"What the heck was that?" Mark asked angrily the moment Lucille left the room.
"When did she become like this?" he added, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
Edward didn't answer. He just let out a long breath.
"She used to be quiet and easy to control," Mark muttered, still shocked. "is this a dream?"
He couldn't believe what just happened. That was the same Lucille who used to be their puppet back in university. The same girl who used to hide just to avoid being laughed at.
If she were an elite, maybe her boldness would make sense. But she wasn't. She was just a commoner. An omega!
Mark had never heard of an omega talking back to an elite before. And Lucille didn't just talk back, she stood up to three elites all at once.
Mabel was burning with anger. She couldn't accept the insults thrown at her. She wasn't going to let it go.
"You just stood there and let her insult us! And you did nothing!" Mabel shouted at Edward, whose face was filled with rage.
"When did you become so weak?" she yelled.
She had expected Edward to shut Lucille up, to punish her in front of them, maybe make her kneel or crawl in shame. But he did nothing.
Edward shot her a sharp, warning look. "Watch your mouth," he snapped, then got up from the sofa and stormed out, full of rage.
"What?" Mabel whispered in shock. She looked at Mark, and he shook his head in disbelief.
In his bedroom, Edward was boiling with anger. He had called Lucille to embarrass her, but instead, she had turned the tables and hurled loads of insults on them.
"Mitch! This is your fault!" he growled.
If his stupid cousin had agreed to the first punishment, he wouldn't be stuck living with someone so annoying. Someone who was stubborn, disobedient, and worst of all, way too confident.
"Mitch!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the wall.
He had called her filth, and she twisted it, throwing the same word back at him. His anger burned even hotter. But when he thought about what she said… she kind of had a point. If she was really filth and he was clean, she shouldn't be touching anything he touched.
Yes. She was right. He was the one covered in filth, because she had touched so many things that he used all the time.
"She didn't mean it the way I did. That's not what I meant. I'm not filth," he muttered, trying to convince himself.
But the more he tried to push her words away, the angrier he got.
"You're my servant!" he growled, pacing back and forth.
Just then, the door opened and Mabel walked in.
"If you try to forget this like it's nothing, I won't," she said sharply, walking straight up to Edward.
He turned around slowly, and his already angry face looked even worse. His fierce eyes locked on Mabel, like he wanted to tear her apart, but she didn't care at all.
He wasn't the only one full of rage. She was also burning with anger because of the way that foolish girl insulted her.
"There were so many ways you could've made her pay, even forced her to say sorry. But you just let her walk away," her voice had softened. She wrapped her arms around his wide back.
He scoffed. Lucille? Apologize? That was a joke. The Lucille living in his house now was stubborn and strong-willed, completely different from the quiet girl he once believed was mated to him.
He started to wonder if the two versions of her were really the same person.
"Letting her go doesn't mean I'm weak," he said sharply.
"For every action, there's a reaction. And she will pay for this," he added, his voice hard and full of promise.
He had to break Lucille. He had to make her suffer. He didn't care if he became filth in the process. All that mattered was seeing her cry, beg, and wish for freedom.
Mabel turned to face him. She leaned in closer and gently bit his lip softly.
"Yeah. She'll pay," Mabel whispered, then leaned in and kissed him softly.
But he didn't move. He didn't kiss her back.
Slowly, she pulled away, her eyes searching his face, hoping to see some feeling in him.
"She's not worth your anger," she said, gently brushing her thumb across his lips. But he quietly took her hand and moved it away. Then he walked over to the bed and sat down.
Mabel lowered her eyes, feeling confused. Something didn't feel right. She looked up again, watching him closely.
His face was twisted with emotions she couldn't understand. Quickly, she walked over and sat beside him. She took his hand and laced their fingers together.
"She…"
"Enough!" he snapped, cutting her off. "Don't talk about her again. My mood has nothing to do with her."
"Then what's wrong?" she asked, leaning in to kiss him again. But he turned his face, and her lips only brushed his cheek.
"I'll join you in the sitting room soon," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.
Was he asking her to leave? She stared at him, shocked.
"Now you're making me think this distance you've been showing me for months, is intentional."
Edward sighed, clearly annoyed. He got up from the bed and started walking toward the door, but Mabel quickly grabbed his hand, stopping him.
"What did I do wrong?" she asked softly, her voice full of hurt. "Since that night at the class party, it feels like you've been pulling away. The love we shared, the closeness. It's like it's gone."
They had been dating since university, and Mabel had no idea back then that Edward was fated to Lucille. But when Lucille broke the bond that night, Mabel had felt like the luckiest girl alive. Edward, the only heir to the third most powerful family in the country, would finally be hers.
But from that night on, everything changed.
Edward had walked out of the party and ever since, he'd kept his distance. No kisses. No warmth. No affection.
She had told herself it was just the stress, from the broken bond, the court issues, everything. But tonight, after he rejected her touch again, right here in his room, she couldn't ignore it anymore. This wasn't exhaustion. This was a choice.
She slowly wrapped her arms around him again and rested her head against his chest, listening to his rough, uneven heartbeat.
He looked down at her, his eyes deep and unreadable as memories from the past filled his mind. She had once satisfied him with her body, but now, the desire he used to feel for her was gone.
For four years, he had cheated on Lucille with Mabel. Lucille never caught him, but deep down, he was sure she had known. Still, she had stayed faithful.
Thinking back, a smug smile formed on his lips. No matter how bold Lucille tried to act now, he had already won. He was the one who cheated on her, who enjoyed pleasure with someone else while she stayed loyal, and yet she was the one the law punished. She was the one who was suffering.
The thought gave him a sense of satisfaction. Slowly, the victorious smile on his face turned sly, as a thought crept into his mind.
Then, without hesitation, he mind-linked Mark, who was still in the sitting room, lost in thought.
"Please, send a servant to Lucille. I want my bedroom cleaned. Right now."