Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2 Chapter 128: Back to work

Since scraping her knee, Beauty had been playing the role of an invalid at ho, holed up in her room all day without even venturing downstairs.

Even if she managed to sneak back to her own room, Lucas would inevitably drag her into his by nightfall.

But sothing felt off lately—Lucas had been acting strangely around her.

She couldn’t shake the suspicion that he’d caught her snooping through his photo album.

The way he looked at her sotis was... unsettling.

Finally, her wound had mostly healed, and the special leave Lucas had granted her was up.

The day she returned to work happened to coincide with the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the company’s new branch.

Trailing behind Lucas, she bounced around in her flat shoes like a miraculously recovered cripple.

"Beauty, is your knee completely better now?"

Sarah spotted her imdiately and hurried over to greet her.

The two leaned in close, chatting intimately. The ceremony was packed—nearly all the top executives from both companies were there, along with a swarm of dia.

Cara flashes flickered incessantly, nearly blinding.

As the CEO’s personal assistant standing by his side, she inadvertently beca the center of attention.

Then, a young woman in a beige dress erged from the crowd.

Beauty’s gaze instinctively locked onto this unfamiliar face.

"Sarah, who’s that pretty girl over there?"

Following her line of sight, Sarah also noticed Nathalie, who stood out effortlessly in the crowd with her high ponytail and crisp, polished deanor.

"That’s the new designer for the branch office.

She just returned from studying abroad. She is from Paris. Lucas reviewed her portfolio and was impressed by her talent.

She’s one of the first batch of new hires, so Assistant Lena invited her to the ceremony."

Sarah spoke casually, completely missing the shift in Beauty’s expression.

After secretly poring over all those photos of Lucas and Alia, how could she not see it?

There was sothing—just a faint trace—in this woman’s eyes and brows that resembled Alia.

But only a sliver.

Their auras couldn’t have been more different.

One gentle and graceful, the other lively and spirited.

"Sarah, don’t you think that girl looks a bit like..."

"Like Alia, right?

Probably everyone who’s seen her thinks the sa!

I heard she was introduced by Drake and Samantha.

Who knows if it was intentional or not, letting a woman like that stay at Marson Corporation."

Anyone could see that Nathalie resembled Lucas’s late wife.

She refused to believe Samantha hadn’t noticed—and even if Samantha hadn’t, surely Drake must have.

Speak of the devil, and here they ca.

Samantha clung affectionately to Drake’s arm, smiling as they approached.

There was nowhere to hide, so she braced herself and faced them head-on.

"Little Beauty, long ti no see."

Drake never missed a chance to tease her.

She ignored him, turning her head away—only to catch sight of Lucas surrounded by a crowd, with Nathalie standing right beside him.

The woman bore an uncanny resemblance to Alia.

The two were deep in conversation, heads slightly bowed.

Nathalie wore a faint, demure smile, the very picture of a delicate, submissive woman.

An inexplicable pang of jealousy twisted inside her, and her brows furrowed involuntarily.

"Little Beauty seems to be in a bad mood.

Where’s your dear CEO?" As he spoke, Drake scanned the room for Lucas—just in ti to spot him whispering intimately with Nathalie.

Realization dawned, and a sly grin spread across his face.

"So that’s why our Little Beauty is so down—soone’s feeling jealous!"

"Ugh! You’re the jealous one! I’m in a bad mood because I don’t want to see certain people.

Don’t go reading into things."

Beauty let out a disdainful snort through her nose, then tugged at Sarah’s arm with icy determination.

"Sarah, let’s go sit over there for a while," she said coldly.

Sarah hesitated for a brief mont as they started toward the corner, then turned back.

Her gaze settled calmly on Drake.

"I heard Nathalie was recomnded to Lucas by your team.

Surely you must realize her appearance isn’t exactly... suitable for soone in his circle?"

"Sarah, don’t bla Drake," ca the smooth interjection.

"Nathalie was my recomndation.

She’s my junior from design school—exceptionally talented.

I’ll admit, at first glance, there’s a faint resemblance to Alia.

But spend ti with her, and you’ll see they’re nothing alike."

Sarah’s lips curved slightly.

"Honestly, it’s none of my concern.

And I’m certain Lucas values her for her work, not so superficial similarity."

She turned to Beauty, voice softening.

"Let’s go rest.

You’ve been running around all day—you must be exhausted." Without another glance, she linked arms with Beauty and strode toward the quietest corner of the venue, a shadowed alcove where no eyes would follow.

Silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Beauty’s mind replayed Lucas’s expression during his earlier exchange with Nathalie—that faint, amused quirk of his lips, the relaxed ease in his posture.

anwhile, Sarah’s gaze kept drifting to where Drake stood, fingers entwined with Samantha’s.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips.

Years had passed, yet the wound still festered.

To anyone but Lucas—or perhaps the guileless girl beside her—her carefully buried feelings for Drake would remain invisible.

*If you loved him so deeply, why couldn’t you forgive?*

Lucas had asked her that once.

She rembered clutching a beer bottle until her knuckles whitened, the ache too visceral for words.

Perhaps, had she loved him less, she might have pardoned his youthful recklessness, that drunken mistake.

But so fractures ran too deep.

But precisely because she loved him so fiercely—so intensely it felt like she could tear him apart—she found it impossible to truly forgive him deep down.

"Director Sarah, Beauty, President Lucas is looking for you both.

After the ribbon-cutting ceremony, you’re to join him in entertaining the clients over dinner."

*Another client dinner*, Beauty thought, suppressing a frown.

Lena’s sharp, discerning gaze swept over her briefly, her lips curving into a faint smile.

"Beauty, why do you look so out of it today? This is the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new branch—you should at least put on so energy.

It’s just a knee injury, not so life-threatening illness."

"Assistant Lena, is that really necessary?

I may just be a lowly assistant, but you don’t have to wish ill!"

Beauty pursed her lips in displeasure, her already sour mood darkening further.

Her expression turned even more sullen.

Then, a sudden chill prickled her skin—she didn’t need to look up to know where that icy glare was coming from.

Instantly, she fell into step obediently behind Sarah and Lena, trailing toward Lucas without eting his eyes, her deanor distant and distracted.