CHAPTER 113: FOLLOW ME FOR LUNCH

Beauty dragged her exhausted body back to the CEO’s office just before lunchtime, beads of sweat glistening on her neck.

After Laura had been yanked down from her high horse and thoroughly intimidated, the once-arrogant heiress had cooperated meekly with the team to wrap up the morning’s workload.

All in all, it had been a surprisingly smooth outcome.

Beauty suspected Laura was still reeling from the shock—probably never expecting her to pull such a bold move.

Truth be told, she herself had been pushed to the brink by the spoiled princess’s antics.

Where she’d mustered the strength and courage to put the girl in her place, she had no idea.

Looking back, even she was impressed by her own audacity.

Lucas sat in his chair, barely glancing up when she pushed the door open.

His voice was icy.

"Morning tasks done?"

"All done.

You haven’t ordered lunch yet, right?

Any restaurant preference today?

I’ll place the order."

This was the workplace, after all.

Every word and action carried the weight of deference—he was her boss, the one who held the purse strings.

One wrong move, one misplaced word, and she risked setting him off, leading to a dreaded pay cut.

With her meager salary, how many deductions could she even afford?

So much for standing up to bullies.

The once-unyielding Beauty had been forced to dull her edges, bending to survive under someone else’s roof.

"Today, we’re eating out.

My treat."

Oh no.

A sinking feeling settled in her gut.

Lucas’s sudden gentleness caught Beauty completely off guard.

Though he did have his occasional moments of tenderness, those were usually reserved for when he’d been drinking or wanted something from her.

What on earth had gotten into him this time?

His uncharacteristic warmth made her skin crawl.

She almost wanted to reach out and adjust his metaphorical crooked tie—this version of him was just too unsettling.

"What’s wrong—I mean... what brings on the sudden invitation to lunch?"

Beauty hesitated for half a second before voicing the question gnawing at her.

If she was going to die today, she at least wanted to know why.

Lucas idly adjusted his cufflinks, long fingers toying with the fabric.

His sharp brows lifted slightly as he drawled, "Just felt like having company for a meal.

Got a problem with that?"

If heaven granted her ten extra lives, she might’ve dared to say yes, she did have a problem with it.

But as things stood...

"I already promised Sarah I’d have lunch with her."

"I’ll call her."

His reply came swift and decisive, leaving no room for negotiation.

Well, if the big boss himself was treating her to a meal—and it wasn’t like she could refuse—she might as well enjoy it.

No point overthinking things.

"Alright then.

Let me just change into flats. Any restaurant preference?

I’ll make the reservation."

Beauty rubbed her sore arms as she spoke.

After a morning of nonstop work, her body ached like she’d just hauled bricks at a construction site.

Especially her feet—they were probably blistered again.

"You pick the restaurant.

Just send me the address later, and I’ll have the driver take me there.

And from now on, you don’t have to wear high heels in my office."

"Really?

That’s amazing!"

Beauty’s face instantly lit up with joy.

After all, her job mostly involved running errands, constantly going up and down the building.

Even with elevators, wearing those towering heels left her feet sore and exhausted.

Most of the assistants in the office wore stilettos, so she had always assumed Lucas had some rule requiring his staff to wear high heels.

You know how those old-fashioned men tend to have a thing for that.

Who knew Lucas could be so reasonable?

She was beyond thrilled!

Maybe she should stop calling him a pervert from now on. ——

At the Western restaurant, Beauty had already called ahead to place their order.

By the time they stepped into the private dining room, servers were already bringing out dish after dish.

The table was practically groaning under the weight of all the delicious food.

She had to resist drooling—but in front of Lucas, she had to at least pretend to be ladylike.

Otherwise, he’d surely scold her for wasting all those etiquette lessons.

After all, she was dining with New York’s most sought-after CEO.

She couldn’t embarrass him.

The servers’ eyes lingered on Lucas with the same intensity she reserved for the braised pork belly in front of her—full of undisguised longing.

Lucas preferred to dine without unnecessary attendants hovering around.

Once all the dishes were served, he noticed the waitresses lingering nearby.

With a detached tone, he said, "You may leave.

I don’t like being disturbed while eating."

"Of course, Mr. Marson!

Enjoy your meal!"

Though visibly disappointed, they forced their brightest smiles, gave a slight bow, and reluctantly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them with lingering hesitation.

From start to finish, Lucas never once glanced their way.

Yet each of them maintained a picture-perfect, eight-teeth smile and poised posture, as if auditioning for some imperial harem—desperate not to falter in the slightest.

"I heard you gave Laura a lesson today."

*Thud.*

A piece of braised pork belly tumbled onto the table.

Beauty seriously considered spearing it with her fork and plopping it back into her bowl—after all, Grandpa had always taught her that food dropped for less than a second was still perfectly edible.

But one glance at Lucas’s icy demeanor made her reconsider.

Her eyelids twitched slightly as she mourned the loss of that succulent morsel in silence.

"Why didn’t you ask how *she* bullied *us* today?"

Setting down her chopsticks, Beauty fixed him with a solemn expression.

She wasn’t the type to tattle or stab others in the back.

But if someone came at her with a knife—and even handed her the blade—she’d at least make a symbolic jab or two.

Anything less would be an insult to the weapon itself.

Lucas curled his lips into a faint smile, his eyes glinting with frost.

Taking a sip of juice, he remarked coolly, "I know Laura’s temperament—spoiled rotten by her mother and your father.

But honestly, you might be the only one bold enough to cross her.

She’s not the type to let things slide."

"I know," Beauty replied coldly, her voice edged with defiance.

"She’ll definitely come for revenge, and I’m not afraid.

From the moment I stepped into the Marson family, she’s had it out for me anyway."

She wasn’t some pushover who’d let others walk all over her.

If there was already bad blood between them, what difference would a little more make?

A flicker of amusement passed through Lucas’s eyes.

"You know what I admire most about you?"

Huh?

Beauty blinked in surprise.

She had no idea there was anything about her that Lucas could possibly admire.

She perked up, genuinely curious now.

"What I admire most is your tenacity."

Tenacity?

She nearly scoffed.

Wasn’t that just a polite way of saying she was too stubborn to know when to quit?

What tenacity did she even have?

It wasn’t like she had anything to lose—that was the only reason she could afford to fight back.

When you had nothing, you had nothing to fear losing.