Chapter 4

Lucien’s car pulled out of the underground garage. At the intersection ahead, he saw Avery and her daughter again.

The woman and the little girl walked hand in hand, hurrying beneath the plane trees’ shade.

The child looked about five or six, her hair tied into two little pigtails, the cherry charms on her hair ties glinting faintly in the morning light.

“Lucien, let’s have a daughter in the future, okay? I’ll braid her hair every day, and you’ll take her to preschool every morning. I want her to grow up happy, right by our side.”

“Alright. A daughter who looks like you would be best.”

“No, she should look like Daddy.”

“Looking like me is fine too.”

The memory was like an old wooden chest pried open, dust swirling in a shaft of light.

But then what happened?

Then she bore a daughter for someone else.

Avery walked Ivy to preschool. She stood at the gate and watched her daughter enter the classroom before finally turning away.

Across the street from the preschool, a Cullinan was parked.

At first, Avery thought it belonged to another parent and paid it no mind.

But as she crossed the road, the black Cullinan rolled through a shallow puddle like a silent beast and stopped precisely beside her.

The window lowered slowly. Lucien was sitting in the driver’s seat, his handsome profile edged with coldness in the dim light.

“Lady Walters,” Lucien called out, dragging the words slightly, his tone openly mocking.

“Why are you here?”

“Just passing by.”

If he was merely passing by, Avery had nothing to say.

She took a step to leave when Lucien spoke again. “Your daughter is very pretty.”

Avery’s heart tightened. Why would he suddenly say that?

Had he noticed something?

“My daughter looks pretty because she takes after me. Is that a problem?”

Lucien’s gaze darkened.

Of course her daughter should take after her.

Back then, within miles of the university district, who didn’t know of Avery’s beauty?

Those who had seen her said she carried an undeniable radiance—nothing like the cool glow of moonlight, but more like the blazing sun at the height of summer: vivid, unrestrained, dazzling and open.

When she smiled, it was even more arresting, her eyes curving into bright crescents, dimples faintly showing, lively and effortlessly captivating.

Back then, Avery had been the dream girl in the hearts of countless men.

“I was just complimenting your daughter. Why are you so tense?”

“I’m not tense. Which eye of yours saw me being tense?”

Avery felt uneasy and only wanted to escape Lucien’s gaze as quickly as possible.

Lucien saw she was about to leave again and extended his arm out of the Cullinan’s window, gripping her arm firmly.

“Trying to run again? The Lady Walters who used to cling to me like glue—why do you bolt the moment you see me now?”

His fingers were like iron clamps.

Even through the thin fabric, Avery could clearly feel the strength of his knuckles and the heat of his palm.

The Cullinan was far too eye-catching. People around them kept glancing over.

“Lucien, this is my daughter’s kindergarten. What exactly are you trying to do, pulling me like this right outside the school?”

“Nothing much. I’m just letting you know that I don’t accept your apology from yesterday.”

As he spoke, his hand suddenly tightened.

Caught off guard, Avery was slammed against the driver’s door.

Lucien pressed a hand to the back of her neck and leaned slightly out of the window, murmuring by her ear, “And one more thing, Lady Walters, you don’t get to say we’re even.”

As soon as the words fell, he released her without warning.

With the force gone, Avery lost her balance and fell straight to the ground.

She was utterly humiliated.

The Cullinan’s engine let out a low growl and sped away, leaving her sitting there alone, swallowing a mouthful of dust.

Avery cursed, “Lucien, damn you!”

Was he insane? Picking a fight with her first thing in the morning!