want Christine to hate me enough to kill me, don’t you? You want to become heir to the Belmont family and the Alexanders through her. Isn’t that right?”

He grabbed Garrett’s throat. “Too bad for you. I’ve only been pretending to be a fool for eleven years.”

It was a lie. He’d only just recovered. But games like this, games of lies and deceit, it took two to play.

“I risked everything pretending to be a disgusting idiot, and yet Christine won’t divorce me. She won’t kill me even if you begged. Garrett, tell me: in her heart, am I not more important than you?”

Garrett’s face turned red with shame and fury. He wanted to protest, to call it a lie, but deep down, he felt something had changed in Reginald.

Impossible!

The doctors said he was a fool. Reginald once ate dog poop thinking it was jam. Could that have all been an act?!

Even when he was being whipped today, he still acted like a dimwit. Could that too be part of the game?

Garrett didn't believe!

“Stop dreaming, madman. You’re still a fool. You’re just repeating lines you must have heard from movies,” Garret spat angrily. “Christine only married you out of pity. She doesn’t kill you because watching you suffer is better enough!”

With that, Garrett stormed off in polished brogues.

Reginald laughed darkly. “No, Garrett. You all are the fools, not me.”

The landline suddenly rang and Reginald wasn't so far from it. He crawled all the way there, stretched his hand upward and grabbed the house phone. "Hello?"

"Lord Reginald Belmont?!"

"Caesar," Just that one name he uttered was all he needed. Reginald felt his eyes water. Just for how long has he been a fool?! What had happened to him empire? Probably fallen!

Suddenly, the other voice spoke. "It's been years, Lord Reginald. But permit me to not waste your time and report today's summation to you.."

Reginald gulped. His secret empire was still alive? Maybe on the brink of dying. "Report."

"It's a hundred and seventy six million, Lord Reginald."

Reginald: "....."

That was.... massive.

Eleven years ago, he started a secret business empire, aiming at a conglomerate in years to come but they never made above two thousand dollars daily. Now....

Reginald: "Come pick me up from the Belmont estate and don't bother calling the house line again, I'm married and no longer stay at Belmont Estate."

Now, it was Caesar's turn to be speechless.

Caesar: "....." The boss was married?!!!!

**

At the grand Alexander estate, dusk had settled, and a faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air.

Christine reclined on a carved sandalwood couch, her brows slightly furrowed, her expression troubled. Scenes of earlier flashed through her mind—Rihanna striking with her whip on Reginald, each lash cruel and merciless, as if she were venting hatred on a slave she had despised from birth.

She had believed that marrying into the Belmont family would bring Reginald a life of wealth and glory. Who could’ve expected he would end up like this?

She recalled the way that woman addressed the "little fool," the scolding, the whip… and the utter contempt in her eyes.

“So it was all a lie,” Christine murmured.

Just then, a noise came from the room next door, where Reginald now resided. Because he was too clingy, Christine had relegated him to the storage room next to hers to avoid constant disturbance.

She heard the newly hired maid calling, “Little Reggie, it's time.”

*

“Time for what?” Reginald frowned. Did she just call him Little Reggie?

“It’s time to run Madam’s bath,” the maid replied. “Then you’ll help in the kitchen with dinner too.”

“Me?” Reginald pointed to himself in disbelief. “You want me to draw a bath for that woman? And help cook her dinner? Do I look like some female servant?”

He nearly choked on his own breath. The house was filled with many servants, yet he was being treated like one?

“I’m the master of this house, the Madam’s husband. Why on earth should I be doing these things?”

The maid lowered her head and softly explained, “Little Reggie, you volunteered to do these tasks for Madam. You said you wanted her to be your best friend and play with you so you would win her over by doing these things.”

Reginald rubbed his forehead, a dark look on his face. He muttered bitterly to himself, “Reginald Belmont… what have you been reduced to? How could you forsake the authority that comes with your mighty name?”

Once, his name had meant something—just eleven years ago, even in youth, he was a figure of renown. Now, look at him.

“I won’t do it anymore,” he declared coldly, waving his hand dismissively. “You handle the bath and dinner yourself.”

“Yes, Little Reggie,” the maid responded, though inwardly she was startled. Something felt different about him since he returned covered in injuries, after he ran away two days ago. Had he… regained his senses?

Just as she was leaving, he suddenly called out, “Wait.”

She turned back.

“From now on, address me properly. I am Master Belmont… not that ridiculous name.”

The maid gasped, then quickly bowed. “Yes, Master Belmont.”

Moments later, Garrett appeared, dressed casually in a white bathrobe. Seeing Reginald, he smirked. “Don’t you usually draw baths for me and Christine when I visit? Get up, dummy. Make sure it’s jasmine mint this time.”

The maid began to reply, “Mr. Garrett, I’ll prepare the….”

But Reginald cut in, a sharp grin forming at the corner of his mouth. “I…. Will…”

He swallowed the words he wanted to say. He wanted to say: “go screw an egg you child of a whore!” but he knew better than to do that now.

His eyes narrowed. His half-brother showing up in his wife's house… dressed like that? Was this what had been happening before he got his senses back?

He hadn't wanted to keep doing servant’s work, but Garrett walking in like that, flaunting the bathrobe, clearly taunting him…

Fine. Whether or not they were actually cheating on him, it didn’t matter. He would give them, his ‘wife’ and his ‘brother’, a little surprise of his own.