MGN | Chapter 3

“Yves!”

The man called by the crown prince naturally took a seat next to Maël. Standing beside him, it was clear. The man in the black suit, as if it had swallowed all colors, was astonishingly tall. Maël looked up at his brazen face and then at the piece of paper on the table.

“Are you sure about this? This isn’t even poker. If it’s not the number Maël picked, you’ll lose everything.”

“Losing once might not be so bad.”

The man’s insolent informal speech drew uncomfortable glances. Crown Prince Felix had never allowed even his lifelong friend Charles to speak informally. Philippe was the one who spoke up.

“Who… was it again?”

“Brother! Are you really that clueless? It’s Yves. The new executive director of the Riviera Hotel chain.”

So, that’s who people were whispering about earlier.

The executive director didn’t seem embarrassed by the attention. Instead, he casually nodded towards Maël and asked calmly.

“Is this side really that amazing?”

“He’s only been here a short while, so he might not know. Maël’s nickname is ‘Lucky Charm’ for a reason.”

“Lucky Charm.”

“If he had a hobby in gambling, he’d probably be more suited to being a professional gambler than a lawyer.”

Felix was excited, like a child showing off a fascinating toy. Despite the chatter about him, Maël only looked at the piece of paper in front of him instead of the chips. His pale hand picked it up again.

“I’m not that unlucky myself.”

The man said casually and asked Maël.

“Where should I bet?”

Informal speech close to disrespect. Throwing around enormous sums like charity. The striking scent and unrealistic appearance. An unfitting title.

Above all, the deliberate noise at odd moments and the rude comments.

Maël didn’t want to get involved with this man in any way.

“Trusting yourself is probably best, after all.”

Yves curled his lips at the curt reply.

“Even if the secret’s out, will it stay a secret?”

The expression he had been maintaining broke. As Maël glared, the man lightly tossed the piece of paper. The fifty-thousand-euro paper fluttered down onto the number 0.

“Let’s see whose luck is better.”

Ignoring even the basic rule of betting with chips, the man said, and Felix gestured to the dealer.

“No more bets.”

With the declaration of the end of betting, the metal ball rolled on the wheel. It bounced lightly over the red, black, and green numbers before slipping over the boundary.

Tuk, tuk, tuduk.

Time passed, and the roulette stopped. As the metal ball settled, cheers and exclamations erupted around the table.

“I knew it!”

7.

Out of 37 numbers, the ball stopped in front of number 7. People were amazed by the incredible prediction and added their comments.

“Isn’t this a scam? How lucky do you have to be for this?”

“We should assign a staff member to check if he’s colluding with the dealer.”

“Maël, what’s next? What number do you think is good next?”

Perhaps because of the chips they received, greedy eyes turned to Maël. Maël smiled faintly. He didn’t want to stay here any longer. It was uncomfortable in many ways.

“I still have work today. I should have left early.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah. He said he has a mountain of divorce papers to look over. The sooner he works, the sooner those terrible marriages end.”

Manon helped in a lively tone. Felix thought for a moment and then waved his hand.

“Well, it’s no fun if Maël stays too long. It’s only fun when someone loses, but if everyone wins, what’s the point? Maël, go help those Cinderellas.”

“The knight of Cinderella… has to leave before midnight.”

Philippe added, and the gathered people chuckled.

It was always a tiresome place. Especially when he met Charles’s eyes, who was gleefully gathering the chips despite the relationship breaking down because of his own desires.

“Your luck is something else.”

The only man who hadn’t won in that round said.

Even that simple admiration couldn’t be laughed off. Yves alternated between looking at Charles and Maël, curling his lips in a mocking smile.

* * *

“Maël.”

At the call, Maël took his eyes off the monitor and removed his glasses. Diane Croix, a partner lawyer at Law Firm 377 and Maël’s boss, waved a document.

“About the marriage contract for the prince. Did you check the name? Wasn’t Manon’s last name supposed to include ‘Moon’?”

Manon Juliette Montmatier.

The ‘Moon’ part of Montmatier was highlighted. Maël nodded.

“That’s her legal name.”

“Right? Jacques kept checking. He thought it was a typo because he kept hearing ‘Manon Montmatier’ everywhere.”

“She said she’d use it as a stage name for articles and public activities.”

“Without ‘Moon’? Did the royal family ask for that? Is it really necessary?”

“It’s probably better to have a familiar name, after all.”

It wasn’t easy for an ordinary person to blend into the grand ducal family, and it was even more challenging if their mixed race made them stand out.

