Chapter 11: A Woman's Slap is a Man's Badge of Charm
"Playing me for a fool, is that fun?" Lucas asked.
"Watching me get jealous over other men, does that make you feel proud?"
Lucas bit my shoulder again, but this time much lighter, tender and intimate, as if we'd never broken up and were still tangled together in bed.
"Extremely fun." My cold voice trembled slightly. "You're the one who wanted to divorce me, so what are you trying to do now? You claim to love Amelia, yet you neglect her. Is cheating your hobby, and having affairs your passion? Do you need to hold one woman while thinking about another, or else you can't get it up?"
Lucas grabbed my chin, forcing me to turn and face him: "So you're quite good at cursing. Was all that obedience in front of me before just an act?"
I stared at him coldly. Lucas didn't like me looking at him that way. He covered my eyes with his hand, and a punishing kiss fell on my lips.
I twisted my head away in resistance. Just then, the lounge door was kicked open. Adrian and Cole burst in, startled to see Lucas, then immediately raised their guns at him: "Let go of Ms. Sorelli!"
Lucas glanced at them casually, released my hand, and placed his left hand on my shoulder. His fingertips, calloused from handling guns, rubbed the painful bite mark. The pain intensified, and a tremor like an electric current spread across my skin.
"Not bad." He admired his handiwork. "Very noticeable. If you don't want people to see it, change your clothes."
As Lucas spoke, he took off his jacket and draped it over me.
Then he calmly walked toward Adrian and Cole's gun barrels, passed between them, and strode away.
"Ms. Sorelli, are you alright?" Adrian asked somewhat awkwardly. He'd seen a bright red handprint on Lucas's face!
"I'm fine, just got bitten by a dog." I was irritated. Just then, Marcus rushed over: "Bella, are you okay? I heard that bastard Lucas barged into your lounge!"
"Marcus, I'm fine."
"You?" Marcus carefully examined my expression, relaxed a bit, then asked with confusion: "Whose jacket is that on you?"
He reached out to take the jacket off, but I instinctively dodged Marcus's hand.
Marcus looked confused: "Bella?"
"It's nothing." I didn't want Marcus to see the bite mark on my back. I walked to the wardrobe, took out a lotus pink silk shawl and draped it over myself, tossing Lucas's jacket into the trash.
Marcus looked at my mouth with a strange expression. "Bella, your lipstick smudged."
I let out an awkward dry laugh.
The smudged lipstick must be on Lucas's mouth. With that handprint still on his face, surely he wouldn't just swagger into the banquet hall like that, would he?
As it turned out, I had underestimated how brazen Lucas could be.
Before long, I heard that someone had asked Lucas who hit him. Lucas vaguely answered "not Amelia." The person then asked: "Was it Isabella?" Lucas just smiled without saying anything.
What difference was there between that and directly admitting it was me?
That person even boldly asked Lucas how it felt to be slapped. Lucas replied: "A woman's slap is a badge of honor for a man's charm."
Gale, Brian, and Marcus were so angry they wanted to kick Lucas out, but I talked them down.
Lucas's foundation in Starstream City was more solid than ours. I didn't break ties with him even over the divorce, so getting kissed wasn't that big a deal.
I was more interested in knowing who had asked Lucas about his feelings and spread his words everywhere.
Soon I found out—it was Jonas Donovan, the behind-the-scenes owner of Elite Emporium.
Jonas was thirty-two, looked young for his age, had a round face, was always smiling, and loved fun, novel things.
I invited him to the reception room for a private talk. Jonas, probably curious about what kind of woman would slap Lucas, readily accepted my invitation.
"'A woman's slap is a badge of honor for a man's charm.'" Jonas clicked his tongue. "Lucas hates womanizing men like his father. Never thought I'd live to hear him say something like that."
I calmly made coffee. "Like father, like son. In biology, that's called heredity."
Jonas laughed heartily. "You're really interesting! I heard from Julie she'd met you a few times before. You didn't seem particularly special, and many people were wondering what attracted Lucas to you. Turns out, Lucas wouldn't fall for a boring woman."
I smiled slightly. "Lucas doesn't love me. He loves Amelia."
"Is that so?" Jonas propped his head up with one hand, his index finger tapping lightly at his temple, looking thoughtful: "As far as I know, whenever Lucas has time, he goes to Dawnharbor to see Amelia. Each time he just meets her briefly, says a few words, and leaves after Amelia accepts his gift."
I couldn't help but frown. This was the first time I'd heard about this.
"Amelia has quite a few suitors in Dawnharbor. Her face is indeed nice, but if you interact with her long enough, you'll find she's quite stupid. The only reason she can string along several men is because her mother coaches her behind the scenes." Jonas giggled. "Want to make a bet? Guess how long before Lucas gets tired of Amelia?"
"I'm not guessing." I shook my head. "Mr. Donovan, I invited you here to talk business."
"Alright, go ahead." Jonas took a sip of coffee, looking disappointed.
"I know half the credit for Regal Court Mall's great reputation belongs to you. I hope you can add some things to Platinum Haven Hotel that can't be found elsewhere." I said.
"What are you planning to sell at the hotel? How much profit could there be?" Jonas leaned back lazily in his chair. "My cooperation with Lucas is currently very stable. I'm not planning to change partners."
I wasn't discouraged by his attitude. "I don't mean to compete with Lucas for business. The hotel has plenty of generous guests. If you can provide luxury goods like those at Elite Emporium, I'd be satisfied. Actually, I'm more interested in selling things through your supply channels."
"Oh?" Jonas tilted his head.
I took out two boxes of ointment I'd formulated. "These two medicines work very well on external injuries. One can reduce inflammation and pain while speeding recovery—three times better than the best products currently on the market. The other is a hemostatic ointment."
I pulled out a fruit knife from the fruit plate and without hesitation cut a wound on my left arm. Jonas shouted "wait," but the blood was already flowing.
Jonas looked at me in surprise.
I opened the medicine jar, took out a bit of ointment. The paste was very smooth, spreading evenly with just one application, quickly adhering to the wound surface and forming a thin medicinal film.
The bleeding stopped.
Jonas sat up straight, stared at my arm for a while, then called his bodyguard in and tested the medicine on him.
"The effect is indeed good." Jonas picked up the test report on the table and read it carefully. "You don't mind if I take a few jars back for more testing, do you?"
"Of course not." I took out two boxes of ointment I'd prepared earlier, each box containing 12 jars, each jar 35 grams.
Jonas narrowed his eyes. "You've already started production?"
"Yes." I handed him a proposal. "Currently there are three pharmaceutical factories with seven production lines, capable of producing at least five thousand jars daily. You can visit the factories anytime."
A gleam flashed in Jonas's eyes. "How do you want to cooperate?"