Chapter 4: The Annoying Man

"Is this real?!"

Someone shouted from the crowd. No one knew who it was—but it echoed exactly what everyone was thinking.

Seraphina smiled.

Lucien smiled back.

Without hesitation, Lucien stepped closer and casually offered his arm, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Seraphina took it lightly, her fingers resting against his sleeve. Together, they turned—ready to walk away from the stage and leave the chaos behind.

Behind them, Julian Moreau looked like a complete clown.

Every pair of eyes in the hall was on him now. Some guests covered their mouths, trying to hide their laughter. Even Julian's own friends were shaking their heads, a few openly chuckling as they watched him stand frozen on the stage.

The faces of the Moreau family burned red with humiliation—as if they had been slapped hard in public.

From the front row, a man from a first-rate family laughed loudly, entirely unbothered by the tension. "This was worth coming for," he said cheerfully. "You don't get this kind of entertainment every day."

The Hawthorne family, on the other hand, bowed their heads in shame.

Edmund and Margaret Hawthorne did not dare look up. They could feel the fury radiating from the Moreau family, yet they lacked even the courage to defend themselves.

Lucien adjusted his wrinkled, old polo shirt lazily, then took a step forward with exaggerated confidence.

But before he could take another—

"Wait!"

Julian's furious shout rang through the hall.

"Stop right there!" His eyes burned as he glared at Lucien. "You have some nerve stealing my woman!"

Lucien and Seraphina stopped.

They turned around together.

Seraphina tilted her head slightly, a mocking smile forming on her lips. "Your woman?" she asked calmly. "Who are you talking about?"

She looked Julian up and down before continuing coldly, "Didn't I make myself clear? I'm not marrying you."

"Seraphina!" Edmund roared, his voice cracking with anger. "What do you think you're doing?! Do you really want to destroy the Hawthorne family?!"

Before Seraphina could respond, Lucien spoke first.

"Uncle," he said casually, his tone almost polite. "How exactly would the Hawthorne family be destroyed?"

Edmund froze.

Lucien continued, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Let me get this straight. Your solution to bankruptcy is selling your adopted daughter to another family. That's… impressive logic."

Laughter rippled through the guests.

Margaret's face tightened. "Watch your words!"

Lucien glanced at her and smiled faintly. "Auntie, don't worry. I'm just helping you think more efficiently."

Then he looked at Caleb.

"And you," Lucien said, eyeing him lazily. "You keep saying you won't be able to get married unless your sister marries Young Master Moreau."

Caleb stiffened. "That's—"

Lucien snapped his fingers. "Perfect. Then here's a solution."

He gestured between Caleb and Julian with apparent enthusiasm.

"Since no one will marry Young Master Julian if your sister doesn't, and you won't get married if your sister doesn't—why don't you two just marry each other?"

He nodded to himself, clearly pleased.

"Problem solved. The Hawthorne family survives. You get married. And the Moreau family gets a son-in-law. Everyone wins."

The hall burst into laughter.

Julian's face darkened to an ugly shade of red.

Caleb looked like he might explode. "You—!"

Lucien raised a hand calmly. "Relax. I'm just thinking practically. Isn't that what you people like to do? Sacrifice someone else's happiness for your own benefit?"

He shrugged. "I'm just offering a faster solution."

Seraphina couldn't help it.

She laughed.

Margaret's eyes filled with tears. "You're twisting words! You're humiliating us!"

Lucien looked at her steadily. "I didn't twist anything. I just said it out loud."

More laughter followed.

Julian clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. Caleb trembled with rage. Margaret looked on the verge of collapse.

Yet none of them could refute a single word.

Lucien spread his hands slightly, his gestures relaxed but cutting. "So let's be honest. You're not sacrificing her for the family. You're sacrificing her for your convenience."

Seraphina looked at him, amusement still dancing in her eyes.

And for the first time, she realized—

Standing beside him, she was no longer alone.

Edmund finally snapped.

"You have no right to interfere," he barked angrily. "This is a family matter. Outsiders should know their place."

Lucien slowly turned his head.

His gaze slid to Julian.

"Oh?" Lucien said mildly. "Did you hear that?"

He stepped closer to Seraphina and casually wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Outsiders shouldn't interfere in our family matters."

The words landed like a bomb.

Julian's eyes widened, his face twisting with rage. Being called an outsider—after Seraphina herself had already drawn that line earlier—was a direct blow to his pride.

"You—!" Julian nearly exploded.

Lucien released Seraphina and turned away as if Julian no longer existed. He walked back toward his table and, without hesitation, picked up a chicken drumstick from another guest's plate.

"Hey—what the hell?" the man exclaimed, raising both hands in protest.

Lucien didn't even look at him. He simply nodded. "Borrowing it."

Then he turned back and walked toward Julian's group with slow, deliberate steps.

Like a professor entering a lecture hall.

He lifted the drumstick and pointed it forward—using it like a pointer.

"Alright," Lucien said calmly. "Let's break this down."

The hall quieted instinctively.

Lucien stopped in front of Edmund first.

"You," he said, tapping the air with the drumstick. Edmund stiffened. "The reason your family is standing at the edge of collapse has nothing to do with marriage alliances."

Lucien tilted his head. "It's bad management. Short-term decisions. Selling off dignity instead of fixing fundamentals."

A few businessmen in the crowd nodded quietly.

Edmund's face darkened.

Lucien moved the drumstick to Margaret.

"And you," he continued. "You're a woman."

Margaret blinked, startled.

"A woman who watched another woman be sacrificed," Lucien said flatly. "You should have cared more."

Several women among the guests exchanged glances—and nodded.

Margaret's lips trembled, but she couldn't refute a word.

The drumstick shifted again.

Caleb.

Lucien looked him up and down. "And you."

Caleb swallowed.

"You're a grown man," Lucien said. "If you want to get married, earn your own money. Don't rely on your sister's marriage to pay your dowry."

Caleb flushed crimson.

Finally, Lucien turned to Julian.

He paused.

Then smiled.

"You," Lucien said lightly. "The chicken here is actually pretty good."

He raised the drumstick slightly. "Invite me when you marry Caleb."

Then he laughed—and took a bite.

The hall erupted.

Laughter burst from every direction. Some guests covered their mouths. Others didn't even bother hiding it.

Julian's expression shattered completely.

Lucien chewed thoughtfully, then placed the bare bone back onto the man’s table and gave him a casual nod.

"Thanks, man."

The man could only blink for a second before laughing helplessly.

Lucien wiped his fingers, then turned back to Seraphina.

"Alright," he said casually. "Let's get married."

Seraphina smiled.

She nodded, slipped her hand into his arm, and turned away with him.

Together, they walked out of the venue.

They did not look back.

Behind them, the hall was left in chaos—four figures standing frozen in humiliation, surrounded by whispers, laughter, and the sharp realization that everything had already slipped beyond their control.