Chapter 211
The next morning, Lucinda came downstairs carrying a large bag.
The bag was bulging, stuffed to the brim. Valencia sat at the dining table sipping tea. When she spotted her daughter, her gaze fell on the bag. "Cindy, what's that?"
"Just dropping something off for someone." She set the bag on the entryway cabinet and bent down to change her shoes.
Valencia smiled but didn't press further.
By the time Lucinda reached the door, the black Maybach was already waiting in its usual spot.
Reginald saw her approaching with that oversized bag and quickly stepped forward to take it from her. He glanced down at the opening—several neatly folded garments visible inside. "What's this?"
"For you."
Reginald pulled open the bag and drew out a light gray dress shirt.
The fabric was soft, the stitching impeccable. At the cuff, a tiny silver monogram—his initials.
He pulled out a navy blazer next, then a white cashmere sweater. Each piece folded perfectly. Each cuff embroidered with the same delicate detail.
He counted seven items total. "When did you make these?"
"Evenings. When I had time." Lucinda's tone was casual. Then she fished a small glass vial from her pocket—dozens of light brown tablets inside. "Take one when you're stressed. Good for your heart. Stop living on coffee."
Reginald stared down at the gray shirt in his hand, then at the vial she'd just given him. His fingers tightened.
The next second, his eyes actually reddened.
Before he could say anything, he pulled her into his arms. "...How am I supposed to handle you being this good to me?"
"Handle what?" Her voice came muffled against his chest, tinged with helpless laughter. "Just accept it."
He held her for a long time. Long enough that Lucinda had to pat his back stiffly before he reluctantly let go.
He looked down into her eyes, his mouth curving upward. "Come on. I'm taking you somewhere."
Before Lucinda could respond, he was already pulling her toward the car.
She glanced at the large bag—now carefully stowed—then at his light, almost buoyant stride. Smiling, she followed him into the vehicle.
The car pulled away from the Douglas Estate slowly. Reginald sat beside Lucinda, unable to suppress the smile tugging at his lips.
At a red light, he suddenly grabbed his phone and snapped several photos of the shirt he was wearing. He adjusted angles, clearly hunting for the perfect shot.
Lucinda glanced over, one brow arching. "What are you doing?"
Reginald answered with complete seriousness. "Documenting."
Then he tapped his screen a few times.
Instagram post sent.
Lucinda caught a glimpse. No luxury car. No designer watch. No expensive backdrop. Just an ordinary dress shirt.
The caption was even simpler: [From my love.]
Followed by three smiling emojis.
Lucinda went silent.
After two seconds, she finally turned to him. "Reginald."
"What?"
"Aren't you supposed to be cold and aloof in public?"
Reginald's expression remained perfectly natural, his tone utterly earnest. "Cold and aloof is for other people. Showing off my love? That's different."
Lucinda laughed despite herself and gave him a light swat. "Ridiculous."
Reginald didn't seem to mind at all. He looked down at his Instagram post again, his smile widening. His good mood was practically written across his face.
Meanwhile, at Lancaster Group headquarters.
The meeting had just ended. Aiden Smith, assistant, carried his water glass while organizing files, preparing to brief Reginald on the afternoon schedule.
His phone buzzed.
He glanced down. The boss had posted on Instagram.
Aiden opened it casually. The next second—
Water sprayed everywhere.
Several nearby secretaries jumped. "Aiden, what happened?"
Aiden wiped the desk, staring at his phone with a complicated expression.
On Instagram, the notoriously ruthless Mr. Lancaster—the man who made the entire business world tremble—had posted a photo of a shirt.
The caption was one sentence.
[From my love.]
Aiden went silent.
He quietly closed his phone. Suddenly, this didn't surprise him at all.
The only person in the world who could make Mr. Lancaster this happy was Ms. Wipere.
No need to guess—that shirt was definitely from her.
Anyone else could give him something worth millions, and Mr. Lancaster wouldn't even blink.
Thinking this, Aiden shook his head with a rueful smile.
Other CEOs were busy negotiating billion-dollar deals. His CEO was busy showing off clothes his girlfriend made him.
And clearly loving every second of it.
On the other side, Lucinda's phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID, her expression softened. "Mom."
Valencia's warm voice came through immediately. "Cindy, are you busy?"
"Not at all."
"Good." Valencia sounded pleased. "I bought you a few more outfits today—all the latest styles. Try them on tonight when you get home. If you don't like them, I'll go shopping with you again."
Lucinda smiled helplessly. "Okay."
Then Valencia's tone shifted, full of anticipation. "Your aunt and her family are coming for dinner tomorrow. It'll be the first time they officially meet you. I want to introduce you properly. They're family—no need to be nervous."
Lucinda murmured her agreement. "I know."
Valencia suddenly seemed to remember something. "Oh, does Reginald have time?"
Lucinda instinctively glanced at Reginald beside her, focused on driving. A faint smile touched her eyes. "He should."
"Ask him for me, would you? If he's free, I'd love for him to join us for dinner tomorrow night."
"I'll tell him."
"And one more thing." Valencia's tone turned serious. "Work is work, but your health comes first. Don't burn yourself out over your career."
As soon as she finished speaking, Lucinda's phone buzzed. A bank notification popped up.
[Your account has received $500,000.]
Lucinda went silent.
She didn't even need to guess who sent it.
On the phone, Valencia was already speaking again, laughter in her voice. "I just transferred you five hundred thousand. You work so hard—buy whatever you like, eat whatever you want. Don't deprive yourself. If you need more, just tell me."
Lucinda rubbed her temple, caught between exasperation and amusement.
The Douglas family's love language was apparently identical across generations.
"Mom, I have enough."
"Enough? You're out working constantly. What if you want to buy something and don't have cash on hand? Take it." Valencia's tone left no room for argument. "Alright, I'm hanging up now. Remember to try on those clothes tonight."