Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2-Chapter 153: It kills me to see her like that

Chapter 153: It kills me to see her like that
In the grand hall, Mr. Williams and Emily sat on the sofa with their hands tightly clasped, their unease palpable.
The doctor had just descended the stairs and briefed them on Beauty’s condition, finally allowing their anxious hearts to settle.
Their expressions flickered with uncertainty, their minds weighed down by dread.
They knew Lucas’s temper all too well.
Now that the girl had been hurt under their watch, he’d probably want to skin them alive.
If not for the thin thread of blood tying them together, they might have already been broken into pieces and tossed into the river behind the estate as fish food.
*Thud. Thud. Thud.* Slow, deliberate footsteps descended the staircase, each one tightening the knot in Emily’s chest.
Who else could it be but Lucas?
A cold, imposing figure emerged from the corner, his face like frozen steel, his very presence radiating an icy hostility.
His sharp eyes swept over Williams and Emily like blades, stripping them bare.
Goosebumps prickled across Emily’s skin.
Her hands trembled so violently that her purse slipped from her grasp, its metal chain clattering loudly against the floor.
"Lucas—" "Shut up."
His voice was a whip-crack. "
Let me make this clear—if Beauty’s face scars, I won’t let you off.
Wherever she bears a mark, I’ll make sure you pay for it."
His words cut off Emily’s plea before it could form.
His piercing gaze raked over her face, leaving her ashen and frozen, as if plunged into an abyss of ice.
Mr. Williams rose stiffly, his expression still dark, though his tone softened.
"Lucas, I your father never meant to hurt Beauty.
She was the one who—"
"Get out."
The low growl sent Emily’s heart hammering, her face drained of color.
She shot a desperate look at her husband, lips trembling as if to protest— But Lucas’s voice lashed out again, colder and fiercer.
"Both of you—get the hell out of my sight."
With a loud crash, the water glass and magazines on the table tumbled to the floor, spilling pu-erh tea everywhere.
The household staff held their breath, not daring to make a sound, terrified of provoking the CEO’s wrath and facing dire consequences.
"Beauty is asleep now, and I won’t tolerate any disturbance.
If you don’t leave, I’ll have security drag you out."
Each word exploded through the hall like a hammer strike, leaving no room for argument.
Mr. Williams and Emily exchanged uneasy glances, silently signaling each other before slinking away in defeat.
Emily, in particular, looked like a stray dog kicked out by its owner, her retreating figure pitiful and dejected.
The moment they left, Lucas stormed out as well, his car roaring down the road like a whirlwind.
Other vehicles swerved aside, desperate to avoid any encounter with the furious driver.
After a quick call to Drake—who, surprisingly, was holed up at home playing video games—Lucas sped toward the Cloud Harbor villa district.
The largest mansion there belonged to the Drake family.
The security guard recognized Lucas’s car immediately and swung the gates open.
The vehicle shot straight into the underground garage, where rows of Drake’s luxury cars were parked in an impressive display, rivaling even Lucas’s own collection.
Both men were car enthusiasts—fast cars and beautiful women were their shared indulgences.
"Good evening, Mr. Marson!"
The household staff bowed and greeted him eagerly, their excitement barely contained.
If there was one man in all of New York who could match their boss in looks and status—or even surpass him in wealth—it was Lucas.
Pushing the door open, Lucas found Drake sprawled on the carpet, engrossed in his game.
At the sound of the door, Drake whipped his head around.
Recognizing the visitor, the man arched his well-defined brows and grinned, "What brings the mighty CEO Marson to my humble abode today?
Shouldn’t you be home pampering your wife instead of coming here to flaunt your happiness in front of this lonely bachelor?
And next time, could you at least knock?
What if I were in the middle of something important?
You’d scare the life out of me!"
Lucas let out a cold chuckle, crossing his legs as he settled into the sofa, his expression dripping with disdain.
"From what I know, the only woman you’ve ever brought home for ’exercise’ is Sarah."
The mention of Sarah instantly soured Drake mood, killing his enthusiasm for gaming.
He tossed the controller onto the floor with a clatter.
"You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?
Is Sarah really dating that Ryan guy?
Lately, he’s been all over her—picking her up from work, taking her out to dinner every night.
It’s driving me insane with jealousy."
"Who’s to blame but yourself?
From what I see, that Ryan fellow treats her far better than you ever did."
"Bullshit!
You know damn well how I treated Sarah.
I’d have ripped my heart out for her if she asked. And her? She didn’t even glance at it—just stomped all over it instead.
Tell me, who’s the cruel one here?"
Drake slumped onto the wool rug, rolling up the cuffs of his cropped pants before leaning back against the sofa, his eyes clouded with dejection.
"Let’s have a drink."
He turned his head, a sly glint in his eyes as a cold smirk played on his lips.
"Well, well.
The great CEO Marson gracing my place for a drink?
Did little Beauty dump you?
Tsk tsk... Never thought I’d see the day."
Before he could finish, a sharp kick sent him yelping in pain.
He sprang up from the floor, glaring furiously.
"Lucas, are you out of your mind?
Can’t handle your wife, so you take it out on me?
I’m in a foul mood myself and wouldn’t mind venting on someone!"
"Oh really? I’m actually in a great mood today.
Beauty called me ’hubby’—that sweet, tender voice of hers.
Something you’ll probably never experience in this lifetime."
Lucas leaned back against the sofa cushions, a smug smirk curling his lips as he deliberately provoked.
"Damn it!
You came here just to rub it in, didn’t you?
Take your gloating somewhere else.
I’m not in the mood today—don’t push me."
Drake sharp, fox-like eyes blazed with fury, as if flames might erupt from them at any second, his expression downright terrifying.
Ten minutes later, the two men were seated in the wine cellar.
Under the dazzling chandelier, Drake selected a bottle of vintage wine that had been cellared for over a decade, pouring it into a decanter before summoning the household chef to prepare two steaks.
Lucas leaned back against the sofa, silent for a moment before speaking.
"Beauty, got hurt today... because of me."
*Clink.*
Drake set his glass down sharply on the stone table, his sharp brows knitting together.
"What happened?
What kind of injury?
How bad is it?
Damn it, man!
Your wife gets hurt, and instead of staying by her side, you come here to drink?"
Lucas took a slow sip of the deep red liquid in his glass.
His voice was quiet but strained.
"Just a minor injury.
My father threw a teacup—it hit her temple.
Took three stitches."
He exhaled sharply. "It kills me to see her like that."