The ride to the Sterling family house in Kensington was suffocatingly tense. Lucia sat rigid in her seat, her arms crossed defiantly, while Malcolm tapped away on his phone, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to her seething anger. Her mind wandered to the chaos back at his Chelsea mansion just hours ago.
"Change," Malcolm had commanded, his cold gray eyes flickering over her body like she was some unwelcome guest in his home. "That dress is inappropriate."
Lucia had gaped at him, stunned. "What's wrong with my dress?" she'd demanded, looking down at the navy-blue gown that hugged her curves modestly.
"You're exposing too much flesh," he replied dismissively. "It's unsightly. And let's be honest, you're not as attractive as Stephanie to pull something like that off."
That comment had been the tipping point. Lucia had stood there, stunned silent for a moment, then burst into laughter, her hands on her hips. "Stephanie? Are you serious?"
She knew he was lying. She'd seen the photos of his ex plastered across social media during their relationship. Stephanie was nothing to write home about—flat as a pancake, with limbs so thin they could snap under a gust of wind. If Malcolm genuinely believed she was a better catch, he was either delusional or had a fetish for skeletons.
But no amount of reasoning could soften the insult. Even now, sitting in the car, the sting of his words lingered. She clenched her fists, refusing to give him the satisfaction of tears.
As the car pulled into the sprawling driveway of the Sterling family mansion, Lucia was momentarily distracted by the grandeur before her. The estate was bustling with life—uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces, and nephews were scattered across the vast lawn, laughing and chatting.
Her irritation ebbed slightly when a toddler ran up to her. He had chubby cheeks and curly brown hair, his small hands reaching for her dress. "Hello there," she cooed, bending down to scoop him up.
"His name is Romeo," a woman's voice chimed. Lucia looked up to see a warm smile from Olivia, Malcolm's cousin Nelson's wife.
"Romeo," Lucia repeated, cradling the boy as he giggled and clung to her. For a fleeting moment, she felt an unfamiliar tug in her chest. A longing, perhaps. She imagined what it would be like to have a child of her own. But the fantasy shattered the second Malcolm leaned in close to her ear.
"Don't even think about it," he whispered harshly. "Us having a child together will never happen. I want Stephanie. She's all I've ever wanted. I'd rather give up the entire Sterling empire than have kids with a woman like you."
Lucia's chest tightened, her grip on Romeo momentarily faltering before Olivia took the boy back. She forced a smile as Olivia walked away, but her hands trembled. What did he mean by "a woman like you"? Not that she cared to have a child with him, but the cruelty in his tone was too much to bear.
Inside the mansion, the air buzzed with excitement as preparations began for the traditional Sterling tea ceremony. As the bride, it was Lucia's duty to serve tea to the elders of the family, starting with Malcolm's mother. Dorothy Sterling sat elegantly at the head of the room, her eyes warm as she watched Lucia approach with the first cup.
"Thank you, my dear," Dorothy said, her voice kind. Lucia felt a surprising wave of comfort from the older woman. At least someone here wasn't out to make her life miserable.
One by one, she moved down the line, serving tea with grace and composure, even as her irritation simmered beneath the surface. Everything was perfect—until she reached Malcolm.
He sat at the end of the room, his legs crossed arrogantly, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As she neared him with the teacup, her mind raced with possibilities. The tea was piping hot—scalding, even. It would be so easy to "accidentally" spill it on him.
Lucia allowed a mischievous smile to creep onto her face as she held the cup delicately in both hands. But Malcolm wasn't a fool. He could see the fire in her eyes, the subtle twitch of her lips. She was up to something.
As she stepped closer, Malcolm's hand disappeared into his suit pocket. Lucia froze for a split second, her smile faltering. What was he—
Before she could react, he pulled out a small taser.
Her eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.
Malcolm's smirk deepened. If she wanted to play games, he'd happily oblige.
Lucia took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached his side. She feigned a stumble, intending to spill the tea all over his pristine suit, but Malcolm was faster. He shot out his free hand, catching her by the waist, the taser poised in the other.
The shock was instant—a brief, sharp jolt that coursed through her body. She yelped, the teacup clattering to the floor as Malcolm steadied her with a firm grip.
"You're insane!" she hissed, pulling away from him as laughter erupted around the room.
Malcolm leaned in close, his voice low so only she could hear. "And you're predictable, Lucia. Remember that."
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and rage as she stormed out of the room, the laughter of the Sterling family ringing in her ears. Malcolm Sterling was the devil incarnate, and she was stuck in his hell.