Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2-Chapter 174: Moving in with Sarah

Chapter 174: Moving in with Sarah
As soon as she got off work in the evening, Beauty returned to the villa, grabbed a suitcase, and had Lucas call the driver and the housekeeper before heading straight to Sarah’s place.
The moment she stepped into the grand hall, she spotted a few people pacing around, jotting down notes and calculating something.
Walking further into the courtyard, she found Sarah standing motionless under a grapevine trellis, her expression clouded with melancholy.
"Sarah, who are those people in the hall?
They look like they’re measuring or calculating something," Beauty set down her suitcase, walked over, and placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder, her wide eyes brimming with curiosity.
Sarah turned and immediately noticed the luggage in her hand, her brows knitting in surprise.
"Beauty, what’s with the suitcase?"
Grinning, Beauty patted the luggage.
"Special permission from the big boss himself—I’m here to keep you company for a few days.
I figured you could use someone to talk to when you’re feeling down."
In an instant, a shimmer of emotion rippled across Sarah’s clear eyes.
She sighed softly.
"Well, I might only be here for a few days myself.
I’ve decided to sell this house.
With Dad’s company gone and a mountain of debt left behind, I’m putting the property up to cover some of the losses.
It’s the least I can do to make up for his mistakes."
"But... where will you live if you sell it?" Beauty gasped, stunned.
She hadn’t realized things had gotten so bad for Sarah—selling the family home was far more drastic than she’d imagined.
A pang of guilt twisted in her chest; she wished she had enough savings to help, but her own funds were meager.
Sarah forced a smile.
"With Mom and Dad gone, what does ’home’ even mean anymore?
I’m not the pampered heiress I used to be.
This place is too big for just me anyway.
After selling it, I should have enough left to buy a small apartment.
It’s not like I need much space—just somewhere for myself."
"But... this is your home.
The place you grew up in.
Are you really okay with letting it go?"
Beauty’s voice wavered, her own memories of leaving home at a young age surfacing.
Sarah exhaled, her delicate fingers tracing the grapevines as a bitter smile touched her lips.
"You of all people should understand.
Without family, a house is just walls.
Over the years, the money I made working with Lucas all went into patching up Dad’s financial mess.
I don’t have much left, but it’s enough for a modest place.
Maybe someday, when Dad’s out, I’ll get something bigger.
Who knows?
A smaller apartment might actually feel more like home than this mansion ever did."
Life is full of countless moments where we must make choices and sacrifices.
Though difficult, once you push through, it never feels as hard as it seems.
Sarah stepped into the grand hall and negotiated with the men for a few more minutes before they finally drove off—likely to find potential buyers for her.
After all, a luxury estate in this prime location would sell in no time.
She had dismissed all the household staff, paying them an extra month’s wages to ease their transition.
Now, the vast mansion stood empty, with only her and Beauty left inside.
For the first time, Beauty truly understood what Sarah had meant about the discomfort of living alone in such a cavernous space.
The emptiness pressed in from all sides, leaving her with an unsettling sense of vulnerability.
"Did they give any estimate on how soon the house might sell?" she asked, sinking into the sofa.
The room was so large her words seemed to echo back at her.
"When it’s time to move, you *have* to call me.
I might not be much help with heavy lifting, but I can at least keep you company and help organize things."
She couldn’t even imagine how exhausting these past weeks must have been for Sarah—juggling her father’s business affairs while handling the sale of this massive property alone.
No wonder her messages often went unanswered.
"Have you been cooking for yourself these days?"
Beauty wandered into the kitchen and peered into the fridge.
It was practically barren—not even a single leafy green in sight.
Her brows are knitted in concern.
"Not really," Sarah admitted with a tired shrug.
"I don’t know how to cook.
Sometimes I grab takeout, sometimes I just... skip meals."
"That’s *not* okay!"
Beauty exclaimed, hands on her hips.
"Good food is one of life’s few non-negotiable!
I may not be a master chef, but I can still whip up something better than takeout.
How about we hit the grocery store and stock up for a hotpot night?"
A hopeful grin tugged at her lips as she glanced at Sarah.
If they stayed cooped up in this hollow house any longer, she worried her friend might spiral.
One way or another, she was dragging her outside.
"I... don’t really feel like going out lately.
It just makes me uneasy..."
"*Absolutely* not!
You *need* fresh air," Beauty insisted, eyes sparkling with playful determination.
"Besides, I’ve been *dying* for hotpot.
Ever since my head injury, Lucas’s banned the house chef from making it for me.
I’m practically a starving kitten at this point!"
Although Sarah was still somewhat reluctant to go out, she had practically locked herself in her empty room over the past couple of days, drawing the curtains and sitting motionless for hours on end, sinking deeper into depression.
Eventually, she was practically dragged out of the house.
As they wandered aimlessly through the supermarket, a faint hint of color finally returned to Sarah’s pale face.
"Sarah, what flavors do you like?"
Beauty tossed the groceries onto the kitchen counter and glanced back at her casually.
"Anything’s fine.
I’ll have whatever you’re having."
"I like it spicy—the hotter, the better."
Beauty stashed the beer in the fridge, rummaged through the cupboard for an apron, and immediately got to work in the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans filling the air.
Watching her bustle around, Sarah finally managed a faint smile.
"Need any help, Chef Beauty?"
"Sure, you can wash and trim these green spices, then arrange them neatly on a plate."
Without hesitation, Beauty tossed her several bundles of vegetables.
Keeping busy was the best way to temporarily forget unhappiness—something she’d learned from a young age.
So when she saw Sarah, who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen before, started picking and washing the green spices, she finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.
She could tell at a glance that Sarah hadn’t slept well for days.
Tonight, she planned to get her drunk—enough to knock her out for a good, long rest.
Even if her own alcohol tolerance wasn’t exactly stellar.
Soon, the steaming hot pot was ready.
As they carried the plates of fresh ingredients to the table, the mood lightened instantly.
"Smells amazing!
This is a secret recipe—took me forever to find it.
You’ve gotta try it, Sarah."
Beauty dropped a slice of lamb into Sarah’s bowl and handed her a cold beer from the fridge.
They dug into the bubbling hot pot, washing it down with beer.
Empty cans soon littered the table, and before long, Sarah was swaying slightly, her head swimming.
Maybe it was because she’d been so worn out lately—she barely had a few sips before the alcohol hit her hard.