CHAPTER 145: MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE

Beauty’s face flushed crimson with anger.

Just when she thought she’d finally shaken off Lucas, he’d somehow managed to tighten his grip even further.

Did he really think some lousy contract could claim her entire life?

Not a chance.

That kind of fairy-tale deal didn’t exist—not even in her wildest dreams.

"I don’t agree," she declared, straightening her back and pursing her lips defiantly.

"I signed that contract when I wasn’t in my right mind.

It’s invalid."

"Invalid?"

Lucas let out a low, mocking chuckle.

Rising from the couch, he loomed over her, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

In one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist, his voice dripping with menace.

"It doesn’t matter what state you were in.

Your signature is right there—legally binding.

If you try to break it, you’ll have to pay the penalty within the stipulated time."

Penalty?

Had she heard that right?

A man who ranked on the magazine’s rich list was demanding compensation from *her*?

How shameless.

He knew damn well she could barely afford a glass of water.

Going head-to-head with Lucas would only end in humiliation.

Fine—if brute force wouldn’t work, she’d try charm.

Flirting, whining, pouting... whatever it took to get him to scrap that ridiculous contract.

Lucas arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking in amusement.

"So?" he drawled.

"Made up your mind?

The contract’s clear—become my wife, and you get your freedom.

No one will control you.

Do whatever you want.

Plus, I’ll give you the best benefits and security.

Tempting, isn’t it?"

So, he thought he could leash her with freedom and money?

Ridiculous.

If she wanted freedom, why would she chain herself to him?

And as for money—she’d never cared much for it.

You couldn’t take it with you when you died.

As long as she had enough to get by, that was all that mattered.

Suddenly, she grabbed his sleeve, her small lips pouting slightly, her big, watery eyes blinking rapidly.

"Uncle, I’m still so young—I don’t want to get married this early!

I haven’t even had my fill of fun yet!

And now that you’re such a high-profile figure in New York, if people find out I’m your wife, I’ll never have any freedom for the rest of my life.

Why don’t you find someone else?

Like Nathalie or Cassandra—I’m sure they’d be more than happy to cooperate with you."

As she spoke, she tugged lightly at Lucas’s sleeve, her expression pitiful and innocent, as if she were just a breath away from squeezing out a couple of tears. Lucas remained unmoved.

These little tricks of hers meant nothing to him.

His icy gaze burned into her as he crossed his arms, the corner of his lips quirking upward.

"Mr. Marson, oh mighty boss, please let me off the hook!

If you spare me just this once, I’ll be forever grateful.

Whatever you need in the future, I’ll go through fire and water for you—no hesitation!"

"No need for fire and water," he replied coolly.

"Right now, I just need a wife.

Figure it out yourself.

If you keep dragging your feet, I’ll have my lawyer contact you.

Don’t come crying to me when that happens."

With that, he picked up the two contracts and the gift box from the sofa, strode out without so much as a glance back, and even made sure to close the door behind him.

Beauty was so furious she could scream.

She snatched a cushion from the sofa and hurled it across the room, muttering curses under her breath.

The stuffed doll on the couch became Lucas’s unfortunate stand-in—she nearly knocked its head clean off.

She tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.

She had thought she was finally about to escape this cage, to be free of Lucas—only to find herself trapped all over again, now legally bound as Mrs. Marson.

How could this be?

She had no intention of becoming the target of gossip across the entire city!

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that she finally drifted into a fitful sleep, only to wake before six, restless and agitated.

Then, her phone chimed—a message from Lucas lighting up the screen.

So?

Have you made up your mind yet?

If you’re still undecided, I’ll have my lawyer contact you.

After we get married, you can work if you want to, or not if you don’t.

Any position in the company is yours for the taking.

Beauty’s heart skipped a beat—that last line had truly struck a chord.

She’d been stuck as this man’s assistant for so long, and she was utterly sick of it.

The thought of becoming a designer at Marson Corporation, or even just an assistant at one of its subsidiaries, was enough to make her feel like she’d achieved everything she ever wanted in life.

Of course, this cunning man knew exactly how to reel her in.

He’d pinpointed her weakness in no time—what a sly, devious old fox.

"Give me some time to think it over.

I’ll give you my answer in three days."

Beauty quickly fired off the reply before tossing her phone onto the bed.

She let out a frustrated groan, kicking her long legs wildly against the mattress, sending plush toys and pillows tumbling to the floor. ...

Two days later, in the office.

Lucas and Drake sat across from each other, leisurely sipping tea from delicate porcelain cups.

A faint smirk played on Drake’s lips.

"It’s been two days already.

Has that girl still not come around?"

Lucas swirled the teacup in his palm, his eyes narrowing slightly.

With a cold, confident smile, he replied, "She’ll figure it out.

Right now, this is her best option—without it, she wouldn’t survive.

Beauty is smart.

She knows what choice to make."

"You’re ruthless.

Can’t even let a young girl off the hook, huh?

And here I thought *I* was the one who ruined people.

Look at yourself! If Grandpa ever found out you’re treating his adopted granddaughter like this, he’d be furious."

Drake crossed his legs and leaned back into the sofa, his lips curling into an elegant smirk as he settled in to enjoy the show.

Lucas’s cup clattered onto the coffee table as he let out a disdainful snort through his nostrils.

Lowering his dark, fathomless eyes, he said coolly, "If Grandfather knew I was going to take care of Beauty for the rest of my life, he’d rest in peace."

Drake couldn’t help but admire him—men who willingly took on the responsibility of providing for their wives were rare these days.

He reached out and gave Lucas’s shoulder two firm pats, his tone earnest.

"Since you went through all that trouble just to marry her, you’d better treat her right.

Honestly, as your brother, I’m just glad to see you moving on from your last marriage.

At least now you won’t be alone anymore."

His words were heartfelt, and a faint smile tugged at his lips as he gave Lucas’s shoulder another couple of reassuring pats.

Lucas smirked, shooting him a teasing glance.

"What about you, then?

What’s your plan with Sarah?

You can’t just keep dragging this out.

If your old man forces you to marry Samantha, you’ll regret it when it’s too late."

The moment Sarah was mentioned, Drake’s expression darkened.

If there was one person in this world who could make him drop his defenses and lose his composure, it was Sarah.