Chapter 2 Mr. Quinn Is My Husband

The study was brightly lit. The man seated at the head of the room wore a pristine white shirt, its cuffs revealing a bold, masculine steel watch. He was reading a document, his features sharp and his profile elegant. After finishing a page, he spoke coolly, "Reclaim the funds we extended to Crosswell Group tomorrow." Walter Briggs bowed his head respectfully. "Yes, sir." Then he hesitated slightly. "Mr. Quinn, if I may speak out of turn, I think this Miss Cross is… different from the previous two." Earlier that day, it was Walter who had brought Lila Cross into the estate. She had a clean, fair complexion and clear eyes—innocent-looking, the kind of girl people naturally liked. From the Cross residence to the Quinn Estate, she had barely spoken. The only questions she asked were about Mr. Quinn's likes and dislikes. She seemed entirely unaffected by the rumors. Ever since that Mr. Quinn' two sons had spread the story that Mr. Quinn was hideously scarred and violently tempered, a woman who wasn't afraid of him—and who genuinely wanted to care for him—was nearly impossible to find. To let her go like this felt like a waste. But the man at the head of the table remained indifferent. "If she can't pass such a simple test, she's not worth keeping." Walter: "…" Sir, is that really a simple test? Mr. Noah's monster costume was terrifying enough to make even a fifty-year-old man like him jump every time—how could a gentle, twenty-something girl be expected to handle it? Walter sighed. At this rate, when would the master ever find someone to end his loneliness? Troubling. Just then, the doorbell rang downstairs. Lila Cross trembled as she pressed the doorbell. She had run far away earlier. Already afraid of the dark, she had seen the monster the moment the lights came on—her heart had filled with terror! But once the fear faded, she realized she shouldn't have fled. From the beginning, she had known Adrian Quinn was a disfigured, emotionally broken man. Since she had agreed to the marriage, she should honor her word. She shouldn't run away at the last moment. So after a long internal struggle, she had finally returned. Now, standing pale-faced before the door, her heart pounded wildly as she pressed the bell. She didn't want to face that face, that man again. But she knew she had to overcome it—because from now on, she would live with him for the rest of her life. After a moment, the door opened. To her surprise, it wasn't Mr. Quinn, nor Walter or a servant, but a strikingly handsome, cold little boy who looked only four or five years old. If not for the fact that this was the only villa in the area, Lila would have thought she'd come to the wrong place. The boy glanced at her, then turned and walked into the living room, pointing to the sofa to indicate she should sit. Lila pressed her lips together. She didn't know where this boy came from, but she sensed he meant no harm. Shivering, she sat down on the sofa. The boy poured her a cup of hot water. "Thank you." She held the cup, her nerves slowly calming. The boy looked at her, then walked to a small cabinet nearby and began rummaging through it. "Whoa." Upstairs at the railing, the mischievous little one who had frightened Lila earlier widened his eyes, staring at the scene below. "She actually came back?" "Dad, should I scare her again?" A tall, imposing man stood in the shadows. He glanced at the shivering woman downstairs, then at his son rummaging for the first-aid kit. His brow furrowed slightly. "No." Outsiders only knew that Mr. Quinn had been disfigured in the fire five years ago, turning cold and ruthless. Few knew that after that fire, he had fathered twin sons. Lucian, the elder, was usually cold and silent; Noah, the younger, mischievous and unpredictable. Yet now, Lucian—who normally treated strangers with indifference—was pouring water and fetching medicine for a woman he'd just met. "Ah—!" When the cold, stinging antiseptic touched the wound on her calf, Lila realized she had scraped her leg while fleeing in panic. She looked down. The little boy was carefully disinfecting the cut with one hand, holding the cotton swab, while the other held the antiseptic bottle. The ornate chandelier cast a large beam of light, highlighting his long, curled lashes and casting a small shadow beneath his eyes. Such a young child, yet so thoughtful. Lila's heart warmed, and her voice softened. "What's your name, sweetie?" "How did you get here?" After finishing the disinfection, the boy placed a bandage over the wound. "Lucian." Only after he'd finished did he look up at her. "That's my name." Lila looked at his adorable face and small hands, instinctively reaching out to touch him—but the boy dodged with surprising agility. He walked over, climbed onto the sofa opposite her, and sat down. His clear eyes held a maturity beyond his years as he studied her. "Why did you come back?" Why did she come back? Lila smiled. "Because this is going to be my home." "Adrian Quinn is going to be my husband. Of course I came back." Lucian lowered his gaze, fiddling with his slender fingers. "Aren't you afraid?" Lila paused. How did this child know so much? Still, she answered honestly. "Yes, I am afraid. But I have no choice." "I agreed to marry him. I can't back out now." She wasn't the kind to run from her responsibilities. And if she ruined this, her father Jonathan wouldn't get that investment—her life afterward would be unbearable. "No matter how ugly or terrifying he is… I'll try my best to overcome it and be a good wife to him." She didn't know why she was telling all this to a child she'd just met—he probably didn't even understand half of it. But in this strange place, the little one was the only one she could confide in. "He's not ugly." Lucian lifted his gaze, his eyes serious as he looked at Lila. "You can trust me." Lila: "…" That wasn't ugly? She had seen him with her own eyes! Still, given that this was just a child, maybe Mr. Quinn didn't show his true face in front of him. She took a deep breath and smiled. "Are you hungry? I'll make you something delicious." Lila had no special talents—except that she cooked exceptionally well. Faced with this handsome, kind-hearted little one, the only way she could think to thank him and build a connection was through food. Lucian glanced at the clock, then spoke coolly. "You have half an hour." Lila blinked. "After eight, I don't eat. It's seven twenty now." Lila dashed into the kitchen like a shot. The kitchen was clean and tidy. Though the ingredients were limited, all the essential seasonings were available. Watching her busy figure in the kitchen, the two figures upstairs exchanged a quiet glance. "Dad, what do you think she's up to?" Noah leaned over the railing, pouting. "Trying to win my brother over with food? Dream on." "My brother's pickiness is legendary." Adrian Quinn watched Lila, his gaze deepening. There was something oddly familiar about this woman.