Chapter 32 You're mine, babe
His father’s expression hardened, the warmth draining from his eyes as he shot to his feet. “Derby is the future of this family. That marriage secures alliances you don’t even understand.”
“I don’t care about your alliances, Dad,” Lucas shot back. “I want my own life.”
His father laughed softly, a sound devoid of humor. “Then you’ll earn it the hard way.”
Lucas frowned. “What do you mean by that? You're threatening your own son?”
“If you’re my son then do as I say!” His father snapped, stepping closer, voice low and deliberate. “As long as you refuse to marry Derby, no company will hire you. No doors will open. No peace will find you.”
Lucas’s jaw tightened. “You think starving me into submission will work?”
“I know it will,” his father replied calmly. “You know why? Because this world answers to power and power answers to people who wield it.”
Lucas shook his head, disbelief and rage colliding inside him. “So, you’re willing to destroy your own son’s future for a business deal.”
“I’m trying to secure your future,” his father corrected. “Marry Derby, and everything ends. Jobs, freedom, comfort, all will be restored. Refuse… and you’ll keep running into walls.”
Lucas met his father’s gaze, unflinching.
"If that is your definition of your fatherly love, then I’ll keep running, I don't want to be your son again!” he snapped.
Angrily his father glared at him, “Let me have those keys, I bought that car.”
Lucas shot him a surprised look. “The car is in my name and you still want it back?”
“Well, didn't I buy it by myself.?” His father extended his hands for the keys.
“Fine, take the gaddamn keys, after all, it's not worse than my frozen account. Let me tell you, old man, “I won’t sell myself no matter what.”
For the first time, something dark flickered in his father’s eyes.
“Be careful, Lucas,” he warned. “Defiance has consequences.”
“Take your own advice,” Lucas turned and walked away, his chest tight but his resolve remained unbroken. He didn’t know how he would survive without work. He didn’t know how long he could hold on. Depending on Nathan forever wasn’t an option. Deep down, he knew that sooner or later, he would have to stand on his own.
His thoughts swirled, maybe leaving the city was the answer. He would disappear and start over somewhere his father’s shadow couldn’t reach.
But one thing was unshakable.
He would never marry Derby.
Not for peace, not for power, and certainly not for survival.
Stepping out of his father’s company building, Lucas made one last decision: if it failed after three days, he would leave the city. So his new resolve…since the corporate world was closed to him, he would take the back door. He would stop thinking like an accountant and stop dreaming like a chef. He decided to go for dishwashing, janitor, kitchen helper —anything that kept him close to food and far from his father’s influence. After all, work was work.
That afternoon, he walked into two small eateries and a coffee shop. Same outcome. Polite smiles, apologies, or no vacancies.
He felt so down. By the time the sun dipped lower in the sky, exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders. Feeling defeated, Lucas turned toward the road, ready to call it a day.
But then his phone buzzed. It was an unknown number. His heart skipped as he answered immediately, hope flickering to life despite himself.
“Hello?”
“Is this Lucas Westman?” a male voice asked from the other end.
“Yes,” he replied quickly, every sense sharpening. “This is Lucas Westman speaking.”
“After reviewing your résumé,” the man said, “The company has decided to employ you as an assistant chef, effective immediately. However, there’s one condition.”
Lucas' heart stopped as he paused in his tracks, his ear very attentive.
“To work at Benson’s,” he continued, “You’ll need to sign a contract committing to the company for a minimum of three years.”
For a second, he thought he had misheard. Lowering his voice he asked, “Anything else, sir?” he asked, barely daring to breathe.
“No, Lucas. That’s the only requirement, and of course, new recipes are welcomed for trial,” he replied. “If you’re willing to sign, you can come in right away. The office closes at six p.m. But if you need time to think it over, you have this night.”
His pulse spiked. “I’m good with it and I'm coming immediately. I’ll be there in less than thirty minutes.”
“Very well. We’ll be expecting you.” The call ended.
Lucas didn’t hesitate. He spun around and broke into a hurried stride, then a run, adrenaline flooding his veins. Benson’s eatery was only a few streets away, but every second mattered.
For the first time in days, hope wasn’t just a thought. It was real. At last, he had gotten a job.
On arriving at the company he marveled at how huge the eatery was. He was led to an office where a lady sat.
When given the employment letter and the contract. It seemed like a film to him. The remuneration was very encouraging, so blinded by relief, Lucas barely glanced at the pages of the contract that slid across the desk. His eyes caught only the bold words for three years, and that was enough.
Instantly, his hands moved faster than his thoughts, signing where he was told, eager to seal the miracle before it vanished. When the lady smiled and told him to resume work the next morning, a rush of joy flooded him. For the first time in a week, he walked out of Benson’s with light steps, convinced his worries were finally behind him.
Meanwhile, two days earlier, Nathan had called Alex, asking if there was any vacancy in any of his eateries. Alex answered absentmindedly that there was none. Still, Nathan didn’t give up. He went ahead and sent Lucas’s CV straight to Alex’s email.
Moments later, he sent a message as well.
“Sweet pie, you said I should call if I ever needed anything. About the CV I sent, Lucas is a very good friend of mine, and he desperately needs a job. He was the best in our culinary program. His new cookie recipe was insane; you have to taste it. Please, squeeze him in somewhere. Trust me, you won’t regret it. Lucas is a damn good chef.
When the message dropped, Alex was buried deep in business negotiations, barely glancing at his phone. He skimmed it once and chuckled, assuming it was just Nathan being dramatic—or flirting. He dismissed it without another thought.
It wasn’t until that morning that he finally revisited the message. When he got to the name, it hit him like a spark.
Lucas.
Alex’s heart skipped violently, thudding against his chest as if it recognized the name before his mind did. Something stirred within him, urgent and familiar. He abandoned everything else and rushed to his email, fingers tense as he opened the attached CV.
Hurriedly, he scrolled straight to the passport photograph. And there he was.
Alex froze.
The face on the screen stared back at him—clear, vivid, unmistakable. His mystery guy. The one who had haunted his thoughts, the one he hadn’t been able to forget the taste of his lips. Alex zoomed in, his pulse racing, his chest tight with disbelief. It wasn’t a coincidence. Joy exploded through him, wild and uncontrollable.
He sprang to his feet, laughter bursting from his lips as he punched the air.
“Yes!” he shouted, grinning like a man possessed. “At last—it’s you, my mystery guy.”
His eyes softened as he stared at the screen again. “So your name is really Lucas,” he murmured, heart spiraling with certainty. “And I can feel it in my bones… It’s you. You’re mine, babe.”