"Hmm... So, Lucas, you're saying I got the lead role in 'Republic Love Stories'?"
Upstairs in the villa's study, a sultry female voice echoed through the doorframe, making Rose freeze mid-step.
She glanced through the slight crack in the door—inside, a half-dressed woman was straddling the man at the desk. He lounged in a loose robe, left hand flipping through documents, right hand gripping the woman’s waist, then sliding down to give her a harsh squeeze.
"No one else could play that role but you. You’ll join the crew in three days."
Lucas leaned back lazily on the couch, lips curled in a faint smirk, hand casually roaming the woman's soft curves while she let out sharp gasps.
"This is outrageous, ma’am!" Mrs. Walker, the housekeeper standing beside Rose, huffed in disbelief.
Sure, Lucas was no stranger to women, but straight-up bringing one back for a sleepover? That was a new low.
Rose’s knuckles turned white around the strap of her purse. Once the noises inside died down, she pushed open the door and walked in.
"Hey! Don’t you know how to knock?" the woman snapped, annoyed, twisting her head around.
The moment she saw who it was, her face went pale in an instant.
"Oh please, a mistress waltzing into the house like she owns it? And you have the nerve to lecture me about manners?" Rose’s voice was calm, but it cut through the room like a blade.
Lucas closed his folder, lit a cigar and took a drag, smoke curling around his sharp features. He looked like he was enjoying the drama.
"What’s wrong, Mrs. Grant? Jealous, are we?"
Getting no reaction from Lucas, the woman seemed to gain confidence, stepping right up to Rose with a smug look. "Drop the act. This isn’t your first time walking in on something like this. You know how many women Lucas has been with. You still not used to being the awkward third wheel in your own home?"
She leaned in, lips practically touching Rose’s ear. "Wanna know what people say about you? They say you’re... a chicken that can't lay eggs."
Rose stiffened. The words hit like a slap in the face, cutting straight through the defenses she had built so carefully.
A chicken that can't lay eggs.
Three years of marriage, zero children—and the Grant family breathing down her neck day and night, wanting an heir.
But who would know... that after all this time with Lucas, she was still a virgin?
Not once had they shared a bed. Where was she supposed to magically produce a baby?
She met the other woman’s mocking eyes, and something shifted in her.
“Bring it in,” she called to the hallway, voice frosty.
The woman frowned. When the door opened again, her entire face fell.
A few male housekeepers walked in, the one leading held a wooden tray with two bowls filled with a thick, dark liquid.
"Both are tonics," Rose said coolly. "One’s for my hardworking husband—since he’s been so... ‘busy’ lately."
Lucas paused as he crushed out his cigar, lips twitching faintly with interest.
"And the other one," Rose turned her gaze to the woman, "is all yours, Miss Downer."
Melissa’s face turned ghost white. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Rose stepped toward her, a cold smile tugging at her lips as her eyes turned sharp. “Think just because I can't give the Grant family a kid, you can? If you wanna be his woman on the side, better be ready to never have kids at all.”