Page 6 of Obsessing Over His Favorite
The room was large and lavish, decorated in warm browns and creamy beige tones. Everything was soft, muted—beige walls, chocolate accents.
She frowned. “What happened to my taste?” she muttered, staring around with distaste. She liked color. Lots of color and light. Maybe even some plants. But this house? It was just silence and pale walls.
That man—what was his name?
“Lucas…,” she whispered to herself. “He’s my boyfriend?’
She walked over to the dressing table, sitting down with a weary sigh. The surface was crowded with expensive creams and makeup. She picked up a dark red lipstick, untouched, and swiped it slowly across her lips. Her face brightened slightly as she stared into the mirror, trying hard to remember.
“He’s my boyfriend. But it doesn’t seem like he likes me.” She murmured, “Even when I was nearly dying on that table, he clearly said,‘Tell me after she’s dead.’ He was so indifferent.”
She set the lipstick down, pressing a finger to her lips, a small frown creasing her brow. ‘So, he hates me?’
“Mr. Cantrell, you’re back.”
A woman’s voice echoed through the house, breaking the heavy silence.
“Yes, let me handle this. I’ll bring you some water.”
“There are maids here?” she murmured, standing up and walking out of the bedroom to head downstairs.
As she descended, the man in the suit turned toward her. The man from the photos. Lucas Cantrell.
His dark eyes burned even brighter than in the pictures, as if he could see straight through her. His gaze traveled slowly from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, then back up to her face.
When she stopped at the base of the stairs, he crossed the room and approached her.
‘So this is my boyfriend,’ Emily thought, staring at the man.
He was striking—sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and intense dark eyes that seemed to see everything. His dark hair was neatly styled, and a light stubble added to his rugged charm.
His tailored suit fit perfectly, emphasizing broad shoulders and a lean frame. He stood confidently, hands in pockets, his expression cold.
She’d never been into average guys, so it made sense.
His mouth was set in a displeased line.
“How long do you plan to keep causing problems for me?” His voice was firm, edged with warning.
Emily frowned, confusion flickering across her face. “I caused problems?”
Lucas’s eyes darkened further, burning holes through her.
“Are you pretending you don’t remember what you did? First, you slapped Amelia at that important business party two days ago.” He took a step closer, forcing her to step back, inch by inch, until her legs hit the bottom of the stairs, leaving no space.
“And then, just because I scolded you and went to drop off Amelia first, you jumped in front of someone’s car—trying to get her in trouble, and get my attention.”
Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled her flush against his chest. His hand pressed firmly on her hip, holding her in place.
He looked down at her, a frown darkening his features. “How long will you keep stirring trouble for me and bothering Amelia, Emily?”
Her confusion didn’t fade. None of it made sense.
She’d always been straightforward and honest. Even if things got difficult, she’d rather run away than create conflict. How could she have caused problems for anyone?
‘He’s already so annoyed with me,’ she thought, face tightening with worry. ‘He says he’s been my boyfriend for five years… but Idon’t remember any of it. What if he finds out I lost my memory? What if he just kicks me out? I don’t even remember where my parents are... or what’s happened in these last five years.’
The man stared at her coldly. Though his face didn’t show anger, frustration simmered deep in his eyes, like a storm barely held in check. It was as if he had long lost control over his temper.
