CHAPTER 125: WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

After dinner, Samuel drove her to the Marson family villa.

As she thought about the previous incidents, Beauty still felt a faint unease in her heart.

After all, she had no idea whether Lucas would return tonight.

If he happened to see her with Samuel again, there was no telling what harsh words he might throw her way.

"Um, Samuel, you can just drop me off here.

I’ll walk the rest of the way," Beauty said, waving at Samuel before quickly turning to leave, eager to avoid any further entanglement.

The moment she stepped into the grand hall, she saw Lucas lounging on the sofa, legs crossed, flipping through a magazine.

It was as if he had anticipated her arrival—he didn’t even glance up before coldly asking, "Where have you been?"

A chill ran down Beauty’s spine, but then it struck her—since when did she have to report her every move to him?

She was a free woman now.

A faint smirk tugged at her lips.

"Do I really need to inform Mr. Lucas of my whereabouts?

My time after work is my own."

Lucas’s fingers drummed lazily against the sofa, his eyes veiled with an inscrutable glint that sent a shiver down her spine.

After a brief pause, he finally lifted his gaze, icy and detached.

"Oh? I thought you might have something to say to me.

If that’s all, I’ll retire for the night.

Don’t forget to wake up early tomorrow."

With that, he set the magazine down on the coffee table and turned to leave.

"Wait."

Beauty pressed her lips together, watching his retreating figure before suddenly speaking up.

Lucas halted, a fleeting trace of triumph flashing in his eyes as he turned back, arching a brow.

"My rest time is just as valuable as my work hours.

If you have something to say, spit it out."

Straightening her posture, Beauty steeled herself—whatever happened next, she was ready.

Raising her eyes to meet his icy gaze, she said defiantly, "Didn’t you say the branch office needs designers?

I majored in design—I just haven’t gotten my diploma yet.

Once you hire new designers, can I at least assist them?"

She had no intention of being stuck as someone’s glorified coffee fetcher forever!

A budding designer like her shouldn’t waste her talents fetching files and pouring tea.

Only by transferring to the branch office could she truly escape his clutches.

"You’re not ready yet," Lucas replied, his voice frosty.

"Stay as my assistant until you graduate.

Then I’ll arrange a different position for you."

Without another word, he turned and continued up the stairs.

Beauty’s face burned with frustration.

If he insisted on keeping her close, what choice did she have?

He was still her boss, after all.

Crossing him wasn’t an option.

Just then, Laura stumbled in, reeking of alcohol.

The moment she spotted Beauty, her lips curled into a sneer.

"Well, well, if it isn’t my dear sister-in-law!

Done with your little date with Samuel?"

Beauty flushed but ignored her, stepping toward the stairs—only for Laura to yank her back violently.

Off-balance, she slipped and tumbled down, her knee slamming against the edge of the last step.

Blood trickled down her shin.

"Ah—!"

The muffled cry reached Lucas before he had fully ascended.

At the sound of her stifled pain, he spun around and descended swiftly from the landing.

His glacial glare locked onto Laura, who paled instantly, her fingers twisting nervously.

"It—it wasn’t me, brother!" she stammered, lips trembling.

"She fell on her own!"

Lucas shot her a fierce warning glance before carrying the pale-faced Beauty upstairs, a flicker of concern flashing in his eyes despite his otherwise expressionless face.

Though Lucas and Laura were half-siblings, ever since she could remember, her brother had always doted on her—never once had he looked at her with such hostility.

And today, for some stray girl of unknown origin, he had actually glared at her like that!

Did he really see her as his wife now?

Laura’s eyes burned with malice as she stared at Beauty’s retreating figure, her lips curling into a venomous smirk.

With a sharp kick, Lucas flung the door open, carefully placing Beauty on the sofa before turning to fetch the first-aid kit, his brows tightly knitted.

"Put your leg on my lap."

"Okay..."

Beauty obediently rested her bleeding leg across his thigh, biting her lip hard.

The sharp pain from her knee made her inhale sharply.

His slender fingers gently cradled her ankle while his other hand dabbed at the wound.

His touch brushed against her fair calf—icy cool, just like the man himself, perpetually radiating coldness.

"Be gentle!

It hurts!"

She instinctively jerked her leg back, wincing as the pain shot through her knee.

Of all places to get hurt, it had to be the kneecap—now even walking would be a struggle.

Damn Laura.

Once she recovered, she’d make sure that girl paid for this.

With practice ease, he finished bandaging her wound before lifting his cold gaze to meet hers.

"Laura is immature.

Don’t take it to heart."

Damn it!

She was fuming!

This favoritism was just too blatant!

Just because that girl was his sister, she was automatically excused for being immature?

And she was supposed to just take it?

Beauty’s eyes burned red with anger, her lips trembling as she fought back tears.

With a voice thick with injustice, she spat out, "So just because she’s your sister, she can do no wrong?

And because I’m just some nobody, I should just roll over and take it?"

Her whole body shook with emotion, her lower lip clamped tight between her teeth.

Lucas’s face remained an impassive mask as his fingers gently massaged her swollen calf.

"Laura, was spoiled rotten growing up.

There’s no need to stoop to her level.

I’ll deal with what happened today.

You misunderstood me earlier."

Beauty lifted her chin defiantly, meeting his gaze head-on.

A cold smirk twisted her lips.

"Oh? And how exactly did I misunderstand you?"

"What I meant was, as her sister-in-law, you’re her elder.

There’s no need to bicker with a junior like her."

Beauty: "..." How convenient for him—with that logic, wasn’t he basically declaring himself her husband?

Here she was, injured and in pain, and this perverted man still found ways to take advantage of her.

With a derisive snort through her nose, she sneered, "I wouldn’t dare presume to be Mrs. Lucas.

I’m just here to play along with your family charade.

Don’t think for a second this fake marriage will ever become real."

Before she could say more, his fingers tilted her chin up, his lips capturing hers in a swift, searing kiss that stole her breath.

The sweet pressure of his mouth silenced all protests, leaving her dizzy.

Though the kiss lasted mere seconds, it left her cheeks burning, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.

Flustered beyond words, she fidgeted, suddenly hyper aware of her limbs with no idea where to put them.

Lucas studied her crimson face with cool amusement.

"Consider that your punishment for that little speech.

Fake marriage?"

His lips curved.

"We consummated that arrangement quite thoroughly, wouldn’t you say?"