Chapter 6 What A Husband Should Do

Lila Cross frowned at the adorable toddler before her. Was the child really that hungry already? She didn't have time to ponder. Throwing on a coat, she went downstairs to prepare breakfast for Lucian. Busy at work, she rolled up her sleeves, revealing arms covered in fresh bruises and red marks. At the dining table, little Lucian stared at the marks on her arms, his brow slightly furrowed. When two identical breakfast plates were set down, the boy fixed his dark, glistening eyes on Lila. His eyes were deep black, his skin fair, his features delicate and refined. The seriousness in his gaze was so endearing that Lila felt her heart melt. She bent down, softening her voice. "What is it, Lucian?" The child raised his soft little hand and pointed at her arm. "You're hurt." Then, he jumped off the chair and fetched the medicine cabinet from the shelf. "No need." Lila took the cabinet from him. "I'll do it myself." Only then did Lucian return to his seat, eating quietly while watching her. Lila opened the medicine cabinet. Had Lucian not said anything, she wouldn't have noticed how many bruises still marked her body. As she applied ointment, she silently cursed the man from last night. After hastily rubbing the cream on her arms, she proudly held them out. "All better!" "What about your legs?" Lila: "…?" How did he know her legs were injured? Just then, her phone rang. Chloe Fortune's anxious voice came through. "Lila, now that you're married, aren't you supposed to come to the film studio?" "There are a lot of action scenes today. The supervisor said a female actress specifically asked for you…" Lila frowned. "I'll be right there." Back when Lila was dating Charles Jackson, she wanted to avoid suspicion while still seeing him every day. So, on Charles's suggestion, she became a stunt double at the film studio. Among stunt performers, martial arts stunt doubles earned the most, so Lila had chosen that path without hesitation. As the only female martial arts stunt double at the studio, Lila was in high demand. "Auntie's going to work now!" As the words left her lips, she was already at the entrance, searching for her shoes. "No." The little boy darted off his chair, stood in the doorway, arms spread wide like a little eagle. "You're hurt. You need rest." His voice was childish, yet carried authority and concern. A warmth stirred in Lila's heart. She crouched down and ruffled Lucian's hair. "These little injuries are nothing to me." She was a martial arts stunt double—such wounds were just routine. "No!" He gritted his teeth, bit his lip, and opened his small arms toward Lila. "Five minutes." "Wait five minutes before you go." "Fine." Five minutes was manageable. Lucian exhaled in relief, pulled out his phone, found Noah's contact, and sent a message. Upstairs, Noah, wearing the same pale yellow pajamas as Lucian, pushed open the study door. "Daddy, I need your help!" * Time passed. Lila smiled as she slipped on her shoes. "We said five minutes. It's already been four." "One more minute, and you can't stop Auntie from working." Lucian nodded seriously. "Mm-hmm." With thirty seconds left, Lila's phone rang. "Lila, you don't need to come in today." Chloe's voice was brimming with excitement. "The film studio is closed for the day!" Lila froze. "Closed?" "Yeah." Chloe said enviously, "Some big shot didn't want his wife working, so he shut down every production at the studio for a day." "Wow, the rich really do play by their own rules." Lila stood there, stunned, phone in hand. The studio had excellent revenue. Since she started, it had never closed. And now, it had shut down for a whole day just because of some wealthy man's wife? How incredibly… indulgent. Lila hung up, resigned. She could almost see her paycheck slipping away. A flicker of smugness passed through little Lucian's eyes. After a moment, the boy cleared his throat seriously and glanced at her coolly. "Eat." "Okay." With no work, Lila obediently returned to the table. But Lucian didn't sit back down. Hands in pockets, he coolly walked upstairs. "I've got something to do." With that, he turned and climbed the stairs. After a few steps, he turned back and gave a casual glance at the food in front of Lila. "Finish it." Lila chuckled. "You made me cook two portions, and you've only eaten one." Lucian paused slightly. After a moment, he said awkwardly, "I'll come down right away." With that, the boy stomped upstairs. Soon after, Noah came racing down, his hair ruffled from his brother's rough handling. "I'm here to eat my breakfast!" He rushed over, sat at the table, and began eating while praising, "So delicious!" Lila stared in disbelief. How had this child changed so completely after going upstairs? * Up in the study. The noble, aloof man was working at his desk. Lucian pushed the door open, climbed onto a chair, then onto the desk. Finally, he sat on the desk and slid his phone toward Adrian Quinn. On the screen: photos of the woman's arms, covered in bruises and red marks. The next showed her legs, also bruised. Lucian crossed his arms, wearing an expression as if demanding an explanation. "I need an explanation." Adrian stopped typing, his long-fingered hand picking up the phone. He set it down, leaned back, arms crossed, his voice cold and domineering. "You people made me marry her. A husband's marital duties—do they require explanation?" "She's under my protection." Lucian, with a miniature version of Adrian's face, stared back without fear, his voice childish yet full of authority. "You hurt someone I protect. Don't you owe me an explanation?" Father and son, same posture, same face—one in a chair, the other on the desk—locked in a silent battle of glares. "Sir—" Walter Briggs pushed the door open. "The acquisition contract for the film studio has been signed…" Before he could finish, two pairs of obsidian-black eyes turned toward him. Two voices, one large, one small, echoed: "Get out." "Get out." Walter: "…?" He timidly glanced at the tense father and son, then whispered, "What's it about this time?" "He hurt my person." Lucian pouted and huffed coldly. Walter was stunned for a long moment before realizing—perhaps Lucian meant… Mrs. Quinn? "Master Lucian, you've misunderstood." Walter couldn't help but laugh. "Mrs. Quinn's injuries weren't caused by the Master."