Chapter 3

After listening to my entire explanation, Lucas fell completely silent.

I assumed he was utterly shell-shocked—shocked enough to finally pack my bags and throw me out.

"Look, it's fine. We can still be friends," I offered reasonably. "Since I transmigrated into this body, I can actually help you. Who knows, the real Scarlett might even pop back in one day. How about... you let me stay for a few days to see what happens?"

Lucas eyed me sideways, his face completely devoid of amusement.

"Help me with what?"

I thought about it for a second.

"Well, I haven't studied psychology professionally, but I'm an INTP. I love analyzing complex systems. I kind of want to treat you as a case study to investigate your... obsessive yandere tendencies."

Seeing his deadpan expression, I let out a nervous chuckle.

Whatever happens, just don't kick me out before I get sent back to the real world.

Let me milk this luxury retreat for as long as I can.

"Fine. You can stay," Lucas said coldly, turning on his heel to leave. "But we are not friends."

I was so preoccupied with dissecting what he meant by "not friends" that I completely missed the faint, subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

What did he mean by that? If we're not friends, what are we?

Whatever. Time for a nap.

I pulled the duvet over my head, fully intending to catch up on my beauty sleep, when a shrill ringtone shattered the silence.

I groggily picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Scarlett?! Why do you have Lucas's phone?!"

Here we go! The dramatic entrance of the spiteful side character!

Back when I read the novel, my brain had already mapped this out: Lucas's toxic attachment style wasn't entirely inborn. It was forged in the fires of a horrific family dynamic and toxic enablers.

And Chloe, his intrusive childhood family friend currently screeching in my ear, was a major contributor.

I bolted upright like a gymnast sticking a landing, buzzing with excitement.

"You're Chloe, right? It's really you?"

"Scarlett, have you completely lost your mind?! Who else would it be?! Why are you holding Lucas's phone? Hand it over to him right now!"

I didn't care about her barking. I cut right to the chase.

"Aren't you supposed to be having dinner with Lucas's parents today?!"

The other end went dead silent for a moment before she spat out a low "Freak" and hung up.

Silence equals confirmation.

I was practically vibrating with adrenaline. The first major canon event was finally here!

I sprinted barefoot toward the door, only to be scooped clean off the floor by a pair of strong arms.

"Where are your shoes?"

Ignoring the classic alpha-billionaire line, I gripped his biceps, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

"You're having dinner with your parents, right? Take me with you."

I saw Lucas's eyelashes flutter slightly, but he didn't refuse.

He simply couldn't bring himself to say no to me.

Fine, then. If that's the case, I'm going to pull him out of this abyss.

Lucas drove us to a private members' club so outrageously exclusive that I had only ever read about such places in romance tropes.

Dripping in old money and modern luxury, the venue left me staring in awe.

Wiping away my imaginary drool, I hurried after his long strides, silently hyping myself up.

What's there to be scared of? I'm a transmigrator! Money talks, but it can't boss around a girl from another dimension.

Still, I was just an ordinary working-class girl. Unlike Lucas and his circle, who were born fifty steps ahead on the social ladder, being dropped into this environment naturally triggered a lingering intimidation.

That awkward tension only vanished the second we met his parents.

Lucas, who carried himself like an untouchable, brooding force at home, instantly clamped down, lowering his eyes and keeping entirely silent in front of his mother and father.

The moment the private dining room door opened, Chloe rushed forward with an overly familiar, sugary smile.

"Lucas! You're finally here! Mom and Dad have been waiting—wait. Scarlett?! Who said you could come?!"