Chapter 175
The other stood half a step behind her, wearing a light gray maid's uniform, head bowed, shoulders slightly hunched, as if afraid of something.
The new maid who'd bumped into her.
Lucinda withdrew her gaze, her lips curving slightly.
She didn't stand up. She remained crouched beside the dog, her fingers gently scratching under its chin.
The dog was thoroughly enjoying it. It rolled over, exposing its belly, all four paws in the air, tail sweeping back and forth across the ground.
"You sure know how to enjoy yourself."
Lucinda's voice was soft, carrying a hint of amusement, but her eyes never left the two figures in the shadows.
"Good boy. I'll play with you."
With that, she scooped up a handful of damp soil from the ground and slowly walked toward Dahlia.
Seeing her approach, Dahlia suddenly felt a sense of foreboding. "What are you doing?"
Lucinda didn't answer. She raised her hand and flung the dirt.
Mud splattered all over Dahlia instantly. Her expensive white dress was filthy in seconds.
Dahlia let out a shrill scream. "Lucinda! Are you insane?"
The moment her words fell, urgent footsteps sounded from behind.
The dog that had just been lying on the ground suddenly sprang up and charged at Dahlia.
Dahlia's face went deathly pale. She turned and ran.
"Help!"
Her high heels clattered unsteadily on the stone path.
But there was no way she could outrun a dog. Within seconds, the massive hound pounced on her.
Dahlia tumbled straight into the lawn, completely disheveled.
"No! Get away! Diesel! Stop! Stop it!"
She screamed in terror.
This dog—she'd bought it at a high price and had it specially trained. It usually listened to her perfectly.
But now, the dog completely ignored her, pinning her to the grass. She was so frightened that tears and snot streamed down her face, and she even wet herself.
The servants nearby all turned their faces away, their expressions painfully awkward.
Dahlia was losing her mind, still shouting nonstop. "Diesel! I'm your owner! Get off me!"
But no matter how much she yelled, it had no effect.
Just as she was about to break down completely, Lucinda finally spoke flatly.
"Diesel, come back."
As her words fell, the previously imposing dog immediately released its paws, wagged its tail, and trotted back to Lucinda's side. It even nuzzled her leg affectionately, obedient beyond belief.
Dahlia scrambled up from the ground, trembling with rage as she watched the scene. "How do you know its name?"
Lucinda lowered her gaze at her, her eyes looking at her like she was an idiot.
Obviously, she'd just heard Dahlia shout it. But she didn't feel like explaining.
"None of your business."
Dahlia choked, her face turning ashen.
Lucinda didn't bother looking at her anymore. Her gaze shifted from Dahlia to the maid cowering in the shadows.
"You. Come here."
The maid's shoulders jerked violently. She shuffled forward, head bowed, step by step.
By the time she reached Lucinda, her legs were already trembling.
"You're fired. Leave. Now."
The maid looked up, her face deathly pale. "I... I didn't mean to..."
"Shut up." Lucinda's voice was low, but the maid fell silent as if her throat had been seized. She didn't dare say another word.
Dahlia stood to the side, tears still streaking her face, but the unwillingness in her eyes had already overtaken her fear.
She gritted her teeth, her voice squeezing through clenched teeth. "You don't have the authority to fire her. You don't get to make decisions in this house."
Lucinda turned her head and glanced at her.
Just one glance, and Dahlia's lips trembled. She swallowed all her words.
Lucinda withdrew her gaze and looked toward the main building.
"Butler."
As her words fell, the butler quickly jogged out from the entrance hall.
He wore a crisp black uniform, his hair combed meticulously, his steps quick and steady. He stopped in front of Lucinda and bowed slightly. "Miss, what are your orders?"
"Watch her pack her things and escort her out. She is never to appear at the Douglas Estate again."
The butler glanced at the maid. Without any hesitation, he nodded. "Understood."
The maid's face turned from white to gray. Her lips trembled, and she tried to say something, but when she met the butler's emotionless eyes, all her words stuck in her throat.
She lowered her head and followed the butler toward the servants' quarters, her steps unsteady, her figure pitiful.
Dahlia stood in place, her fingers clutching her skirt, nails digging into her palms.
She looked at Lucinda, then at the butler standing nearby. The unwillingness in her chest burned painfully.
After the butler escorted the maid out and returned, he walked up to Dahlia. "You should go change your clothes first. Standing in the yard like this isn't a good look."
One sentence, and Dahlia's face flushed bright red.
Thinking of the humiliation she'd just endured in front of everyone, and seeing the servants around her barely suppressing their laughter, she trembled with rage but couldn't say a single word.
Lucinda didn't spare her another glance. She lifted her foot and walked toward the villa entrance. Her phone suddenly vibrated.
The screen read: Reginald.
Lucinda paused briefly, lowered her gaze for two seconds, then pressed answer.
She leaned against the doorframe, her voice lazy. "Hello?"
The other end went quiet for a moment, then a man's low voice came through. "Where are you?"
"Just got home. About to have dinner."
"Have you eaten?"
"Not yet."
The other end went quiet again for a second, as if weighing something.
"I couldn't pick you up tonight." Reginald's voice carried a trace of regret. "There was a meeting this afternoon. It dragged on too long. By the time I finished, I'd already missed the window."
He said it lightly, as if mentioning it in passing.
But Lucinda caught it. He actually cared.
Reginald was the type who never wore his emotions on his sleeve, but she was seeing those subtle details more and more clearly now.
"It's fine." Her voice was flat. "I'm not a three-year-old. I can get home on my own."
A very soft laugh came from the other end, as if he'd just let out a breath of relief.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow."
"You're busy."
"I'm not."
He said it with certainty, as if declaring something non-negotiable.
Lucinda didn't respond, but her lips curved slightly. "Go eat."
He spoke again, his voice softer than before. "Don't go hungry."
"I know."
"Hang up."
"You first."
"You first."
Lucinda was silent for a second, then said, "Fine. I'm hanging up."
She didn't hang up immediately. She waited two seconds. The sound of his breathing was still there, as if waiting for something.
She waited another second, then pressed the end button.
The screen went dark. She slipped her phone back into her pocket, pushed open the door, and walked in.
At the same time, in the villa living room, Valencia was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine.
Hearing a sound at the entrance, she instinctively looked up.
The next second, she froze completely. "Dahlia?"
Dahlia stood in the doorway, her hair disheveled, her eyes red and swollen, her dress in an utterly pitiful state.
Large sections of fabric had been torn away. The hem hung in tatters. Her exposed arms and legs bore numerous scratches. She looked like a complete disaster.