The temperature of the coffee was different, and so was the fragrance. It was a cup of coffee vastly different from the one he preferred.
This is definitely not Ashlyn’s work.
That’s not how her coffee tastes like.
The breakfast doesn’t taste like anything she usually makes.
The realization made a cold look crawl into the man’s eyes, and the look would have frozen the cup of coffee if it could.
“Lucas, I made sausages too. Do you want to try it?”
Enduring the soreness of her body, Hera smiled as she carried a tray toward the dining table.
She had not noticed the changes in her surroundings nor the tension in the atmosphere.
“Who gave you the permission to enter my house? And even the kitchen to cook?” In Lucas’ cold tone was intense displeasure.
His gloomy expression made Hera’s smile freeze. He’s not happy? When she received Lucas’ message early in the morning, she hurriedly dragged her sore body over to make breakfast for him, but he seemed unhappy about it.
“Lucas, weren’t you the one who sent your men to give me a message, telling me to come over and make breakfast for you? You’ve even given me your house address...” Hera found herself barely able to breathe as he questioned her.
“Hera, who do you think you are? I never sent anyone to send you a message nor ask you to come to my house. Don’t do insignificant things.” Lucas coldly uttered. How free and scheming is she?
Did she think that my impression of her will change just because she made me breakfast?
“How can you say this? Lucas, my love for you is sincere!” She had been busy since morning. Not only did she not get anything in return, but he also even rejected her ruthlessly. Tears escaped from her eyes as she looked at Lucas with a deep frown on her face.
She then took out a letter from her purse and mumbled, “You can look at it if you don’t believe in my words.”
“Since you’ve planned to put on a show, I’m sure you came prepared.” Lucas chuckled in a low voice, “Your tears worth nothing to me. Don’t assume that I’d feel bad for you because you’re crying.”
Hera was close to exploding in rage.
She stood in front of the table, upset. Her hands were still gripping tight onto the letter.
If it wasn’t Lucas who sent me this, who did?
Is that person trying to make Lucas hate me?
“Louis, there’ll only be one Mrs. Nolan in this house, and only one woman can be here. I don’t want this to happen again.” Lucas uttered, glancing at Louis.
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