CHAPTER 144: BLACK CARD

"Oh my god!

Beauty, you actually have a black card—this must be from... from President Lucas M, right?"

To stop her best friend from blurting out Lucas’s full name, Beauty shot her a pointed glance.

Hannah caught on immediately and swiftly changed her tone.

But with only a handful of such black cards issued worldwide, the store clerk had already figured it out.

Everyone knew who the most frequent high-spending male customer was—they just chose not to say it aloud.

Stepping out of the boutique, the scorching sun bore down on them.

The two ducked into a dessert shop to cool off.

Today, Lucas had miraculously granted her a day off, and she wasn’t about to waste it by heading home early!

Hannah frowned in confusion.

"Beauty, you’ve got a black card right in your hand—why aren’t you using it?

Why drain your own savings like some naive little girl?

Don’t tell me you’re trying to save money for your dear ’Uncle’?"

Beauty took a spoonful of ice cream, her lips curving as she glanced at the elegant shopping bag.

"This is a gift for him.

How could I spend his money on it?

Sure, he wouldn’t miss two ties, but this is about the thought behind it.

And as for his black card—it’s just sitting in my wallet untouched.

I haven’t spent a single cent."

"Good grief!

You’re not even his wife yet, and you’re already pinching pennies for him!

Besides, with all that money he’s got, there’s no way he could spend it all in one lifetime.

Why not do him a favor and help lighten the load?"

Hannah stared at her with undisguised envy, her eyebrows arched high, her own ice cream nearly melting in her distracted grip.

After their snack, they browsed through women’s clothing.

Beauty bought a small gift for Hannah, and by then, her modest savings were nearly drained.

She set aside just enough for rent and living expenses—from now on, she’d have to tighten her belt.

When she returned to the villa, Lucas still hadn’t come home.

The household staff greeted her deferentially, asking whether she’d prefer Japanese or Korean cuisine for dinner.

"I’ll wait for President Marson and eat with him.

No need to trouble yourselves," she replied, clutching the shopping bag as she made her way upstairs.

Stepping into her room, she took in the familiar surroundings, a sudden pang of nostalgia tightening her chest.

No matter what, she’d lived here for so many years—long enough for it to feel like home.

Once she moved out, she wondered if she’d ever adjust.

I was sitting blankly on the sofa when a beam of harsh headlights pierced through the window—Lucas’s car.

He was back.

Retrieving my diploma from my bag, I adjusted my hair and smoothed my dress in front of the mirror, my heart fluttering with nervous excitement.

The moment I heard heavy footsteps approaching, my face lit up, and I rushed to the door.

As soon as I opened it, there he was—Lucas in a crisp white shirt and black trousers, rounding the corner toward me.

"You’re here," I said with a faint smile, stepping aside to let him in.

He strode straight to the sofa, sat down, and rested one hand on his knee, gesturing for me to come closer.

"How was your day?

Everything go smoothly?"

"Of course it did!"

I beamed, holding out my diploma like a child eager for praise, my hands clasped behind my back, eyes crinkling with joy.

"Look, my graduation certificate!

Don’t you feel proud?" Lucas’s gaze drifted indifferently over the diploma, his expression as detached as ever—as if it meant nothing to him.

His icy demeanor crushed my enthusiasm, and my smile faltered.

Snatching the certificate back, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and snapped, "I know you couldn’t care less about this.

I wasn’t expecting any grand praise or congratulations, but must you look so cold?

To you, it’s just a worthless piece of paper.

But to me, it represents years of hard work!"

"So?" His voice was flat.

"What do you want me to say?

A round of applause and a pat on the back?

Maybe a prize?"

Lucas’s icy gaze rested on her face, devoid of any warmth.

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the coffee table as his thin lips pressed into a tight line.

Beauty let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"Seems I really was overthinking things.

This is for you—a token of gratitude for raising me.

If you don’t like it, feel free to throw it away.

I won’t mind."

With that, she pulled an exquisite box from her bag and handed it to him, her delicate brows arched defiantly.

Lucas made no move to take it.

Instead, his dark eyes raked over her face like a laser.

His lips parted slightly.

"Gratitude for raising you?

And this is how you repay me?"

His words ignited her temper.

She snatched the box back and raised her arm to throw it into the trash bin, her frustration so palpable it actually amused him.

"If you don’t like it, just refuse it!

Right now, this is all I can afford.

When I have more savings, I’ll pay you back—bit by bit."

Before she could toss the box, Lucas intercepted it with one swift motion.

His long fingers traced the intricate patterns on the lid, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

He opened it to reveal two silk ties, their colors rich and vibrant.

Beauty froze, then lowered her head in embarrassment.

Such a gift was probably beneath his standards, but it was the best she could do right now.

"Funny you should mention gifts," he said, snapping the box shut and placing it on the sofa.

With his other hand, he reached for a black briefcase lying nearby.

A glint of mischief flickered in his eyes.

"No, really.

I don’t need you to give me anything.

I’m moving out tomorrow and won’t bother you anymore.

I already submitted my resignation yesterday—I won’t be going to work either."

Lucas’s brows furrowed.

So she had planned everything to leave him.

Was she that desperate to escape?

Not on his watch.

With an impassive expression, he pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to her, his thin lips parting slightly.

"Open it," he said coldly.

Beauty assumed it was the old adoption contract and accepted it with a polite smile—until she saw the bold print at the top.

Her blood ran cold.

*Marriage Contract?*

Since when has she signed this?

Her hands trembled, nearly dropping the papers.

She skimmed through the contents, her stomach twisting at the blatantly one-sided clauses.

This was practically a *slavery agreement!*

And worst of all—there it was.

Her signature and thumbprint.

The handwriting was shaky, like a worm had crawled across the page, but unmistakably hers.

"Where did this come from?

I had no idea this existed!"

Her chest tightened as if something had exploded inside her.

A dull roar filled her ears, leaving her stunned.

"All you need to know is that this bears your signature and fingerprint—along with the penalty clause for breach of contract.

The rest isn’t your concern."

A faint, devilish smirk played on Lucas’s lips.

After all this time, the moment had finally arrived.

He had invested so much in this girl since adopting her.

Now, at last, his patience was about to pay off.