Chapter 82: Chapter 82

Lately, Beauty kept seeing herself splashed across news headlines—standing beside Lucas in elegant evening gowns, the epitome of grace.

She became the center of attention, though she doubted anyone truly remembered her face.

Merely standing next to Lucas was enough to make any woman the target of envy.

She half-expected someone to throw acid at her on the street one day.

Then, a thought struck her.

If Lucas had been married before, there must be some trace of it online.

A man like him would have had the most extravagant wedding in all of the Country.

She grabbed her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as she typed his name.

Page after page of news articles appeared, but even after scrolling back five years, she found nothing about a deceased ex-wife.

A secret marriage, perhaps?

A man like him would surely keep his private life under wraps to protect his family and the woman he loved.

With a sigh, she shut the laptop, disappointment settling in.

She had only seen that girl once—on that terrifying night—yet her face and voice had imprinted themselves in Beauty’s memory.

Even knowing she was dead didn’t frighten her.

What kind of woman could leave such an indelible mark on Lucas’s heart?

Without realizing it, she found herself stepping out of her room and walking down the hallway until she reached the end.

Turning her head slightly, she noticed the door that wasn’t fully closed—just barely ajar, leaving a narrow sliver of space. It was broad daylight, after all.

Nothing to be afraid of.

She exhaled deeply, her curiosity getting the better of her as she pushed the door open once more.

Despite the time that had passed, the room’s decor and furnishings remained exactly as they were two years ago—unchanged, untouched.

The space was immaculately clean, with a thick woolen carpet spread across the floor.

The air conditioning was set unusually low, yet the window was left open, likely to let in fresh air.

Neatly arranged on the floor were wine bottles and glasses, the remnants of a deep crimson liquid still clinging to the bottom—evidence that Lucas had been here.

And he sat right here, drinking on the floor.

A chill ran down her spine.

Just as she turned to leave, the door swung open behind her, startling her into a sharp gasp.

"You—what are you doing here?

It’s the middle of the day—are you trying to scare me to death?"

Beauty clutched her chest, her words stumbling as her cheeks flushed scarlet. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novelFɪre.net

Her hands fidgeted nervously behind her back, like a child caught misbehaving and bracing for reprimand.

"Oh, so you *do* know it’s daytime," he replied coolly.

"Am I really that terrifying?"

"N-no, it’s just—I shouldn’t have come in.

I saw the door wasn’t closed, so I—"

Her words tangled, her tongue tripping over itself until it went numb.

She lowered her head slightly, unable to meet his gaze.

No matter how harshly Lucas berated or punished her, she accepted it all without complaint.

"Will you have a drink with me?"

This time, to her surprise, he didn’t scold her or lash out.

Instead, he merely lifted his gaze and gave her a long, inscrutable look.

Then, settling onto the woolen carpet, he retrieved a glass from another box.

She glanced around the room, which sent a chill down her spine even in broad daylight.

Who in their right mind would drink in a place so thick with gloom?

When under someone else’s roof, one had no choice but to bow.

If she pissed off this psycho, he might just toss her straight out the window!

As the glass filled, Beauty mimicked Lucas, sitting cross-legged on the cushion.

Her eyes remained fixed on the liquid in her cup or the floor, not daring to wander—lest she provoke him.

"Whenever I’m upset, I come here to talk to Amelia and share a drink.

Today, work was light, and it’s her death anniversary. I thought I’d be alone with her again.

But now that you’re here, it’s not quite as lonely."

Lucas’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet in the hollow expanse of the room, it rang unnervingly clear.

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Three seconds passed before he murmured again, "You must be curious about her, aren’t you?"

"I... I’m not the type to pry into other people’s private lives."

It was as if he had seen right through her.

She bit her lip, falling silent, her fingers tightening around the stem of the wineglass.

The crimson liquid inside cast a rosy glow on her face.

"I want to tell you. I need someone to talk to. Would that be alright?"

Lucas’s voice was low and rough as he spoke, his piercing hawk-like gaze fixed on her.

He drained his glass of red wine in one swift motion.

"So... why did she leave?"

Beauty finally voiced the question buried deep in her heart, her lips pressing together as she looked at him.

She noticed the subtle twitch of his brow, his eyes suddenly clouded as if veiled in mist.

"She passed away from cervical cancer.

By the time she left, most of her hair had fallen out from the treatments.

She used to have such long, dark locks—so beautiful.

But even then, I still thought she was the most stunning woman in the world.

To me, she was just as breathtaking as the day we first met."

She had always known Lucas was a man of deep emotions, but she never expected his words to be so heartbreakingly tender.

A bitter ache settled in her chest, and before she could stop them, tears spilled down her cheeks.

"In a way, she was a lucky woman—to have been loved so deeply.

Maybe some people are only meant to walk part of the journey with us.

But no matter what, life goes on.

We can’t live in the past forever."

She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand, the memory of her father’s passing flashing through her mind.

Back then, she had felt like the sky was falling, yet here she was now, living just fine.

"You’re nothing like her in temperament. She was the kind of girl who, when quiet, resembled a painting—serene as a dove, yet lively as a rabbit.

That’s how people described Amelia.

But you..." Lucas paused for half a second, his lips curling slightly.

Meeting Beauty’s expectant gaze, he continued, "You’re a stubborn little hedgehog, covered in sharp spines that keep everyone at bay.

That’s how you were the first time I met you, and it hasn’t changed a bit."

Sometimes, a person’s looks and demeanor can be refined over time, but the temperament forged by one’s upbringing is something that never truly fades.

Beauty elegantly drained her glass of red wine.

"I know you prefer those ethereal, delicate girls—true ladies of grace and poise.

Meanwhile, I’m just an unremarkable little hedgehog.

That’s why you’re always so harsh with me, so... unbearable."

Liquid courage indeed.

All the words she had swallowed back in the past now spilled out unchecked.

Lucas didn’t argue, nor did he offer any further explanation.

Instead, he rose and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, where sunlight streamed in, casting a golden glow over his face and figure, as if he were bathed in radiance.

At last, the gloom and storm clouds within him seemed to dissipate under that warm light.

He swallowed the rest of his unspoken words—what he had really meant to say was that she was more like that very sunlight, piercing through the dark clouds that had long shrouded his sky.

She had brought a sliver of brightness to his damp, shadowed heart.