Chapter 142: Lunch with surprises
The final pin was placed. The last hem was inspected. The tailor stepped back with a satisfied nod, murmuring something about lining options and delivery times. Lucas didn’t wait for the closing remarks. The moment the pincushion was out of reach, he sprang to life—awkwardly, stiffly, like a deer trying to remember how legs worked—but it was movement nonetheless.
"I’m going to the car," he announced, already halfway toward the door, ignoring the look of horror on the assistant’s face as he brushed past a neatly arranged stack of swatches.
"Windstone is waiting."
He made it three steps into the boutique’s main hall before he heard her voice. Calm. Inevitable.
"Lucas D’Argente Fitzgeralt, if you take another step, I will have the store locked down and inform your husband that you ran barefoot into traffic to escape a fabric consultation."
Lucas froze, hand on the door, spine stiffening as though struck by lightning. "You wouldn’t."
She appeared behind him with terrifying silence, setting her tablet down on the counter like a weapon holstered for later. "Darling, I once smuggled a diplomatic letter in a hatbox while under siege. You think I can’t handle one runaway omega in designer shoes?"
Lucas turned slowly, caught somewhere between surrender and despair. "You kidnapped me. Now it’s the time for me to break free."
Marchioness Fitzgeralt merely lifted one brow, unbothered. "Not under my watch."
She looped her arm through his with the iron grip of a woman who had tamed three sons, two emperors, and an economic crash. "Come on. We need some bonding time before you return and Serathine comes like a storm."
Lucas blinked. "You’re afraid of Serathine?"
NovelFire
"No," she said crisply. "I’m realistic. The woman once reorganized a wedding mid-ceremony because she didn’t like the seating plan."