Part 3The Billionaire's Trash Princess

Mr. Sterling was superstitious and insisted on picking an auspicious date for the license.

Lucas acted like I was going to run away, refusing to go home.

"Don't overthink it," he said, hands in his pockets, trying to look cool. "You just got back, you don't know anyone. As your fiancé, it's my duty to keep you company."

I glanced at my parents, who had just seen Mr. Sterling out, and my adopted sister who never looked me in the eye.

"Are you close with them?"

Before Lucas could answer, Tiffany jumped in, voice dripping with honey.

"Lucas used to come over all the time when we were kids."

She tried to take his arm.

Lucas dodged behind me instantly, shouting dramatically.

"Hey lady, who are you?! I'm a married man!"

He buried his face in my shoulder, looking up innocently.

"Wifey, from now on I only play with you."

Tiffany turned red, then white.

She stiffly took Dad's arm, forcing a smile.

"Dad, Zoe and Lucas get along so well..."

Dad tried to smooth things over.

"Lucas, Tiffany isn't an outsider..."

But Lucas wasn't having it.

"Sorry, I don't talk to women other than my wife. Especially nonsense."

He grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs.

He really must have visited a lot.

He knew exactly where my room was on the second floor.

But when he opened the door, he frowned deeply.

My heart jumped. Did I offend the young master?

"What? Is the Road family this broke?"

"Huh?"

I was confused.

He kicked the sofa with disdain.

"Fake leather."

Pointed at the stuffed animals.

"Knock-offs."

Finally, he looked at the worn-out bed.

"Is this bed from a dump?"

Um...

I looked around. It seemed fine to me...

Back with my adoptive parents, I slept in a storage room.

"Actually, I'm easy to please, you don't have to—"

"What!"

He cut me off, voice sharp.

"Lucas Sterling's wife being 'easy to please'?!"

He stormed downstairs angrily.

Within an hour, Dad painfully led a team of interior designers into the house.

They worked fast, transforming my room.

Lucas held my hand proudly, eyes shining like a puppy waiting for a treat.

"How is it?"

His hand was hot. My brain short-circuited.

"It's hot..."

He froze. I blushed and corrected myself.

"I mean, the room is great!"

I saw his smirk and turned away shyly, only to see Tiffany walking past the door.

She stared at the new furniture, face dark. When she looked at me, I felt hatred.