Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2-Chapter 136: Lucas quest for a first dance from Beauty

Chapter 136: Lucas quest for a first dance from Beauty
Another day ended on a sour note.
Upon learning what Beauty had been through, the Marson family matriarch doted on her even more.
Suddenly, all fingers were pointed at Emily.
Her previous arrogance gradually fizzled out, replaced by a sullen silence before she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Beauty remained quiet the entire way back.
To her, both her grandfather and Lucas had shown her kindness.
She was the kind of person who repaid both favors and grudges in kind.
As for Emily—even if Beauty didn’t seek revenge, the woman would probably keep coming after her anyway.
Once she got her diploma, she’d sever all ties with the Marson family for good.
Then she’d stay far away from them—out of sight, out of mind.
All these troubles would vanish like smoke in the wind.
Lucas saw right through her thoughts, his lips curling slightly.
"Stop overthinking it.
With me here, you’ve got nothing to worry about.
Tomorrow’s company gala—I’ll ask you for the first dance.
Be ready."
"Oh... I’m exhausted.
I’m going to rest."
The relentless overtime had already drained her, and today’s events left her mentally and emotionally spent.
She had no energy left to spar with Lucas.
All she wanted was to bury herself under the covers and sleep it all away, forgetting every last bit of this mess.
"No goodnight kiss?"
Leaning casually against the wall, hands tucked in his pockets, Lucas looked effortlessly at ease.
His thin lips curved into a perfect, teasing smirk.
Beauty froze for a second, her cheeks flushing pink.
Then, as if bewitched, she stepped forward, her face drawing closer on its own.
Lucas’s devastatingly handsome yet icy features loomed larger before her.
*Pop.* The sound barely escaped when she swiftly pulled away.
In a flash, she swiped her key card and slammed the door shut behind her.
She didn’t dare linger a second longer—if Lucas took her sudden teasing to heart, she’d probably be limping her way through tomorrow’s dance performance.
And then?
The whole company would be laughing at her. ...
The Marson Group’s annual gala was held in the grand ballroom of an upscale villa district hotel.
Every dish was prepared on the spot by world-class chefs—a true feast for the senses, mouthwatering in every way.
Beauty stood out in a moon-white evening gown, her chestnut hair elegantly pinned up to reveal a swan-like neck.
Every step she took was graceful, effortless, making her the center of attention.
This gown had been custom-designed for her a month ago under Lucas’s orders, crafted by a top international designer.
After countless revisions, the final piece was hand-painted by artisans over twenty painstaking days—a one-of-a-kind masterpiece.
Its simplicity exuded sophistication, destined to become next season’s must-have for high society’s elite.
The delicate chiffon cinched her waist, accentuating her slender, almost ethereal figure. Under the spotlight, she and the dress seemed to merge into one luminous vision.
Every eye in the room was drawn to the radiant woman standing beside Lucas.
Drake swirled his wine glass, lips quirking in amusement.
"Looks like Beauty and our dear Lucas are quite the match—a perfect pair, brains and beauty.
Though, raising your own lamb just to savor it bite by bite...
Now that’s something only *he* could pull off."
Nathalie and Samantha stood nearby, catching every word.
Her face instantly turned deathly pale, her rosy lips pressed tightly together as she clenched her fists in silent fury.
She had always assumed Beauty and Lucas shared nothing more than a familial bond.
Never had she imagined their relationship was romantic.
The memory of shamelessly begging Beauty for help came flooding back—how the girl had hesitated before finally agreeing with that infuriatingly sweet smile.
The realization that she’d been played by some naive little thing made her blood boil.
Nathalie had never been denied anything she truly wanted.
Since childhood, she’d been the pampered princess of her family.
"Beauty, you’ll pay for this!" she seethed inwardly, her delicate willow-leaf eyebrows arching sharply.
"You think your pretentious act and pretty face can secure your place beside Lucas?
A nobody like you isn’t worthy!"
This dramatic transformation didn’t escape Samantha’s observant gaze from beside her.
Things were getting interesting.
Looping her arm through Drake, Samantha’s eyes sparkled with malicious amusement.
She’d long disliked any woman who dared get close to Sarah.
The melodious piano notes cascaded like pearls upon jade plates.
Dazzling lights danced across the fountain at the dance floor’s center, transforming water droplets into blooming floral spectacles.
Bathed in warm golden hues, the grand lotus chandelier cast its glow upon Beauty, illuminating her exquisite features until she resembled a celestial maiden descended from the heavens.
Standing prominently on the elevated platform in his perfectly tailored moon-white suit, Lucas moved with deliberate grace.
His deer-like eyes burned with intensity as they followed her—the gaze one reserves for priceless treasures.
Their custom-designed couple’s evening wear told its own story.
The embroidery on his cuffs perfectly mirrored the delicate patterns along her skirt’s hem, creating flawless harmony.
"Miss Beauty, may I have the honor of the first waltz tonight?"
With a slight bow, perfectly measured to make every woman in the room swoon, he sent the first wave of excitement rippling through the grand ballroom.
Handsome men and beautiful women moved in pairs, their figures gliding across the floor.
Beauty’s cool eyes flickered with silent mockery.
*He had already told her yesterday he’d ask her for the first dance.
Now he’s putting on this show of formality—who’s he trying to impress?
She didn’t respond, nor did she extend her hand.
Instead, she regarded him with an unreadable gaze, the corners of her lips curling into a faint, crescent-like smile.
She wanted to see how he’d handle being left hanging in front of so many people.
The entire ballroom held its breath, waiting for Beaty’s answer.
After all, in paris, no woman dared refuse Lucas’s invitation—unless she had a death wish.
Her delicate brows arched slightly, her eyes glinting with mischief.
She refused to answer, refused to make the first move, her amusement dancing at the edges of her lips.
Inside, she was already gloating, though her expression remained as serene as a calm lake.
"What’s wrong?
Too happy to speak?"
Suddenly, Lucas stepped forward, his well-defined fingers gently ruffling her hair with unexpected tenderness, his face softening with a look of affection no one had ever seen before.
The ballroom erupted in gasps and whispers, like a stone tossed into still water, sending ripples of shock through the crowd.
"Oh my God, I never knew our CEO could be so warm!
Am I hallucinating?"
"No, no... I think I’ve stopped breathing.
I’m so jealous of Beauty!"
The women around them nearly lost their minds.
Only Beauty stood there, utterly defeated, biting her lip in frustration.
Of course the old fox would outmaneuver her.
He had caught her completely off guard.*