My Second Marriage with the Mafia Kingpin

"Ugh..." Ashley’s head throbbed painfully.

Before she opened her eyes, she clutched her head. When she peeked through one eye, the curtains were still closed. Her brows knitted as she sat upright.

"How did I get home last night?" she mumbled to herself, her head pounding.

Even so, she crawled out of bed toward the bathroom. But even after splashing her face with cold water to ease her headache, it barely helped. Dragging herself back to the bedroom, she paused as she noticed the items on the bedside table.

"What is this?" she wondered, picking up a small bouquet and some hangover medicine.

Ashley tilted her head to the side. "Did those guys buy this for me?" she wondered, then focused on the flowers. "But why would they give me flowers?"

"..." She pressed her lips into a thin line as she studied them.

Shrugging, she set them down and didn’t think much of it. She picked up the medicine and popped one into her mouth, hoping it would help.

Ashley was about to crawl back into bed to rest until her hangover passed. But before she could, she paused as a faint aroma hit her nostrils.

"Huh?" She looked toward the door, confused. "Is Nolan cooking downstairs?"

At the thought of food, her stomach grumbled. She had eaten a lot of instant noodles the night before, but somehow she was already hungry again. Besides, the water on the bedside table wasn’t as cold as she wanted.

Thinking that food might ease her hangover, Ashley made her way out.

The second she opened the door, she stopped.

"Huh?" She looked down at a bouquet on the floor. "Another one?"

She picked it up and glanced back at the flower in the bedroom.

"That’s weird," she whispered, hearing faint noises from downstairs. "How did these end up here?"

Ashley scratched her head — this flower mystery was only making her headache worse. She shook her head, holding the second bouquet as she headed toward the stairs. Before she even reached the landing, she stopped mid-step.

There, draped over the curved railing, was another bouquet — a different arrangement, but the same size as the one in her room and the one in her hand.

Ashley picked it up, utterly confused.

"Did Nolan think filling the house with flowers would make it prettier?" she mumbled, shaking her head as she continued down.

By now, she knew it wasn’t her neighbors who had brought these. Aside from that being impossible, they wouldn’t waste their money on her like that.

It took Ashley only a moment to identify the culprit when she reached the dining room and saw a figure busy behind the kitchen counter.

Lucian.

Her brows furrowed as she watched the tall figure rummage through some drawers. Her eyes drifted to the pots and pans on the stove, then to the tray on the counter already set with bowls and a side of fruit.

Ashley dragged her feet slowly toward the kitchen.

"Lucian," she called, her face a picture of genuine confusion. "What are you — are you cooking?"

Her voice snapped Lucian out of his thoughts. He turned to where she stood — eyes still a little swollen, cheeks and lips puffy, hair all over the place. None of that surprised him. What struck him first was the image of the meals she had prepared last night and how she had eaten alone.

He had been trying to finish everything and bring it up to the bedroom before she woke. She had gotten up earlier than expected.

"For the hangover," he said, biting the inside of his cheek as Nolan’s advice from that morning came to mind.

Nolan had lectured him well over coffee, telling him to say more instead of compressing everything into as few words as possible.

"Take a seat," he corrected himself, his phrasing a little stiff. "This will be ready in a bit."

"Oh," was all she could say, looking around in confusion.

Ashley set the flowers on the table, dragged out a chair, and sat down, watching Lucian and glancing around the room.

"Did I wake up in an alternate reality?" she mumbled to herself, eyeing Lucian’s back as he hurried to finish cooking. She narrowed her eyes.

Lucian? Cooking? For her?

Ashley pinched her cheek to see if she was dreaming. It only made her wince.

"Ouch," she whispered, peeking in Lucian’s direction again. "Omo."

He was still there.

Ashley’s brows slowly rose, her eyes widening as she watched him carry a tray of food to the table. He set it carefully in front of her and stood to the side like a butler.

"Eat," he said, his tone as commanding as ever. "It’s good for a hangover."

But instead of following his orders, Ashley just stared at him like a fool, lips slightly parted in utter disbelief. For a while, she even forgot she had a hangover.

As for Lucian, he studied her expression with quiet curiosity. He glanced at the food he had prepared, only to find she wasn’t touching it.

Did she not like this?

He looked everything over on the tray, then straightened up.

"Right," he murmured and turned back toward the kitchen, heading straight to the refrigerator.

Ashley couldn’t take her eyes off him. She watched in disbelief until he returned with a glass of ice-cold water and a pitcher full of ice.

"Water," he said, nudging the glass toward her.

The two of them stared at each other — both curious, but for entirely different reasons. One was wondering whether she didn’t like what he had made for her hangover. The other was thinking something far more ridiculous.

When Ashley couldn’t take it anymore, she asked, "Who... who are you?"

"Huh?"

"Lucian, did you clone yourself?" she scoffed, finally glancing at the light breakfast he had prepared before looking back at the person wearing Lucian’s face and playing butler.

Lucian tilted his head slightly, brows furrowing. The question was ridiculous, but then Nolan’s advice echoed in his head.

Be honest, offer your heart, and clear the misunderstanding.

He cleared his throat and answered, perfectly seriously, "Not yet."

Her face twisted, making him panic internally. So he added, to "clarify,"

"But if there’s a way, I will reconsider."