While the name was perfectly Monaco-style, the surname was different. ‘Moon’ was her Korean mother’s surname, and ‘Montmatier’ was her Monacan father’s. After marriage, the couple combined their surnames, and the entire family used it, but now there were no parents left to insist on it.

“If her father had known, he wouldn’t have combined the surnames.”

That is, if he had known his daughter would be engaged to the eldest son of the Monaco Grand Duke at twenty-six, becoming a mixed-race princess consort and attracting all sorts of attention disguised as interest.

“I’m planning to review it once more and send it to the royal family. It needs to be agreed upon soon. The wedding isn’t far off.”

“Do you think it will be agreed upon this time?”

“We have to try. How could we ask Manon to sign something like that? It’s fortunate her brother is handling it thoroughly. Oh, and Maël, there’s a consultation later. Can you handle it? They specifically requested you.”

“Requested me? What is it about?”

“A paternity lawsuit.”

Paternity.

It was a familiar case for a family law lawyer in a town overflowing with millionaires. While there were issues with overly excited clients and complex paperwork, a DNA test usually provided a clear yes or no. It didn’t drag on like a divorce case or require constant tension throughout the process.

“I like those. Did they mention anything? A statement or memo?”

“They seem a bit reckless. I talked to them, but they didn’t say much. I asked them to prepare and bring something for the consultation.”

It didn’t seem like it would take much time. Diane opened her mouth again as Maël nodded.

“But Maël, are you okay these days? Any trouble with the team?”

“Trouble?”

“I saw the director briefly. Antoine was talking about you.”

This was probably why partner lawyer Diane had come all the way here.

Antoine Duverger, the director lawyer of Law Firm 377, was Charles’s father.

[I love you, really, there’s no one but you for me, Maël. One mistake can’t represent all the love I’ve shown you…]

The messages Charles had disgustingly sent over the past few days were ignored and unread. He had sent his secretary to find out what business he had, loitering around the family law team floor during work hours. He had also completely delayed his departure to make him give up waiting.

Since that didn’t work, he was trying something else.

“I’m good with the team. As far as I know.”

The trouble was only with the director’s son. Diane shrugged after thinking for a moment at the answer.

“Then it’s fine. I told him he couldn’t find a lawyer like you anywhere else when he was talking nonsense about rejecting clients.”

“Diane, about me turning away consultations.”

“It’s been explained. Anyway, it’s funny. I was surprised to hear about trouble when there are only a few people in the family law team.”

Cutting off the conversation, Diane smiled knowingly. Before Maël could respond, she checked her watch and waved her hand.

“I’m leaving. Oh, but Maël, don’t turn away today’s consultation. They’re wealthy. Incredibly handsome, too.”

“Didn’t you only talk on the phone?”

“You can tell just by the voice.”

It was Diane’s habit to add a comment about the client. Even so, such a positive prediction was rare. Maël chuckled and put his glasses back on.

There was plenty of work to do. He organized evidence of psychological abuse from three years’ worth of messages and replied to a message from a tennis queen contemplating a prenuptial agreement.

He contacted the opposing lawyer after a client’s child, under joint custody, didn’t come home. After finishing the conversation demanding the child be returned immediately, his secretary Jacques knocked on the door.

“Lawyer, the consultation with Mr. Valois is in ten minutes. Paternity.”

With that, Maël took off his glasses and grabbed his jacket, heading to the consultation room.

As soon as he sat down in the consultation room and took a breath, the door opened. Maël stood up quickly, putting on his most trustworthy smile.

The moment he confirmed the client, Maël’s smile awkwardly twisted as he extended his hand.

“Hello, Mr. Valois…”

Yves.

He was the man who hit the jackpot at the casino a few days ago and lost it all on roulette. Casually entering, he glanced at the extended hand but didn’t take it. Instead, he plopped down in the chair and spoke.

“I’m planning to file a paternity lawsuit.”

Well, alright. Maël didn’t dislike clients who got straight to the point. So he withdrew his hand and calmly observed the client.

The man was rude. That was something Maël could predict the moment he saw his face.

The man wasn’t agitated. That was a bit unusual. Considering the lawsuit he wanted to file, it was strange he wasn’t trembling with betrayal or shouting in excitement.

‘What’s going on?’

As if answering Maël’s question, Yves leaned back in his chair with an oddly calm expression.

“I think I’ll need some of your extraordinary luck for this lawsuit.”