LUCIFER'S HUMAN BRIDE

"Lucinda, Lucinda, are you alright?" Ralph asked, his gaze fixated on her with an unsettling intensity. Lucinda weakly met his eyes and replied, "Yes," before slowly walking away, her nose wrinkling as blood began to trickle from it. Concerned, Ralph rushed to her side, holding her hand gently. "You're bleeding," he remarked, swiftly retrieving a handkerchief to staunch the flow.

"Thank you," Lucinda muttered, forcing a smile that failed to conceal its artificiality.

"That's a warning from me," Lucifer interjected as Lucinda and Ralph made their way to the company cafeteria. They settled down, Ralph ordering their food while Lucinda attempted to immerse herself in her meal. Just as she was about to take a bite, her phone rang, revealing an unfamiliar number on the screen.

"Hello," she answered, her tone cautious. "How are you? It's me, Nathan," a familiar voice declared bluntly.

Unfazed, Lucinda inquired, "I'm good. Why are you calling?" Nathan's response was straightforward: "Stop joking around. Would I call without a reason? I just wanted to check on you." Ralph sneered, his curiosity piqued. "Who's that?" he asked in a low tone. Lucinda replied, "I'll call you back," ending the call abruptly.

"Nathan," she divulged, and Ralph pressed for more information. "Who's Nathan?" he queried, his curiosity tinged with a hint of concern.

"He's the guy you saw at the restaurant yesterday," Lucinda replied, absentmindedly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Ralph's frown deepened as he probed, "What does he want from you now?" Lucinda's response was soft, almost a whisper.

"He just wanted to know how I was." Ralph clenched his fists beneath the table, his protective instincts kicking in. "If he's bothering you, don't hesitate to tell me," he asserted. Lucinda, however, dismissed his assumption.

"When did I say he was bothering me? He's actually quite helpful," she stated, causing a flush to spread across Ralph's face. Struggling to find words, he turned his attention back to his food, eating while his gaze remained fixed on Lucinda. She noticed his unwavering stare and averted her eyes, focusing on her own meal. The remainder of their dinner passed in silence, punctuated only by the clatter of utensils cutting through the tension.

"Shall we go now?" Ralph eventually broke the silence, dabbing his mouth with a blue handkerchief. "Yes, of course," Lucinda replied, retrieving her bag, and they departed together, making their way back to the office. Ralph requested coffee from Lucinda before settling in with his reading glasses. She entered the office pantry, where coffee was kept, and prepared two mugs, filling them with hot water. Placing the mugs on the counter, she suddenly felt a presence behind her. Turning swiftly, her gaze collided with her husband, a mixture of surprise and astonishment on her face.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, her grip on the table tightening, eyes fixed on him. His deep, resonant voice asked, "Are you scared of me? Why do you look at me like that?" Lucinda's response was timid, her voice laced with shyness. "I had no idea you could visit Earth whenever you wanted," she admitted.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

A smile crept across his face as he moved closer, his imposing presence making her instinctively step back, gripping the edge of the table for support. "Are you underestimating me or something?" he questioned, his proximity causing her to retreat further, averting her gaze. His grip on her chin compelled her to meet his intense eyes as she asked, "Why did you act that way in the dragon's chamber? Why did you torment me there?"

Lucifer's response was direct, lacking hesitation. "I thought you wouldn't ask. I was merely showing you a glimpse of what I'm capable of if I catch you showing any attachment or leaping toward that human," he admitted with a grin. Confidence filled her voice as she replied, "I assure you, I feel nothing for him," locking eyes with him unwaveringly. However, as his lips drew nearer to hers, an unfamiliar discomfort settled within her. Acting on instinct, her hand pressed against his chest, involuntarily halting his advance. "Stop! Someone's coming," she lied, desperately hoping he would release her. With crossed arms and a suspicious gaze, he backed away, scanning the surroundings as if searching for signs of deception.

"In this professional environment, if you wish to spend time with me, I suggest waiting until we are at home," she firmly suggested, seizing the opportunity. He turned, rage evident in his eyes, flames seemingly dancing within them. "Perhaps I was right. You've grown fond of that human," he accused, closing the distance between them once more, his hand harshly gripping her neck. Frantically, she pleaded, "No, it's not what you think. He sent me to fetch him coffee. If I linger any longer, he'll come looking for me."

Trying to reason with him, she explained, "I am here with you. I am your husband, yet all you can focus on is that human." Struggling to comprehend, he regarded her, his expression shifting from anger to a momentary calm. "Try to understand, this is a professional setting," she implored, hoping to make him see reason. And in that fleeting calm, he acquiesced, saying, "Fine, I'll leave. I'll come to you whenever I feel like it. Tomorrow, I will tell you what you need to do to dispose of him."

His proclamation left her with a chilling sense of dread. "I already have a plan to poison him. I will execute it tomorrow," she declared, watching as he released his grip on her neck. "I wish I could lock your heart," he murmured before disappearing, leaving her bewildered. What did he mean by locking her heart? Was he right? Had she truly developed feelings for Ralph? Perhaps he was merely overthinking things.

Shaking off her thoughts, she turned her attention to the two cups of coffee in her hands, now grown cold. Emptying them into the sink, she refilled one cup, determined.

Entering the office, she caught sight of Ralph sound asleep at his desk, his disheveled hair obscuring his face, and his eyeglasses precariously positioned. Assuming he must have been exhausted, she gingerly placed the cup of coffee on his desk, gently brushing aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen across his face.