CHAPTER 193: FAMILY TROUBLES

I closed my eyes and pressed the glass of water against my cheek, trying not to melt in front of him.

He stood again and gave me a soft smile. "If you’re not feeling well, I can bring you home."

"No!" I said too quickly, nearly choking on my tongue. "I mean...I’m fine. Really. I want to stay."

He looked surprised, but pleased. "Alright then. Just let me know if you need anything."

I nodded, though what I needed was for this maddening heat to stop devouring me from the inside out.

Lucas moved behind the canvas once more, but I could feel him watching me through the gaps in the frame.

And for the first time, I didn’t mind. In fact, I hoped he looked longer.

-

Lucas remained behind the canvas for the rest of the evening, sketching with focused intensity. The quick, deliberate strokes of his pencil echoed through the room. He was completely absorbed.

At least one of us can stay focused.

I stayed draped on the chaise, nibbling absentmindedly on cheese and crackers. The buzz from the wine was finally beginning to go away, leaving behind a lingering warmth and a mind slightly clearer, but only slightly.

"Do you want to come take a look?" Lucas called, peeking out from behind the easel. "It’s still a rough sketch, but I think I’m ready to start painting now."

I perked up, straightening my back. "Yes! I’d love to!" I said, skipping over to his side.

My breath caught as soon as I saw the canvas. Even unfinished, the lines were unmistakably me. My posture, my expression, the curve of my neck, it was all there, captured with unmistakable care.

"It’s amazing!" I said. Then I tilted my head, recognizing a shift. "But it’s different from the image before. Wasn’t this originally the runway scene?"

Lucas nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "Yes, until I realized that painting you in this setting would be even more captivating. It’s a big more personal. Is that alright?"

My cheeks warmed, but I nodded. "Yes. It’s alright."

His gaze lingered on me for a second longer before he looked back at the sketch. "Thank you," he said softly. "I promise you’ll love it. I’m putting everything I have into it."

There was no doubt in my mind that he was putting everything he had into the painting. The way he looked at the canvas was like he was looking at something precious. And knowing that I was the subject of that soft devotion made my heart flutter in a way I hadn’t expected.

---

My head was still in the clouds when I finally arrived home. But the moment I stepped through the door, I felt the heavy atmosphere press down on me.

Inside the living room, my mother was sitting next to my father, her hand gently stroking his thigh. It was something she only did when my father was extremely stressed.

"Is there anything we could do? Maybe ask for some more time?" she asked in a gentle voice.

My father remained quiet, but lifted his hand to rub his eyes with frustration.

Morgan sat quietly on the opposite side with Anthony. Both of them had their eyes fixed on the ground, frozen in place.

What happened here?

Whatever it was prevented anyone from noticing me as I arrived.

"How much money are we short?" Morgan asked, giving me more insight into the situation.

"More than I’d like to admit," my father replied angrily. His entire face was red, and his hands were slightly trembling.

I walked over awkwardly and stood beside the couch where Anthony and Morgan were sitting. It was only then did my mother look over and notice me.

Meeting her glance, I nodded as I greeted her. "Mother, Father."

My father didn’t even bother looking over at me as he simply waved his hand as if he was dismissing me. My mother looked at me, frowning slightly as she looked over my outfit.

"Did you go to the office like that today?" she asked with a snappy tone. Her question caused Morgan to glance over at me.

I nodded, "Yes, Mother." As I replied, I pulled up the white jacket that covered my exposed shoulders, lifting it for her to see.

The anger in her eyes slowly dissipated, but she still opened her mouth to scold me. "Next time, wear something more appropriate. That dress isn’t meant to be worn to the office."

"You seriously wore that? Are you blind?" Morgan chimed in. Her voice was sharp and ruthless. I could feel her gaze on my neckline, looking at me with hatred.

I glanced down at my white dress. Although it wouldn’t be my first choice when it came to office attire, there were plenty of options that were worse. I simply wanted to be a little different today.

"I didn’t think it would be that bad. I wore a jacket, which follows the current trend, does it not?"

Morgan didn’t reply because she knew I was right. There was a new trend of wearing ankle-length dresses with blazer jackets.

Don’t worry. I wasn’t seducing your prized fiancé.

"So, what’s going on. Are we facing some sort of financial trouble?" I asked, finding it hard to believe we would ever run low on money.

"Yeah, it seems like there were some issues with the people we get our auction items from. They’re demanding that we pay for the goods even though they were damaged," Morgan said, filling me in.

I noticed how the frown on my father’s face deepened. I wasn’t really familiar with the whole process of how our auction business ran since my father made sure to never let me near it.

But as I looked at my father, Christian’s words suddenly rang in my head.

Human trafficking? Surely there’s no possible way.

I scoffed at myself for even entertaining the thought. If we were involved in human trafficking, I’m sure more serious issues than money problems would arise.

My father finally slammed his fist on the armrest of the couch.

"We need Christian to marry Morgan by the end of the month."