Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2-Chapter 133: Annual Anniversary in France

Chapter 133: Annual Anniversary in France
The Marson Corporation’s annual conference was held in France.
Beauty had the privilege of flying to Paris on Lucas’s private jet, accompanied by Sarah, Lena and Nathalie.
The atmosphere inside the cabin was tense, a far cry from the lively excitement one might expect for a company event.
Lucas sat in his seat, engrossed in his laptop, while Lena and Sarah had already slipped on their eye masks and dozed off.
The spacious cabin suddenly felt uncomfortably awkward.
Nathalie sat beside Lucas, flipping through a copy of *Time* magazine, her eyes occasionally darting toward his screen as she asked him a few questions.
Seated further back, Beauty couldn’t sleep or focus on reading.
Instead, she stared blankly out the window at the cotton candy-like clouds drifting past.
By the time the plane landed at Paris Airport, it was already midnight.
As they disembarked, a company representative from their local partner had arranged a shuttle van to greet them.
"Mr. Marson, the hotel and late-night supper have been prepared as per your company’s arrangements.
Our chairman is delighted to welcome you and these lovely ladies," the driver said in fluent Mandarin—clearly no ordinary chauffeur.
He shook hands warmly with Lucas, and the two exchanged pleasantries.
The hotel was located in a villa district not far from the city center, also the venue for the next day’s conference.
The area was brightly lit, with a thin layer of snow still dusting the ground.
"Have my family members arrived at the hotel yet?" Lucas asked.
"Your family has already been received and is currently dining at the hotel.
Your adorable younger sister is with them as well."
The mention of Laura made Beauty’s head throb.
Neither Emily nor Lucas’s father were people she could afford to cross.
It seemed this New Year’s gathering wouldn’t be as pleasant as she’d hoped.
Suddenly, Lucas turned his chiseled face toward her, his thin lips parting slightly.
"Beauty," he said in that smooth baritone, "once we get to the hotel, freshen up and change.
Then you’ll accompany me to visit Grandpa and Grandma.
They mentioned how much they’ve missed seeing you."
"Of course," she replied, maintaining perfect composure despite the flutter in her chest.
Though she’d only met Marson’s grandparents once before, she held deep respect and affection for them—especially Grandma Marson with her warm, crinkled smile.
The luxury sedan glided to a stop beneath the hotel’s marquee.
Uniformed attendants swarmed forward with practiced enthusiasm, their white-gloved hands reaching for luggage before doors fully opened.
Beauty shifted uncomfortably as a particularly statuesque French bellman insisted on wresting her suitcase from her grip.
"Really, I can manage my own—" she protested three times before surrendering with an embarrassed smile.
Stepping into the grand lobby was like entering a European palace.
Crystal chandeliers rained light over marble floors, their prisms dancing across oil paintings that probably cost more than her annual salary.
Every antique side table and gilded mirror whispered of old-world opulence.
Their group’s suites occupied the same exclusive floor—an arrangement that placed Beauty’s room directly across from Lucas’s. Coincidence?
She doubted it.
As the bellman positioned her key card against the reader, Lucas’s voice sliced through the corridor’s hush: "Make yourself presentable.
Remember, you’re representing me as my girlfriend tonight."
His tone carried the chill of a winter wind.
The door clicked shut harder than intended.
"Don’t worry," she muttered through the wood, "I won’t embarrass you."
Her delicate brows knitted as she leaned against the closed door.
Was she really such an eyesore?
If he found her so lacking, why not replace her properly?
Nathalie would probably jump at the chance to play the doting girlfriend for his family gatherings.
The thought left a bitter taste as she surveyed the lavish suite that suddenly felt like a gilded cage.
Just as I was about to head for a shower, another knock sounded at the door.
Irritation flared as I yanked it open without bothering to look.
"For heaven’s sake, boss," I snapped, "if you’ve got more instructions, could you just tell me everything at once?"
"Beauty, it’s me."
My head jerked up to see Nathalie standing there, her delicate eyebrows arching in surprise as she spoke with deliberate calm.
Beauty’s face flushed crimson with embarrassment.
"Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I thought you were the boss.
What brings you here, Miss Nathalie?"
Nathalie hesitated briefly, her practiced smile never wavering.
"May I come in?"
After a pause, Beauty nodded and stepped aside.
They’d never exchanged more than polite greetings before—why would Nathalie seek her out now?
The question gnawed at her as she closed the door.
The visiting beauty settled gracefully onto the sofa, her radiant smile at odds with the hesitation in her eyes.
She toyed with a strand of her silken hair, clearly choosing her words.
"Miss Nathalie," Beauty cut straight to the chase, plopping down beside her with unvarnished bluntness, "let’s skip the pleasantries.
I prefer direct talk—spit it out."
A delicate blush crept across Nathalie’s porcelain cheeks.
"I... I heard Lucas’s grandparents are in town.
You’ll be meeting them later?" Her voice carried the lilt of carefully rehearsed casualness.
"Yep." Beauty crunched into an apple slice from the fruit bowl, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.
"What about it?"
The question hung between them for a heartbeat before Nathalie leaned forward, her jasmine perfume wafting between them.
"Would you mind if I joined you?
As Lucas’s... friend, I should pay my respects to the Marson family elders too."
Her manicured fingers twisted the fabric of her designer skirt, betraying her nervous anticipation.
*Crunch* Beauty took a leisurely bite of her apple, the crisp sound echoing in the quiet room.
She chewed absentmindedly, swallowing slowly, before falling silent for a couple of seconds.
Then, with little thought, she took another half-hearted bite.
"Why don’t you talk to him about it yourself?" she said, her tone indifferent.
"I don’t have any say in this matter.
I’m just someone he adopted—I don’t hold any real standing in the Marson family."
She assumed Nathalie was trying to cozy up to her in hopes of winning Lucas’s favor, so she quickly distanced herself from him.
It was the truth, after all.
She was just a nobody in the Marson household, a girl he’d taken in out of charity.
The only reason she was even here, posing as his girlfriend, was because he needed her to play the part in front of his family.
Nathalie pressed her lips together, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap, her expression uneasy.
Seeing her like this, Beauty cleared her throat.
"Alright, look," she offered, softening slightly.
"When Mr. Marson finishes getting ready, I’ll ask him for you.
But I really can’t promise anything."
Before she could react, Nathalie suddenly grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly.
The unexpected gesture startled her.
Nathalie sprang up from the couch, her face lighting up with gratitude.
"Oh, thank you!
I’ll be waiting for your good news.
Here’s my number—save it, okay?
Whether he agrees or not, just send me a message.
I really, really appreciate this, Beauty!"
It wasn’t until Nathalie had left the room that Beauty finally processed what had just happened.
*So she’s dead set on becoming Lucas’s woman, huh?*
Not that she could blame her.
A man like him—handsome, powerful, the kind who could make or break fortunes in paris—what woman wouldn’t be drawn to him?
Had *she* been drawn to him?
Maybe a little.
But she wasn’t sure if she *should* be.
And she definitely didn’t know if there was any future in it.