He's Blind, I'm His Fake Fiancée for a Year

Chapter 6

The next day, I quit my job at the restaurant.

For once, my usually indifferent manager was unusually eager to keep me, even offering to double my salary.

Something was off.

Was Lucas looking for me?

I turned down the offer without hesitation and even took a leave of absence from the training institute.

Then, like a coward, I holed up at home for days.

Only when I was sure Lucas wasn't searching for me anymore did I finally dare to step outside.

I went to the supermarket, planning to pick up groceries and make soup for William. My little brother was seventeen now, he needed to recover quickly so he could take his college entrance exams.

But as I climbed the stairs to our apartment, I froze.

A tall figure stood in front of my door.

Dressed in expensive casualwear, he looked entirely out of place in this run-down neighborhood.

Lucas.

His gaze locked onto mine, a simmering anger in his eyes.

"I finally found you."

Then, slowly, he said my name.

"Aria."

Each syllable rolled off his tongue like a warning, his jaw clenched tight.

My fingers tightened around the grocery bag as I forced myself to stay calm.

"What do you want?" I asked flatly. "I don't know you."

"You don't know me?"

He let out a sharp laugh, then stalked toward me, his cold gaze pressing down like a weight.

I instinctively stepped back.

Too late.

He cornered me against the wall, the heat of his presence swallowing up the space between us.

Before I could react, his hand reached up, fingers curling around the back of my neck.

Then he leaned in,

I flinched, my breath hitching, my body going rigid.

Just as I was about to cry out, his hand covered my mouth.

"Explain to me," he murmured, his voice dangerously low, "why your panicked reactions… and even your scent… are exactly the same as my wife's?"

My chest tightened.

His nose brushed against the curve of my neck, the near-contact making my skin prickle with shame and fury.

"Lucas, let go of me!" I struggled, my voice muffled.

"Oh?" He tilted his head, an infuriating smirk playing at his lips. "Now you remember my name?"

Flustered, I averted my gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

After a moment, he released me, his fingers lingering just long enough to smooth out my slightly disheveled collar.

"Stop running," he said, his tone softer but no less firm. "I just want to talk."

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling at my sides.

Helplessly, I nodded, my eyes burning red.