She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 268

Luther gently ruffled her hair.

"You did great."

Immediately after, he looked down and noticed the furious red welt on Joyce's cheek.

The mark left by Diana's slap.

Joyce felt deeply humiliated, knowing that this entire public degradation had been brought upon her by the man standing in front of her. She covered her cheek, refusing to let him see, and tried to walk away. But the man snared her delicate wrist, forcefully yet gently hauling her right against his side. Right there, under the scorching gaze of hundreds of onlookers and their hushed gasps, he firmly and unapologetically claimed her.

Joyce tried to wrench free.

But it was completely useless.

Luther held her clamped tightly against his side.

He then looked at Annie and ordered, "Get in the car and go home first. Eat dinner with your brother—he's been quite a picky eater lately. I'm taking Ms. Croix to the doctor to get her face checked."

Annie nodded obediently.

She was extremely satisfied with her dad this time—he showed up fast and took a hardline stance.

The street was packed shoulder to shoulder.

Surrounded by hundreds of people.

Yet, somehow, it was dead silent.

Luther dragged Joyce to his car, and just as he stuffed her into the passenger seat, Diana finally snapped out of her stupor. Stumbling forward in a desperate bid to salvage the situation, she burst into tears, begging, "Luther, please, just think about it! In every possible aspect, I am infinitely more suited for you—more suited to be Mrs. Sanford! She has absolutely nothing! She's just some pathetic elementary school teacher!"

Luther slammed the passenger door shut.

He looked at the woman with chilling apathy—

"The title of Mrs. Sanford was never about matching social status."

"And even if it was, your family's pedigree doesn't even come close."

"I want her to be Mrs. Sanford simply because I want her."

His brutal takedown shattered whatever was left of Diana's dignity.

Tears streamed down her face in utter disbelief that Luther seriously intended to marry Joyce.

A woman who only had her looks.

—Besides that face, what the hell did she even have?!

Luther ignored her entirely, completely disregarding the mob of onlookers.

He slid into the driver's seat, buckled his seatbelt, and cast a sideways glance at the woman beside him. Joyce showed no signs of putting up a fight.

He slammed on the gas.

It wasn't until they were a significant distance away that he asked in a startlingly soft voice, "Does it still hurt?"

When Joyce answered, her tone was terrifyingly calm.

She wasn't even noticeably angry.

She gathered her thoughts and laid it all out: "Mr. Sanford, the only reason I got in your car was to make things perfectly clear. I have zero interest in getting tangled up in your drama with Ms. Dayne or any other woman. I absolutely refuse to be branded as some homewrecker, and naturally, I will never become your Mrs. Sanford. I don't harbor those kinds of lofty ambitions; all I want is three square meals a day, peace, and a quiet life... Mr. Sanford, I will not be returning as a private tutor! As for Damien, I am begging you to show some mercy and leave us alone. I'm begging you. We don't have any bad blood between us, right? Besides, it's not like you haven't already taken full advantage of me."

Last night, in the guest suite of his home.

He had touched every inch of her body.

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