Chapter 3

"Really, you don't need to. You just got back from a trip—rest up."

Lucas pressed down on my hand reaching for my coat, his tone urgent.

I looked up and saw several red marks on his neck.

"What happened to your neck?" I stared at him.

He frantically covered them with his hand, his eyes darting away. "Ah... probably mosquito bites. They're really itchy."

With that, he rushed out the door, even forgetting to take his scarf.

Maybe I was too exhausted. I'd been working nonstop on projects lately, and then this happened.

I lay on the bed, my head buzzing. Before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, the room was pitch black.

I fumbled for my phone—it was midnight.

The screen was still on the fan group interface for that girl named Jane.

The latest messages were all from her, just posted:

[Tonight my sugar daddy is still with me~ I just acted cute and he came running]

Below was a photo.

The lighting was ambiguous. A girl leaned against a man's shoulder. The man's face was covered with a sticker, but that familiar black mole on the side of his neck—I recognized it instantly. It was Lucas.

The gray hoodie he wore was the birthday gift I'd given him last year.

And Jane was wearing his shirt, loose and oversized.

[My sugar daddy says I can't leave hickeys anymore! Because his wife asked him about them!]

[As compensation... he gave me his wife's Bulgari necklace~]

She posted another picture.

My breath caught.

That was part of my dowry from my mother, a limited edition piece she'd brought back from Italy.

It went missing last year. Lucas had even helped me search for it for ages, saying we must have accidentally thrown it out while cleaning.

So it wasn't thrown out.

It was stolen to give away.

I tossed my phone aside, wanting to close my eyes and keep sleeping.

But every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was that photo.

Jane leaning against his shoulder, smiling. Him looking down at her, his gaze painfully tender.

That was an expression I hadn't seen in a long time.

Half-asleep, I struggled through until dawn, hearing the sound of keys at the door.

Lucas tiptoed in, carrying the cold from outside.

He walked to the bedside and tucked the blanket around me.

I opened my eyes.

He jumped. "Did I wake you?"

"Lucas," I called out to him, my voice hoarse.

"This New Year, come back with me to see my parents."

He froze, obvious hesitation flashing across his face.

He mumbled an "mm" and looked away.

I continued, "Which friend was sick yesterday? I'm free today. Let's go visit."

His shoulders visibly stiffened, and his speech quickened. "You don't know them, and... and they were already discharged today. No need to go."

More lies.

I watched him nervously swallow, and suddenly felt a wave of nausea.

"Honey..." He suddenly moved closer, lifting the blanket and lying down.

His arm came around to hold me, his face buried in my neck.

"Don't ask anymore. Just let me hold you for a while."

He carried a faint scent of perfume—sweet, fruity floral notes.

I lay stiffly in his embrace, motionless.

His hand patted my back gently, just like he used to do when coaxing me to sleep.

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