CHAPTER 92: YOU MISJUDGED ME

Beauty woke up feeling like every bone in her body was about to fall apart.

Thankfully, Lucas had already left for the office.

This floor was practically deserted, and the maids only came to clean if they noticed a door left open.

Clutching her clothes, she dashed back to her own room in her nightgown.

Just as she turned the corner, she ran into one of their maids.

The woman gave her a knowing smile that sent chills down her spine, nearly making her stumble.

Everything that had happened the night before felt like a dream—all the pleasure and tenderness now buried under the morning sun.

During the car ride to school, she kept pressing the driver for details about Lucas’s schedule for the day, but he remained tight-lipped.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that she finally spotted a familiar figure in the first cafeteria.

He was slouched in a plain black T-shirt, looking utterly exhausted.

"Dyson."

She approached him and called his name softly.

He lifted his head, offering her a strained smile before reaching for her tray.

"Let’s eat outside," he said quietly.

"There’s something I need to tell you."

Beauty nodded silently, her fingers twisting together anxiously.

A sense of foreboding settled in her chest—this might be their last meal together here.

Sure enough, as soon as they ordered, he let out a bitter chuckle.

"Beauty, this might be the last time we eat here together."

"What’s he planning to do to you?"

She knew Lucas’s temperament all too well—once he made up his mind, nothing and no one could sway him.

Perhaps she really had ruined him.

She didn’t even dare to plead for him, terrified of provoking that ruthless man again.

Who knew what extremes he might resort to next?

"Actually, it wasn’t that bad," Dayson said with a faint smile.

"He just had the school send me abroad—four years of studying overseas. Whether that’s a good or bad thing for me, I can’t say."

Beauty let out a slow breath of relief.

So Lucas wasn’t as monstrous as she’d imagined.

"But he forbade me from studying design," Dyson added after a brief pause, his eyes clouded with sorrow.

"Said I’d never be allowed into the design industry again."

In the time they’d spent together, Beauty had seen firsthand how deeply Dyson loved design—no less than she did.

The thought of Lucas coldly crushing someone’s dreams made her blood boil.

"Let’s go confront him!

Who does he think he is, dictating someone else’s future like that?"

Furious, she shot to her feet and grabbed Dyson’s hand, dragging him toward the restaurant exit.

The sudden commotion drew stares from the other diners.

"Beauty, you might not fully understand Lucas yet," Dyson said quietly, stopping her.

"He has connections in both legal and underground circles.

He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.

I once interned at a company that was a decent competitor to Marson Corporation.

Within a month, he bankrupted them.

The owner ended up drowning in debt and took his own life."

Though she’d always known people feared Lucas, this was the first time she’d heard firsthand just how merciless he could be.

Beauty froze, her face paling.

If she acted recklessly now, her righteous anger might cost Dyson everything. Her hands slowly fell to her sides, her face glistening with tears.

At last, she understood the meaning of that old saying: "Though you didn’t wield the blade, the man died because of you."

Dyson was far more optimistic than she had imagined.

Gently stroking her silky hair, his bright eyes shimmered like stars.

"You could look at it this way—maybe Lucas funding my study abroad isn’t entirely a bad thing.

For someone from a family like mine, going overseas is nearly impossible.

This might actually be an opportunity for me.

Though it does mean I won’t see you for a while."

His optimism eased some of the guilt weighing on Beauty’s heart.

She wiped her reddened eyes and forced a bright smile.

"Did he ask anything else of you?

Do you really think Lucas would just send you abroad out of kindness?"

Something about it didn’t sit right with her. The more she thought, the more she suspected there was more to it.

Unable to hold back, she voiced her doubts.

Dyson paused for a second before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Then, leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

His arm trembled slightly.

"No, nothing else.

He just wants to keep us apart.

But it might be four years before we see each other again.

He made me promise not to contact you during that time.

Do you... hate me for agreeing?"

Beauty shook her head.

"Of course not.

It’s because of me that you couldn’t even choose your own major.

I just hope you won’t regret it later.

Maybe I really am the jinx everyone says I am."

She managed a small, bitter laugh.

"I’ll visit your mom often while you’re gone."

They lingered on the path a while longer.

Since neither had urgent classes that afternoon, they decided to stay together.

Beauty had already asked Hannah to cover for her during roll call.

Now, she and Dyson sat in a pavilion nestled in the hills behind campus.

Reeds swayed thickly in the pond, and the occasional croak of a frog broke the quiet.

Leaning against the railing, Beauty tore pieces from a bread roll, expertly feeding the koi that darted below.

"Beauty," Dyson said softly, "will you think of me often after I’m gone?"

"Of course I will. I’ll remember you for the rest of my life.

In four years, I should be free too.

When you come back, you must promise to find me!"

Having experienced life-and-death separations since childhood, goodbyes weren’t particularly earth-shattering for her—just a matter of time.

So she wasn’t overwhelmed with sorrow, just a quiet melancholy settling in her heart.

First love was like eating an orange—it looked irresistibly sweet, and the moment the juice burst in your mouth, it was pure bliss.

But afterward, the lingering aftertaste stayed with you for a long time.

Sometimes, even the tartest oranges could be surprisingly refreshing. ...

On the day Dyson left, Beauty didn’t see him off. She didn’t even say goodbye.

Because that day, Lucas had dragged her to an important banquet.

She had sulked in the dressing room for what felt like forever.

Sarah and the assistant had coaxed her endlessly before she finally agreed to put on the evening gown.

Rumor had it Lucas was so furious that he smashed his phone on the spot, shattering it to pieces.

Sarah, who had never seen Lucas lose his temper so violently in front of so many people, was frozen in shock.

Beauty hadn’t witnessed his outburst, but the moment she hooked her arm around his, she could feel the suffocating tension in the air. His palm was ice-cold.

That night, she lost count of how many drinks she took for him.

It was as if Lucas and the others had conspired to drown her in alcohol.

And from start to finish, he never once stepped in to stop them, letting those old men pour glass after glass down her throat until she could barely find the hotel exit.

Then, when they returned to the room that night, she was thoroughly punished by a certain someone.

It felt like countless knives were scraping against her skin.

Before passing out, the only thing she remembered was Lucas’s voice at her ear, repeating over and over: **"You misjudged him."**