Chapter 190
Just as Lucy and Emma stepped out of the elevator, Mrs. Lucas’s assistant greeted them, smiling as she led them toward the conference room.
The moment the door opened, the aroma of coffee mixed with the scent of paper wafted out. As soon as Lucy steadied herself, she saw Mrs. Lucas rising from her seat. The two shared a warm hug and exchanged a few affectionate pleasantries. Quickly, Lucy switched to work mode. She connected her laptop to the projector, and one by one, the design drafts unfolded on the screen.
Mrs. Lucas leaned in, examining them closely, occasionally tapping details with her fountain pen to suggest changes. Lucy nodded in response, making quick notes on her tablet, while Emma sat to the side, typing furiously to record every key point of their discussion.
Although it was just a review, refining the details took time. By the time they finalized the last modification, an hour and a half had passed.
Meanwhile, Kingsley’s negotiation had gone off without a hitch. The deal was signed and sealed thirty minutes ago.
Yet, he didn’t let the driver leave. Instead, he sat in the back seat, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the elevator exit.
It wasn’t until he saw Lucy appear that he pushed the door open and walked quickly to intercept her.
“The Holt family has already selected a marriage partner for Jules,” Kingsley said, his voice lower than usual, his eyes locked on her. “His mother didn’t secure her position in the Holt family without having certain methods. I don’t want you dragged into their mess. You don’t have to accept me, but don’t agree to Jules so hastily p>
Lucy paused, looking up at him with eyes full of distance. “Kingsley, you’re overstepping. Who I choose to be with is my business p>
“I know,” Kingsley took a half-step forward, a hint of urgency in his tone. “But I don’t want to see you get hurt p>
“Anyone has the right to say that except you,” Lucy laughed suddenly, the sound chilling. “Don’t act like a saint in front of me. Save that line for other women; maybe they’ll be moved enough to throw themselves into your arms p>
“There’s no other woman,” Kingsley said, his tone soft but leaving no room for doubt.
Lucy didn’t engage further. She simply reached out, shoved him hard to the side, and said coldly, “Move p>
She turned and walked away with Emma, not looking back once.
A week passed quickly.
During these seven days, Kingsley didn’t actively disturb Lucy, but he stubbornly
had the florist deliver a fresh bouquet every day.
At first, Lucy told Emma to return
them. Eventually, she got tired of the hassle and simply told her to throw theman the downstairs frash or give them to the homeless man on the corner.
One morning, Jules arrived to see Lucy and spotted Emma holding a large, exquisitely wrapped bouquet of roses, heading toward the trash cans.
He walked over quickly and smiled. “Keep the flowers for now. Don’t throw them away p>
Emma blinked, then nodded. “Okay, Mr. Holt p>
Jules walked straight to Lucy’s office and knocked lightly.
A clear “Come in” sounded from inside. He pushed the door open leaning against the frame with a smile in his eyes. Time to go Designer Lynwood. We have an appointment with Ben p>
Lucy looked up, typing a few final keystrokes. “Give me two minutes p>
She efficiently saved the blueprints, closed her laptop, and packed it into her bag. Seeing this, Jules naturally walked over, took the bag from her hand, and carried it.
As they walked out of the office, Lucy glanced at the flowers on the desk, raising an eyebrow.
Jules followed her gaze and said casually, “He’ll be there today too. Bring the flowers p>
Lucy looked at him sideways. “To smash them in his face p>
Jules chuckled, his eyes full of approval. “I think that’s completely viable p>
“You’re pretty wicked too.” Lucy laughed. She looked down at the blooming roses and changed the subject. Smashing him is a waste Have Emma give them to a homeless person; it might trade for a hot meal. My bag is heavy enough
to smash him with p>
Jules raised a brow, leaning in slightly with a teasing tone. “In a sense, he’s my rival.
Who wants their rival to live too comfortably p>