CHAPTER 126: OFF DAY

Beauty pushed him away forcefully, only then realizing she was in Lucas’s room.

She lifted her eyelids to glance at him.

"I’m really tired now.

I want to take a shower and go to bed.

Help me over there."

"Over where?

Isn’t this our room?"

His shamelessness left her utterly defenseless.

Her cheeks flushed crimson as she retorted, "This is *your* room.

I need to go back to *mine*!

Or are you planning to take advantage of me even when my leg is injured like this?"

"Relax, I won’t do anything to you.

With your leg in this state—can’t move, can’t kneel—what exactly could I do?"

His words made Beauty wish she could dig a hole and disappear.

The memories of that day at the hotel flooded back, filling her with such embarrassment she could’ve bitten her tongue off.

Without another word, Lucas turned and strode into the bathroom, leaving her flustered and uneasy on the sofa.

The sound of running water soon broke the awkward silence.

Beauty leaned back against the cushions, staring blankly at the bandages on her knees.

She hadn’t expected Lucas to be so skilled at dressing wounds—almost on par with medical professionals.

Who would’ve thought that beneath his rough exterior lay such meticulous care?

The more she got to know him, the more he eluded her understanding. It was as if the closer she got, the more inscrutable he became.

"The water’s ready.

You can’t get your leg wet for the next few days, so you’ll have to make do with a basin wash."

Before she could respond, Lucas was already beside her.

He bent down, effortlessly scooping her into his arms.

She felt herself lifted, weightless, and cradled against his solid frame.

"Will you undress yourself, or should I help?"

Beauty hesitated for a beat, pressing her lips together.

"I’ll do it myself.

My leg’s hurt, not my arms.

I can manage.

You go ahead—I’ll call you when I’m done."

I expected him to shamelessly linger in the bathroom, but to my surprise, he left without hesitation.

Before closing the door behind him, he glanced at her casually and said in a light tone, "I’ll leave the door ajar.

Call me if you need anything—don’t push yourself.

There’s nothing about you I don’t already know."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his eyes before he turned and strode back to the sofa, leaving Beauty fuming.

He never missed a chance to remind her that she belonged to him now, as if afraid she might forget.

After her bath, she grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapped it around herself, and balanced on one foot to push the door open.

Her face was flushed from the steam.

"I told you not to move around," came a stern voice, laced with concern.

"Do you want to ruin your knee for good?

Or spend the rest of your life limping?"

With that, he bent down, scooped her into his arms, and carried her straight to the bed.

Gently, he draped a silk blanket over her injured knee.

Lying there, her thoughts spiraled wildly, scenes flashing through her mind like a movie reel—nervous yet tinged with anticipation.

*Beauty, your leg’s barely working, and this is what you’re thinking about?*

Scolding herself for her shameless thoughts, she yanked the blanket over her head.

Only when she heard the bathroom door open again did she freeze.

The scent of men’s body wash filled the air, wrapping around her senses.

Heavy footsteps approached.

She squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath, terrified he’d see through her feigned sleep.

The mattress dipped beside her.

In an instant, she was pulled into a scorching embrace, followed by the soft, cool press of lips against her forehead.

The man’s thin lips lightly brushed against her forehead and temples.

"If you’re going to keep pretending," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "then I might as well play along."

"What do you think you’re doing?"

Beauty yanked the blanket aside, her almond-shaped eyes wide with alarm as she glared at Lucas.

In the dim light, her startled expression made her look like a frightened rabbit staring into the abyss of his dark gaze.

The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the dappled shadows of trees swaying outside the window.

The only other thing she could see was the icy glint in Lucas’s eyes.

In one swift motion, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him.

Careful not to aggravate her injured knee, he held himself up in a perfect push-up position, looming over her as he leaned closer.

Her heart pounded wildly.

*This guy must work out a lot—his form is impeccable.*

A smirk curled at the corner of Lucas’s lips.

"Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice dripping with mischief.

"I just want a taste of forbidden fruit."

His hand trailed down the curve of her waist, fingers skimming lower.

A shiver ran through her, and she instinctively curled in on herself, her face paling.

"My—my knee isn’t healed yet," she stammered.

"What if... the wound starts bleeding again?"

"Your legs don’t need to move," he replied, his voice rough with promise.

"Just let me show you what I’m capable of."

Heat flooded Beauty’s cheeks as she watched him brace himself with one arm, the veins in his temples pulsing visibly.

Her chest tightened, as if an invisible hand had seized her heart, leaving her breathless.

The pain in her knee faded into the background as Lucas closed in, his movements deliberate and predatory—like a beast claiming its prey.

By the time she woke the next morning, the bed was empty.

Only the disheveled sheets and lingering traces of the night before served as proof of what had transpired.

Gritting her teeth, Beauty hobbled to the bathroom in her slippers, her body aching.

Just as she reached for her toothbrush, her phone buzzed with a message from Lucas: "Take the day off.

You performed well last night—consider it a reward."

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, her hands trembling so much she nearly squeezed toothpaste onto her toothbrush instead of face wash.

The frustration made her grit her teeth.

Due to her mobility issues, she had no choice but to stay in Lucas’s room.

Apparently, he had already instructed the household staff—soon enough, a servant politely wheeled in breakfast for her, treating her with the deference reserved for the lady of the mansion.

Luckily, Laura wasn’t home, so she enjoyed the peace, lounging on the sofa watching a movie before idly flipping through the books he usually read.

Back when it was just the two of them in this room, she had never really taken the time to observe it properly.

Now that she was alone, she figured she might as well explore.

Her gaze landed on a white photo frame tucked away in a corner of the bookshelf.

A woman’s intuition told her—there was definitely a secret hidden inside.

Almost as if possessed, she opened the album.

The first page revealed a wedding photo of him and Amelia.

A perfect match—talent and beauty, like heaven’s own pairing.

She had assumed that, to protect the woman he loved, he’d simply kept things low-key—just a quick trip to the registry office.

She never imagined they’d even taken wedding photos.

Page after page, the woman in the pictures wore a blissful, sweet smile—radiant and pure.

Exactly Lucas’s type.

But the man’s expression remained cool and detached in every shot.

Beauty scoffed.

*Typical show-off old man.*