Stupid
644 Words
After a ten-minute drive, they finally arrived at Olivia’s mansion.
“Put this on.”
Olivia tossed a luxury-branded bag at Lucan before retreating to her bedroom to change into silk pajamas.
Lucan gripped the bag, muttering under his breath:
The customer is always right! The customer is always right!
Even with his mental preparation, he froze when he saw the contents.
A maid costume?
Seriously? A dress for him—a grown man?
“Got a problem?”
Olivia emerged, her voice dripping with icy indifference. She wore an emerald-green silk nightgown, its straps slipping off her sharp collarbones, accentuating her porcelain shoulders. Removing her glasses under the stark light, she looked both stunning and intimidating.
Lucan forced a professional smile.
“No problem.”
You’re the boss. Whatever.
“Good.”
Olivia’s crimson lips curled as she swept her dark hair into a loose bun, strands framing her neck. Normally, Lucan would’ve complimented her beauty—but today was different.
His eyes locked onto the item in her hand.
Is that… a collar bell? Like something out of a cartoon?
Olivia’s tone sharpened. “Custom-made. Expensive. You’ll love it.”
Seeing Lucan flinch, Olivia smirked. She reveled in breaking his defiance. How dare he abandon her for some “true love”? Pathetic.
She stepped closer, fingers grazing his throat. Moments later, she fastened the bell around his neck.
“Perfect.”
Lucan stumbled into her arms, meeting her manic gaze. Her breath, cold and scented, brushed his ear:
“Wear this every time you’re here. Understood? Still dreaming of true love?”
Lucan knew she was conflating him with her ex-fiancé. He played along.
“No. I only love you.”
“Shut up!”
The answer should’ve pleased her, but his downturned eyes and clenched jaw stirred an ache in her chest. Annoyed, she blamed his defiance.
“Change. Then cook. Disobey, and I’ll parade you outside like this.”
Lucan picked up the maid outfit, inwardly cursing.
Psycho. Absolute psycho.
Still, he asked politely, “Professor Olivia, what would you like? Maybe rib soup? You’ve been busy—”
“Figure it out yourself!” She slammed her office door.
Crazy b***h.
In the dressing room, Lucan examined himself in the mirror. The frilly dress hugged his frame.
“Not bad. My face does sell it. Should’ve thrown in stockings, though.”
He smirked. Olivia wanted him humiliated? He’d give her a show. Emotional labor came with the paycheck.
“Hell, skirts are practical. No ‘left or right’ dilemma.”
Later, in the kitchen, he grumbled, “Could’ve just given me the cash instead of this nonsense.”
At 12:30 PM, Lucan knocked on Olivia’s study door, apron still tied over the maid dress.
“Dinner’s ready.”
Olivia stormed out, her glare lethal. Lucan treaded carefully.
“Long day? Let’s eat. I made—”
“I don’t get it.” She cut him off, frustration raw. “My students—adults!—can’t solve basic problems. They call me incompetent!”
Lucan stifled a laugh, pulling out her chair.
“They’re just… enthusiastic. Means they admire you.”
Olivia snorted. “They’ll ruin my academic reputation.”
As Lucan served soup, the bell on his collar chimed. Olivia’s gaze lingered—his neck, his eyes, the absurd costume.
A sudden urge gripped her: She wanted to ruffle his hair.
Panicking, she snapped, “You forgot the ears. Fetch the cat ears from the closet.”
Unbelievable.
While “adjusting” the ears, Olivia finally touched his hair. Soft. Satisfied, she softened.
“Your exams are soon. I’ll tutor you after dinner.”
Lucan blinked, rice halfway to his mouth.
“Uh… Me?”
Is this maternal instinct? Or just another whim?
He shrugged. Better to appease her. Her true madness always surfaced at night.
- Writer
