Entering his office, Lucas's dark mood unsettled his employees. They trembled, praying to keep their jobs safe from their newly married president's anger. They wondered what could have happened to make him so irritable when he was usually composed.
Lucas sat at his desk, his head in his hands, when he heard someone enter without knocking. He knew it was Ethan, his best friend and trusted secretary, as no one else would dare to intrude like that.
Looking up, Lucas offered a bitter smile.
"Lucas, why did you come if you're not feeling well?" Ethan asked with a concerned smile, taking a seat in front of Lucas.
"I didn't want to stay there and watch him cry all day," Lucas admitted, pouting. In front of his friend, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, grateful for Ethan's unwavering support through difficult times.
"Shouldn't you take responsibility? It must be you who made him cry, right?" Ethan remarked with a hint of smugness.
"Responsibility my foot," Lucas retorted angrily.
"Hehe… Lucas, have you seen your face?" Ethan chuckled, unable to suppress his amusement.
"What's so funny?" Lucas snapped, exasperated by his friend's antics.
"It's just that you're showing so many emotions at once—anger, frustration, even a bit of silliness. Are you being affected by your husband?" Ethan teased with a smirk.
"Fuck off with your stinky mouth," Lucas growled, his irritation clear.
"Truth hurts, brother. Now that you want me to fuck off, what will you do without me in the meeting?" Ethan asked with a knowing smile.
"Ugh, you shithead. Just stay then," Lucas grumbled, conceding.
"I forgot why I came. Here, check these files," Ethan said, handing over a stack of documents.
"Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to review all this in an hour?" Lucas asked in disbelief, noting that the next meeting was imminent.
"You're late, man, and you need to check all of this. It's your loss if you don't," Ethan said with a smirk, knowing how much Lucas hated losing.
"Ugh. Leave me alone," Lucas muttered, opening the documents. Ethan smiled as he watched Lucas get to work.
...
It was 8 p.m. when Lucas and Ethan were discussing a project, and Lucas's phone began to ring, drawing their attention.
"..." Lucas's face twisted with disgust as he looked at the caller ID.
"Who's that?" Ethan asked, noticing Lucas's dark expression.
"Mrs. Smith," Lucas said with a heavy sigh. He felt his blood boil at the thought of her but answered the call, knowing she would come over if he ignored her. The last thing he wanted was to see her face.
"Mrs. Smith," Lucas said through gritted teeth, trying to control his rage.
"Where are you now?" Mrs. Smith asked sweetly on the phone, her voice grating on Lucas's nerves.
"At the office," Lucas replied curtly.
"Then my baby is alone at home, isn't he?" Mrs. Smith's voice was gentle but condescending.
"Yes," Lucas confirmed tersely.
"Lucas, how dare you leave my baby boy at home alone? You didn't even let us know where you are living. What if something happens to him?" Mrs. Smith shouted furiously.
"My home is more secure than your Smith estate. Who do you think you are to shout at me? It's not my problem if your lovesick son didn't pick up your phone. And as for my address, you don't deserve to know. So, stay in your lane," Lucas said coldly, recalling all the pain she had caused him, including the accident that took his parents' lives.
"How insolent of you, Lucas. Didn't your parents teach you manners?" Mrs. Smith snapped.
"It's sad that because of someone as cold-blooded as you and your son, my parents got into that accident. So, I don't think you deserve my respect," Lucas replied darkly, his last bit of patience gone.
"Mind your language, Lucas," Mrs. Smith said furiously.
"I don't want to talk to someone like you," Lucas said, preparing to end the call. But Mrs. Smith's voice cut through again.
"Hey, you. I want to see my son. Give me your address!" Mrs. Smith demanded.
"You don't deserve to set foot in my home. If you want to see your son so badly, I'll be glad to send him to you forever. I hate the sight of him," Lucas said with a sneer, hitting a nerve.
"Lucas, you—"
Lucas hung up, his frustration boiling over. He despised Mrs. Smith for blackmailing his parents, forcing them to arrange his marriage to Alan, which led to the accident that took their lives. She had made his life a living hell from childhood, scaring away his friends and manipulating their family.
"Lucas, calm down," Ethan said, handing him a glass of water.
"I think my life is going to be hell from now on, Ethan. What should I do? Everything feels wrong," Lucas said, frustration evident in his voice. It was only the second day of their marriage, and he already felt trapped and suffocated.
"You can't do anything, Lucas. You know you can't even divorce Alan," Ethan said with a bitter smile. He understood his best friend's predicament—marriage to Alan was a condition for saving his family business, promised in exchange for shares held by Mr. Smith. Ethan empathized with Lucas's dejection and hurt.
"It's late. You should go home. I'll handle the rest of the files," Ethan said, offering a reassuring smile.
"Good night," Lucas said as he prepared to leave.
...
When Lucas arrived home, the lights were off. He turned them on and headed to his room, placing his bag on the sofa. He changed into his hoodie and sweatpants before heading to the kitchen, but he paused at Alan's room.
Remembering Mrs. Smith's words, he hesitated before slowly pushing the door open. The darkness inside made his heart race; he knew Alan suffered from nyctophobia—an intense fear of darkness. There must be something wrong. With a trembling heart, Lucas switched on the lights and found Alan unconscious on the floor. His breath caught in his throat as he saw how pale Alan looked.
Rushing to Alan, Lucas carefully lifted him from the floor and cradled him in his lap. His arms trembled as he tried to find his voice.
"Alan… Alan…" His voice cracked, filled with desperation. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Alan, not like he had lost his parents.