Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2-Chapter 146: Finalizing the Marriage

Chapter 146: Finalizing the Marriage
The loud knocking at the door jolted Beauty awake at the crack of dawn.
She crawled out from under the covers, her hair a tangled mess, and let out an enormous yawn as she shuffled toward the door with half-lidded eyes.
"Who is it?"
Before she could even finish her sentence, her gaze landed on the man leaning casually against the doorframe.
Dressed in a crisp white shirt and black ankle-length trousers, he propped himself up with one hand, his lips curling into an amused smirk as he watched her.
Beauty’s heart skipped a beat.
She swallowed hard.
"Wh-what are you doing?" she stammered, forcing a scoff.
"Striking a pose like you’re in a magazine shoot or something?"
She shot him a frosty glare before rubbing her eyes and yawning again, already plotting her return to the warm embrace of her bed.
Thanks to *that* mess, she hadn’t slept properly in days.
Today was the first time she’d managed to drift into deep sleep—only to be rudely awakened by *someone* at this ungodly hour.
Unbelievable.
Just as she turned to leave, a pair of strong hands clamped around her arm, holding her in place.
"What do you want?" she whined, pouting up at him with sleepy, pleading eyes.
"I’m exhausted.
Don’t you have work today?
Let me go back to sleep..." Before she could react, he suddenly yanked her into his arms.
Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs for no reason at all.
Lucas’s deep voice rumbled near her ear, smooth and intoxicating, like a melody she couldn’t resist.
Two seconds later, under her wide, stunned gaze, he cupped her face in his hands.
His words were slow, deliberate.
"You have twenty minutes to get ready.
Then grab your household register—we’re going to the civil affairs office."
Wait... *what?* She nearly bit her tongue in shock.
She’d been so caught up in sleep that she’d almost forgotten about the matter, but this was way too sudden!
Seeing her jaw practically hit the floor, Lucas pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved it in front of her, his cold gaze sharp enough to pierce straight through her.
"Didn’t you see the message I sent you last night?"
"What message?
I went to bed early and didn’t check my phone."
As she spoke, she immediately dashed to the bedside and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.
With a quick tap, a message flashed across the screen.
If she had seen it last night, she definitely wouldn’t have slept so soundly.
She would’ve been tossing and turning all over again...
"Um... isn’t this a little too rushed?
Getting married is a huge deal—shouldn’t we pick a good date?
It’d be better for our future as a couple, don’t you think?"
Beauty wasn’t superstitious, but she figured a man like Lucas might have some belief in these things.
So she tilted her chin up and flashed him her most agreeable smile.
At this point, she knew she couldn’t fight against the inevitable.
No matter what, she couldn’t escape Lucas’s grasp.
Resigned, she braced herself.
Lucas crossed his arms, looking down at her with smug disdain.
"You actually believe in that stuff?
Well, I already had someone calculate it for us.
Our birth charts are a perfect match, and there’s no more good day than today to get our marriage license."
Beauty broke into a cold sweat.
Since when had this guy turned into a fortune-telling mystic?
Her delicate brows furrowed in displeasure.
"Are you really sure about this?
You’ve been married before, but this is my first time.
Isn’t this way too reckless?"
Lucas wrapped an arm around her slender waist, his lips curling into a sly grin.
"If you think getting the license like this is too hasty, we can throw the most extravagant wedding the world has ever seen.
Let everyone know you’re Lucas Marson’s wife—how does that sound?"
"That sounds absolutely terrible!
I don’t want to become the target of every woman’s envy in the country.
The moment you announce it, I might not even live to see the next morning’s sunrise.
I have a condition—this stays between us.
Not a word to anyone.
I don’t want people knowing I’m Mrs. Marson.
You’ll have to keep this marriage a secret."
Lucas paused for a second, his thin lips curling into a smirk.
"Agreed.
We’ll just invite a few close friends for a meal—consider it our official wedding.
You can bring your best friend if you want."
"No need for that," she huffed.
"That blabbermouth can’t keep a secret to save her life.
If she finds out, the whole world will know by tomorrow."
It seemed his little hedgehog had taken the bait, step by step walking right into the trap he’d set for her... From now on, she would be his woman in every sense of the word.
The thought sent a thrill through him, though his face remained as unreadable as stone, betraying nothing.
Beauty had been dawdling in the bathroom for nearly half an hour, her legs numb from sitting on the toilet, yet she still refused to move.
The mere thought of signing that marriage certificate with Lucas was enough to give her constipation.
The bathroom door rattled violently under a series of impatient knocks.
Afraid he might kick it down, Beauty quickly squeaked out a response to prove she was still alive.
A low, displeased voice came through the door.
"I thought you’d fallen into the toilet.
Quit stalling.
Whether you face it or run from it, the outcome’s the same.
What’s the point?"
With a loud clatter, the door swung open.
Beauty glared at him, panting.
"Just kill me now and get it over with!"
Lucas’s sharp gaze swept over her like a blade, sending a jolt of fear through her.
Her already numb legs nearly gave way beneath her.
Clutching the doorframe, her expression twisted into something comically desperate.
"Death?" His voice was icy.
"Too easy.
Remember this—alive, you’re mine. Dead, you’re still mine."
"Ugh!
You’re the dead one, you jerk!
You—you perverted old man!"
Beauty was clearly past the point of restraint, her words tumbling out in reckless fury.
Storming into the dressing room with a face full of resentment, she slammed the door shut and began rummaging through the wardrobe in a furious huff.
Lucas lounged comfortably on the sofa, idly toying with his wristwatch, his eyes gleaming with unmistakable smugness.
If not for the fear that the madwoman inside might storm into the kitchen, grab a knife, and drag them both to mutual destruction, he might have even hummed a cheerful tune by now.
Once in the car, Beauty clutched the household register tightly in her hands, her heart restless with anxiety.
She had imagined countless times what kind of man she would eventually marry, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought it would be Lucas.
He was the wealthiest man in all of paris, the idol of countless women’s hearts—what more could she possibly complain about?
The car executed a perfect drift before coming to a smooth stop in front of the Marriage registrar office.
Yet Beauty sat frozen in her seat, as if nailed down, unable to move.
"What are you doing?!"
Before her scattered thoughts could return, she was suddenly swept into a firm embrace.
She struggled violently in his arms, her long legs kicking out in protest, her cheeks burning crimson.
"Behave yourself, or you’ll regret it tonight when we get home."
Beauty: "..." Immediately, she stilled her movements and obediently buried her face in the crook of his arm—better to hide it from view, lest some envious soul take the opportunity to splash acid on her!