As soon as Lucas Zeller got out of the car, he spotted Annie waiting at the entrance.
"Annie, is there something you didn't explain clearly earlier?" he asked curiously as he walked into the shop.
"No, Director. It's just that… Miss Claire Grace came downstairs looking for you earlier," Annie said, staring intently at his face as if trying to read his reaction.
Lucas froze for a moment, his handsome face showing surprise. Then, his lips pressed into a thin line, and he nodded with a noncommittal "Mm."
Annie looked a little disappointed at his indifference. Just as she was about to turn away, she heard him ask, "Did she say anything? Or did she leave? She wouldn't have gone out while I wasn't around, right?"
"I saw her go downstairs and look around the shop, so I told her you'd be here soon. Then, she ran back upstairs to prepare lunch for you," Annie replied with a bright smile.
"For me?" His heart skipped a beat, pounding uncontrollably. Why did it feel like a wife preparing lunch for her husband who had just returned from work?
"Director, are you going upstairs to see Miss Claire first, or do you want to get to work?" Annie asked, her tone playful, as though she could read his thoughts.
Lucas shot her a brief glance, furrowed his brow slightly, and headed toward the styling department.
---
Having learned that Lucas preferred bold, authentic Chinese flavors, Claire Grace prepared a hearty lunch: spicy shredded beef, Kyoto-style ribs, three-vegetable soup, and Kung Pao chicken. Even though her body felt weak and her head was foggy, the thought of him enjoying the meal she'd made filled her with happiness.
Wasn't this the kind of life a married couple shared?
As the soup simmered, she walked into the living room to check the time. She frowned slightly in confusion. Annie had said Lucas would be back in ten minutes, yet almost two hours had passed, and he still hadn't come upstairs. He must have been caught up with work downstairs, she thought.
Distracted by her thoughts, she headed back to the kitchen, completely unaware of the tall, broad figure standing at the open doorway. Though he was bent over changing his shoes, his deep, piercing eyes remained locked on her back.
It wasn't until Claire let out a small, startled cry from the kitchen that Lucas sprang into action, racing toward her like an arrow.
"Claire, what's wrong?"
Hearing his voice, Claire froze for a moment before turning around. Then, without thinking, she rushed toward him.
Caught off guard, Lucas had no choice but to open his arms and catch her.
"You're back," she said softly, her face buried in his chest.
"Mm," he replied with a nod, gazing down at her. "What happened? I heard you cry out and came in right away."
"Oh, it's nothing. I was just making soup, and I accidentally got a bit of steam on my hand when I opened the lid," Claire explained, smiling apologetically.
Lucas frowned, his heart aching. "Where did it burn you? Let me see."
"It's fine, really. It just startled me for a moment. I didn't actually get burned," she said, her heart warming at his concern. "Were you working downstairs just now?"
"Yeah, I was helping a client with a styling session." Reassured that her face and hands were unharmed, Lucas finally relaxed. "You should sit in the living room. If there's anything left to finish, I'll handle it. I don't want you getting hurt again."
"There's nothing else to do. The soup will be ready in two minutes," Claire said with a smile.
"Alright." Lucas set a glass bowl on the counter and turned to find her still standing behind him, watching him intently. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "What are you looking at?"
"You," Claire replied without hesitation.
Her frankness made Lucas's ears burn slightly.
"Claire, have you eaten breakfast?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Yes. I wouldn't ignore your advice," she replied, inching closer. Before he realized it, she had slipped her arms around him from behind, resting her face against his broad back. "Lucas, why is it that even when you're right here, I miss you more and more? I finally understand what it means to feel like a day apart is as long as three years."
"That's a bit dramatic, Claire," Lucas muttered, though a warm smile flickered in his eyes. Gently, he removed her hands from his waist and busied himself with the soup.
"I don't believe you don't miss me," Claire said confidently as she sat across from him at the dining table.
"Claire," Lucas began, his tone more serious.
"Yes?" She looked up at him.
"Yuto Miyazawa, the CEO of Sunrise International, invited you to a celebration party tonight. Are you going?"
"Me? Why would he invite me?" Claire asked, confused. Yuto Miyazawa—the man so stunning he made women want to bang their heads against the wall?
"I'm going too," Lucas said, deliberately avoiding the real reason behind the invitation—Yuto's interest in her.
"You should've said so earlier! If you're going, I wouldn't even question why," Claire said happily.
"…Claire, is there something you want to tell me?" Lucas hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"About what?" Claire asked, placing some Kung Pao chicken in his bowl.
"I mean, about last night. Is there anything you want to say?"
"Last night…" The vivid memory of what had happened flashed through her mind, making her cheeks turn scarlet. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his penetrating eyes.
"Claire, I'm sorry…" Lucas said softly. He wasn't just apologizing for breaking Lily Grace's trust, but also for the dried blood on the bedsheet that morning—a mark of her innocence, now lost.