The CEO's Ugly Wife

Chapter 3

Nothing about Lucas’s wedding whispered subtlety—it shouted luxury from every corner, drenched in diamonds and power.

A hundred-million-dollar gown, laced with over 400,000 diamonds and pearls, was the crown jewel of the ceremony. Chloe had fantasized about walking down the aisle in it for as long as she could remember. Aware of the enormous difference between the Jones family and the Evans family, Kiara and Darin had gone to great lengths to maintain appearances. They’d put together five hundred million dollars as a wedding gift, aiming to marry Chloe off in a grand spectacle that would leave the entire city in awe.

But in the end, every bit of it went to Lana.

The wedding dress, air-shipped straight from a well-known gown brand overseas, now rested on Lana’s body. Kiara, Darin, and Chloe could only watch as everything they’d sacrificed for sparkled on the wrong girl—rage nearly knocking them off their feet.

Lana could barely hold back her laughter, but with Lucas standing right next to her, she bit it back and kept her expression neutral. There was no mistaking Lucas ’s reputation—dangerous, decisive, and impossible to predict. She knew better than to get careless. She still had no clue how she became his wife, but she needed answers—and fast.

A swarm of reporters buzzed outside the Jones family’s mansion, hungry for any c***k in the story. Instead of feeding the frenzy, Lucas avoided the car altogether and flew off with Lana in a private helicopter.

Tears streamed down Chloe’s face as the helicopter disappeared into the clouds. “Mom, is my dream of becoming the wife of the wealthiest man truly gone?”

“Absolutely not!” Kiara’s voice dripped with venom as she said, “Lucas won’t tolerate being trapped like this. Lana was shoved into his life. Who knows? She might not even make it through tonight.”

A spark flickered behind Chloe’s tears. “You think he’d actually get rid of her?”

Kiara gave a cold smile. “Once Lana’s no longer in the picture, Lucas will definitely come back to you. Just hold on to your place as Massey’s top socialite. You’ll be his wife eventually.”

Since even those two morons, Kiara and Chloe, had imagined Lucas might arrange a widower scenario, Lana, with her sharp mind, had certainly considered that possibility.

Even though Lana had never seen Lucas in person until today, she had heard every tale. People described him as cold-blooded, even cruel. He was the kind of man who crushed anyone who dared stand in his way. Those who did either vanished or ended up wishing they had never tried. She had no plans to test a man like that.

Lana kept her head down throughout the entire ceremony. Once they stepped into the bedroom, she sank onto the edge of the bed and stayed silent.

Across the room, Lucas slipped off his jacket and dropped onto the couch. His eyes locked on her—intense, clinical, like he could read her thoughts with one glance.

Hours ago, she had looked like a wreck—smudged eyeliner, tangled hair, makeup that aged her ten years. But now, beneath the soft veil concealing her face, she looked ethereal in the glittering gown. Her skin glowed, her figure delicate and composed. She was stunning.

Lana had her own legend, dark and twisted. At five, they said she had lit the fire that killed her mother and melted her own face. Some called her cursed. Others called her a murderer. Either way, no one saw innocence when they looked at her.

They had labeled her dumb and called her ugly, but Lucas saw none of that. Her eyes—sharp, sly, and full of light—gave her away. She wasn’t clueless. She was shrewd. Whatever her game was, she played it well. When Chloe lunged at her earlier, Lana had slipped behind him with uncanny ease. Others might have dismissed it as instinct, but he caught the control in her footwork. That kind of precision didn’t come from fear—it came from training.

But all that finesse meant nothing to him compared to the one thing that did matter—how his name got locked in with hers in a marriage. Someone had pulled strings behind the curtain. Why? What did they stand to gain? And was Lana really as innocent as she played?

“You had no trouble talking earlier. Why so quiet now?” Lucas’s tone sliced through the quiet like glass.

Lana stiffened, a chill rushing up her spine before she could stop it. “It’s not like I planned to marry up… I just can’t shake this bit of unease.”

Living under the Evans family household came with rules, and Lana understood that fast. A gentle smile here, the right words there—it could be the difference between survival and disaster. A dry chuckle slipped past Lucas’s lips. She was putting on a show, and he wasn’t buying a second of it. Earlier, she’d called him “darling” in front of Chloe like it was the most natural thing in the world.

There hadn’t been a hint of unease in her voice. He would just wait to see how long she could keep up the charade.

Lana knew he didn’t believe her. She didn’t expect him to. She just needed to avoid giving him a reason to strike.

She was still running through her next move in her head when Lucas rose without warning and crossed the room with unhurried, deliberate steps.

Without a word, he leaned down and swept her into his arms before she had the chance to flinch.

Being swept into his arms like a bride out of a fairytale made her heart lurch. “Mr. Evans, what… What are you doing?”

Lucas glanced down at her, a sly smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Tell me—what do you suppose newlyweds ought to be doing on their wedding night?”

Everything tilted as he tossed her onto the bed, his body closing the space between them like a storm cloud rolling in.

The mattress bounced beneath her, his scent surrounding her completely, and she went still. With her horrible wig and makeup, was Lucas seriously able to go through with it?