Chapter 122: Back to new York - Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire  Book2 - NovelsTime

Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2

Chapter 122: Back to new York

Author: Zaroni_Evas_1104
updatedAt: 2025-11-02

CHAPTER 122: BACK TO NEW YORK

Even as she settled into her airplane seat, she couldn’t help replaying the earlier scene in her mind, her lips curling into a suppressed giggle.

That subtle reaction, of course, didn’t escape someone’s keen notice.

A low, amused voice reached her ears, laced with unmistakable pride: "Feeling like you’ve completely outshined everyone?

Like you’re just naturally better in every way?"

Beauty: "..." How could a man be so shameless?

He wasn’t praising her—he was clearly hinting at his own... *ahem*... superiority over other men!

The plane touched down at New York Airport.

The moment they stepped off the plane, the sleek, elongated Rolls-Royce belonging to Lucas came into view.

The driver spotted them immediately, stepping out to retrieve their luggage.

Glancing behind them, the driver asked casually, "Wasn’t Miss Laura traveling with you?

I don’t see her."

Lucas, already seated in the car, lifted his gaze indifferently.

"She decided to stay a few more days."

The driver turned back with a polite smile.

"Shall we head to the villa first, Mr. Lucas, or go straight to the office?"

"Office first.

Take Beauty’s luggage back to the villa."

"What about me?

I’m not going back to the villa?" Beauty blinked up at him with hopeful eyes.

After last night’s... *exhausting* ordeal, her entire body felt like it had been dismantled and haphazardly reassembled.

All she wanted now was to collapse into bed and sleep for a week.

A sharp, icy glare shot her way, sending a shiver down her spine.

"The boss is already back at the office, and you, as his secretary, still want to go home and sleep?"

Lucas seemed to read her mind like an open book—when she was hungry, when she was sleepy, he always knew.

She couldn’t help but wonder if he had planted some kind of tracking device inside her.

The car pulled up in front of Marson Corporation’s headquarters.

Accompanying the boss on business trips was always comfortable—private jets, chauffeurs, no exhaustion whatsoever.

The only downside was the stifling atmosphere, mostly because Lucas’s presence was just too overpowering.

Who would’ve thought such good news awaited her upon returning?

The luxury brand Marson Corporation had recently acquired had completed all necessary procedures and was ready to launch.

As Lucas’s personal assistant, she was fortunate enough to attend the meeting, though her role was limited to serving tea, running errands, and quietly observing.

"Sarah, I’ll need you to put in extra effort for this subsidiary.

I want to see profits within three months—enough to outshine every other jewelry brand in the country."

Lucas’s gaze settled on Sarah, who was diligently taking notes.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

She had always assumed jewelry was her sole responsibility, but Marson Corporation had other luxury ventures—handbags, perfumes, and more.

Their profits consistently led the domestic market, and this latest acquisition only strengthened their dominance.

Though Marson Corporation’s brands had already expanded overseas, their core market remained domestic.

After all, the local market was more stable, with a well-established pricing system catering to mid-to-high-end consumers.

Jewelry, in particular, was a lucrative segment.

"Understood.

I’ll make sure Starlight rises to the top and becomes the No. 1 subsidiary."

The Sunshine brand had always performed well in the country, sticking to affordable, traditional designs.

But its jewelry styles had failed to keep up with trends, primarily appealing to middle-aged and elderly customers.

While profits were steady—thanks to the deep pockets of that demographic—the younger consumer base remained largely untapped.

Sarah looked up at Lucas and said calmly, "But we’ve replaced some designers at the subsidiary.

Currently, our design department can only handle Marson Corporation’s projects, and the new hires aren’t ready to take charge yet.

Does Mr. Lucas prefer direct external recruitment or having HR poach talent from other companies?"

Lucas’s sharp eyebrows furrowed slightly.

For the subsidiary, designers were the most crucial positions.

While other departments remained relatively stable, the design team desperately needed fresh blood.

Holding an hourglass in his hand, his eyes flickered with an inscrutable light.

Standing nearby, Beauty finally understood what people meant by "a ruler’s aura."

She held her breath, not daring to make a sound. Yet design was precisely what fascinated her.

After all, she’d graduated in that field, and Lucas had once promised she wouldn’t remain an errand-running assistant forever.

After several seconds of silence, he finally lifted his cold gaze.

"Designer recruitment is critical—I’ll oversee it personally.

Someone recommended a few designers to me recently.

I’ll arrange meetings with them at the company."

When the meeting ended, Beauty trailed after Lucas like an eager puppy, scurrying into his office to fetch tea and water, bustling about to serve him.

"Mr. Lucas, after such a long meeting, would you prefer coffee, tea, Juice or wine?"

Detecting a hint of sycophancy in her tone, Lucas’s slightly knitted brows suddenly relaxed.

He glanced at her with one raised eyebrow. "First, grind me a glass of wine.

Then brew a cup of tea. Oh, and wash a bowl of cherries for the coffee table."

Was he treating her like a maid now?

Beauty grumbled inwardly but had no choice—she needed his favor.

She refused to remain his office assistant forever, catering to his every whim by day and attending to him by night.

When will this drudgery ever end?

An assistant who didn’t aspire to be a designer wasn’t a true assistant.

After washing the cherries, she carefully arranged them into a large heart shape on a plate, then eagerly brewed a fresh cup of coffee for a certain someone.

Next, she took her time to make a glass of tea.

She could swear to the heavens—never in her life had she groveled to anyone like this.

For the sake of her future, she had to endure it all.

She was dangerously close to losing both her principles and self-respect.

"President Lucas, please try a cherry.

These are imported, air-flown just this morning.

How do they taste?"

Holding the plate out to him, she blinked her almond-shaped eyes expectantly, a sly glimmer flashing at the corners.

"My hands are full at the moment.

Why don’t you feed me?"

The man lounged on the sofa, one hand flipping through a financial magazine, the other resting behind his head.

He narrowed his eyes in lazy satisfaction.

Beauty gritted her teeth and stomped her foot inwardly, but she forced herself to swallow her irritation.

With a painfully artificial smile, she replied, "Since President Lucas’s hands are occupied, allow me to feed you."

The sycophantic act was almost too much for even her to stomach.

Yet she kept her smile radiant—like a brothel madam from ancient times spotting a wealthy patron.

He narrowed his eyes in lazy satisfaction.

Beauty gritted her teeth and stomped her foot inwardly, but she forced herself to swallow her irritation.

Next, she took her time to make a glass of tea.

She could swear to the heavens—never in her life had she groveled to anyone like this.

For the sake of her future, she had to endure it all.

She was dangerously close to losing both her principles and self-respect.

"President Lucas, please try a cherry.

These are imported, air-flown just this morning.

How do they taste?"

Holding the plate out to him, she blinked her almond-shaped eyes expectantly, a sly glimmer flashing at the corners.

"My hands are full at the moment.

Why don’t you feed me?"

The man lounged on the sofa, one hand flipping through a financial magazine, the other resting behind his head.

He narrowed his eyes in lazy satisfaction.

Beauty gritted her teeth and stomped her foot inwardly, but she forced herself to swallow her irritation.

With a painfully artificial smile, she replied, "Since President Lucas’s hands are occupied, allow me to feed you."

The sycophantic act was almost too much for even her to stomach.

Yet she kept her smile radiant—like a brothel madam from ancient times spotting a wealthy patron.

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