Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2-Chapter 192: Uninvited guess

Chapter 192: Uninvited guess
Beauty had been recuperating at home for a week and could already walk around, though the wound on her knee hadn’t fully healed.
Still, she was overjoyed by this progress.
Unexpectedly, an uninvited guest arrived.
The moment she heard the voice, she knew it was Nathalie.
*This woman really has no shame,* she thought to herself.
*Even after how Lucas treated her, she still hasn’t given up.
* Dressed in a long skirt, Beauty descended the stairs.
Hearing the sound, both Nathalie and Laura turned to look at her.
Laura sneered with undisguised contempt, "I thought some people would be crippled for life!
How convenient that you’re putting on such a pitiful act in front of my brother—just to make him feel sorry for you.
What a scheming woman!" Beauty ignored her and headed to the kitchen to grab a plate of freshly baked cookies before making her way back upstairs.
Nathalie spoke up coldly, "Beauty, what kind of tricks did you use to make Lucas so indifferent toward me now?
He was never like this before.
You must have said something to him."
Beauty stiffened for a second before smiling faintly.
"Didn’t she just say it? It’s because of my injured knee.
If you took a nasty fall like I did, maybe Lucas would be gentler with you too."
Nathalie’s delicate brows twitched in anger.
"Don’t think just because you’re injured, you can play the victim in front of him.
Wounds heal eventually—let’s see what you’ll use to win his heart then!"
Beauty burst into laughter, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"I’m his wife. Why would I need to *win* anything?
That marriage certificate alone means I’ve already beaten everyone else."
"Don’t celebrate too soon,"Nathalie hissed.
"You think an injury is enough to keep Lucas by your side forever?
Don’t forget—every time he looks at me, he’s reminded of his late wife.
That’s something you’ll *never* measure up to."
"Still better than someone who spends every day imitating a dead woman," Beauty retorted coolly.
"I doubt Lucas enjoys seeing a carbon copy of his late wife parading in front of him.
Nathalie, you really don’t understand him at all."
With that, she let out a soft, mocking laugh and took a delicate bite of a cookie, her lips curling slightly.
Nathalie flushed the crimson, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Oh, and *you* understand him so well, Beauty?
Just because you share a bed with him, you think you know him inside out?"
"Regardless, I understand him far better than you do," Beauty replied smoothly.
"He wants a future, not to drown in the past.
What I offer him is a future full of promise—while you..." Beauty curled her lips into a cold smirk.
"All you can do is keep him trapped in the past.
Sooner or later, he’ll lose interest in you completely—just like before—and cast you aside without a second thought."
Nathalie, her eyes blazing with fury, lunged forward and grabbed Beauty’s arm, her fingers digging in like claws.
"A woman like you, born into nothing, isn’t worthy of Lucas!" she spat through gritted teeth.
"He’ll throw you out of this house one day, mark my words!" Lucas watched the scene unfold with detached amusement, his expression unreadable.
A plate slipped from his grasp, crashing to the floor with loud *clatter*, scattering cookies everywhere.
The servants, spotting Laura nearby, hesitated to intervene, scattering like startled birds.
None dared risk the young mistress’s wrath—losing their jobs wasn’t worth it.
**"What’s going on here?"**
The argument had been so heated that no one noticed the car pulling in or the heavy footsteps approaching.
Nathalie’s legs gave way in fright, and she collapsed to the floor.
Her face drained of color as she stammered, "Y-Lucas... Beauty tried to make me fall and hurt my knee like hers!
I only pushed her because I was defending myself!"
Standing behind Lucas, Sarah immediately stepped forward, steadying Beauty with a firm grip.
She glanced down at the fresh scrape on her knee, concern knitting her brows.
"Beauty, are you okay?
Your wound just healed—why are you fighting with *her* again?" Beauty scoffed, eyeing the mess on the floor.
"You think I *want* to deal with her?
Blame *someone else* for this!" Her gaze flicked pointedly to Lucas, her delicate brows furrowing in resentment.
If he hadn’t been flaunting his charms outside, no woman would have dared show up at their doorstep!
Lucas’s expression darkened.
He’d come home with good intentions, hoping to share a meal with his wife—only to be met with icy glares.
His cold stare swept over Nathalie, sending a chill down her spine.
"Lucas, don’t just listen to her side of the story!
She was the one who tried to push me just now—she wanted me to end up with ruined knees like hers!
Ask the servants if you don’t believe me!
Ask Laura if it’s not true!"
Nathalie’s voice trembled, whether from fear or agitation, as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Her fingers twisted together so tightly they turned white, and her lips were nearly bitten raw.
Lucas’s expression darkened, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes.
"Who let you in here?" His voice was icy.
"Didn’t I make it clear before? You’re never to come here and cause trouble for Beauty again.
Or are my words just noise to you?"
A suffocating silence fell over the grand hall, so thick that even the drop of a pin would have echoed.
Everyone held their breath, their gazes locked on Lucas, bracing for the storm they knew would follow.
The security guards by the entrance were especially petrified, their legs nearly giving out beneath them.
If Lucas decided to hold them accountable, they’d be the first to face his wrath—likely fired on the spot.
The thought alone had them sweating bullets.
"From now on, no one lets her in," he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension.
"Anyone who disobeys this order can pack their things and leave immediately."
The words were unmistakably directed at Laura.
Her face drained of color, the coffee cup in her hand trembling slightly.
She stared at Lucas in disbelief.
How could her brother—the one who had doted on her for years—side with that woman she despised so much?
Fury burned in her chest, her eyes reddening with unshed tears.
Sarah, seeing that Beauty was unharmed, offered a conciliatory smile.
"Since Beauty’s fine, let’s just drop it.
Just make sure she doesn’t come back."
Nathalie remained on the floor, her tear-streaked face a mask of shock.
Her nails scraped against the hardwood, as if she could claw her way out of this humiliation.
Beauty motioned for the servants to clean up the mess, her gaze cool as it settled on Nathalie.
After a brief pause, she spoke, her voice steady.
"I don’t want to see you here again.
Leave."
The dismissal was clear.
Every eye in the room burned into Nathalie—including Lucas’s, his brow furrowed in silent relief.
Thank God he’d arrived in time.
If things had escalated, if Beauty had been hurt again in the scuffle—his chest tightened at the thought.
The mere possibility was unbearable.