Chapter 4

Mr. Thompson brought Lucas to my house to apologize.

When Lucas saw me, his suppressed resentment surfaced again:

"I just wanted to pursue true love! I don't like Rachel, why should I be with her?"

Mr. Thompson was about to slap him again.

I interrupted with a smile: "It's okay, Mr. Thompson."

Lucas glanced at me: "Don't pretend to be nice!"

"I'm not speaking up for you," I leaned back on the sofa, "I have suitors lined up from here to New York. If you're gone, there's always the next one. Who cares?"

Hearing this, Mr. Thompson's face darkened even more, probably thinking my words were unpleasant.

"Lucas, I don't care if you want to find true love and go against your family, but why did you bring someone I don't even know to ruin my birthday party?"

I looked him up and down.

Probably because of the issue with Lily, he looked unusually haggard today, even wearing the same suit from yesterday's birthday party.

You should know that in the past, Lucas always carefully coordinated his outfit from head to toe to maintain his image as a young gentleman.

He would never let others see him in such a state.

Mr. Thompson apologized first.

"Rachel, I'm sorry about this," Mr. Thompson said, "but I will never allow Lucas to be with that girl..."

Lucas, who had always been willful, went crazy upon hearing this:

"What right do you have to control my life?"

"Because I'm your father!"

"I don't want you to manage me!" Lucas turned and ran.

Mr. Thompson's face turned red with anger: "Do you believe I'll cancel your credit card?"

I laughed so hard my shoulders shook: "Mr. Thompson, Lucas isn't a child anymore, don't threaten him with that."

After graduating from university, Mr. Thompson had invested in a clothing company, and Lucas became the general manager.

The threat of canceling his credit card couldn't scare him anymore.

Mr. Thompson forced a smile: "This rebellious son, I won't cover for him anymore."

Lucas was arrogant and self-centered, never considering market demands, just producing whatever clothes he wanted.

The clothes he made either violated ergonomics or went against popular aesthetics.

The designers in his company often complained bitterly.

But he would say: "The clothes I make were never meant for the lower-end market."

His clothing line was ignored as soon as it hit the market.

Each time, Mr. Thompson had to dig into his own pocket to cover Lucas's losses.

Lucas's fragile ego was bruised, and when facing me, he would make excuses:

"Those people just have no taste."

To protect his little bit of self-esteem, I never said anything negative.