Chapter 125: Evidence Erased

The sound of the doorbell rang sharply, cutting through the stillness of the house. Lucas Zeller, who was in the kitchen, darted to the door like an arrow loosed from a bow. His hand hovered over the doorknob as he paused, taking a moment to compose himself. Clearing his throat, he brushed back his tousled hair and adjusted his stance, ensuring every aspect of his appearance radiated the confident, charismatic air he was known for. Only when he was satisfied that his image of effortless charm was intact did he finally twist the knob and open the door. A dazzling, practiced smile graced his face.

But that smile froze almost instantly. His lips twisted into a sharp sneer, and his obsidian-black eyes narrowed dangerously, emitting a frosty glare. Standing at the threshold were Claire Grace and Blaine Jackson, shoulder to shoulder, appearing far too comfortable in each other's company. Lucas's gaze flickered with icy precision, as though he could sever the connection between them with sheer will. He silently wished he could erase Blaine from existence entirely.

Claire instinctively shrank back under Lucas's frigid stare, her slender shoulders trembling slightly as if considering an escape route. Blaine, however, seemed entirely unfazed. He leaned slightly more on Claire, feigning a cough that was conveniently timed and deliberately exaggerated.

"Claire," Blaine said weakly, his voice soft with supposed exhaustion, "you should go inside. I've brought you home safely, but my throat… it's been acting up badly. Perhaps you could write down that recipe for the honey-ginger tea you mentioned? I'll make it myself at home... wouldn't want to trouble you any further."

Claire blinked, utterly baffled. *Honey-ginger tea? When did I ever promise to make that for him?* Then it hit her—this was Blaine's excuse to worm his way inside and stay for dinner. She cast a worried glance at Lucas, whose face had darkened ominously. His expression was as foreboding as a thunderstorm.

"Snail Girl," Lucas suddenly snapped, using his favorite nickname for Claire, "are you seriously letting a strange man lean on you like that? Have you lost your mind?"

"Strange man?" Claire looked around in confusion before realizing Lucas meant Blaine. "Lucas, Blaine isn't a stranger—he's my boss."

"Your *boss*?" Lucas repeated mockingly. "And what, exactly, are you doing bringing your boss home after hours?"

Claire hesitated, feeling cornered. "He… he's sick, and he's all alone. His family is in France, so I thought I'd—" She faltered under Lucas's intense glare. "Make him some tea…"

Lucas arched a skeptical brow. "Sick? Really? He looks full of energy to me."

"...Cough, cough!" Blaine hacked theatrically, clutching his chest for good measure. Claire glanced at him, now unsure if he was faking or genuinely choking on something.

"Lucas, is that Claire?" Blaire Zeller's voice called cheerily from the living room.

Lucas gritted his teeth and shot Blaine another warning look. The man responded with a bright smile, utterly immune to Lucas's hostility.

"Hmph. Thick-skinned as ever," Lucas muttered under his breath before turning sharply to Claire. "What are you waiting for? Go wash your hands and get ready for dinner!" He stormed back inside without waiting for a response.

Claire and Blaine exchanged a glance. Blaine raised an eyebrow and grinned as if he'd won some unspoken challenge. Claire sighed and stepped inside, resigning herself to whatever chaos would follow.

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### The Dinner Table Standoff

Dinner that evening was nothing short of tense. Claire sat beside Lucas, while Blaine and Blaire occupied the opposite side of the table. Lucas could feel something was off but couldn't pinpoint what. His gaze darted to Blaine, who was about to reach for a dish near Claire. Before he could, Claire scooped a generous portion onto her chopsticks and placed it neatly on Blaine's plate.

*There it is,* Lucas thought, his irritation spiking. *They're sitting across from each other—perfect for sneaky exchanges, secret foot taps under the table, and shared glances over the food.* He could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Snail Girl," Lucas said abruptly, rising to his feet, "switch seats with me." Without waiting for her agreement, he grabbed Claire's sleeve and gestured for her to move.

"Huh? Lucas, why—?"

"I like it better this way." His sharp tone cut off any protest. He shot Blaine a glare, as if daring him to challenge the seating arrangement.

Blaine, of course, wasn't one to back down. "You're really obvious, Lucas," he teased lightly. "This much jealousy over dinner? It's enough to ruin anyone's appetite."

Lucas's jaw tightened. "Who said I'm jealous?"

Blaine smirked. "Anyone with eyes can see it."

"Anyone who sees that must need their eyes checked," Lucas snapped, stabbing at his food as if it had personally offended him.

Blaire, meanwhile, had been silently observing the drama unfold. Her big, curious eyes darted between the three adults. Finally, she couldn't hold back. "You two argue so much; do you even realize how awkward you're making dinner?"

Her bluntness caught everyone off guard. Blaine chuckled, clearly entertained, while Lucas looked mortified. Claire just lowered her head, wishing she could vanish.

"Relax, Blaire," Blaine said smoothly, his tone lighthearted. "I just enjoy a good debate. Helps the appetite, don't you think?" He took another bite, chewing contentedly.

Lucas glowered. "You're here to eat, not to stir up trouble."

"And yet," Blaire chimed in slyly, "he's doing both."

Blaine's smirk grew wider. Clearly, Lucas wasn't going to win this round—not with Blaine's provocations and Blaire's sharp tongue in the mix. Lucas could only simmer in his frustration, his mood as dark as ever.

As for Claire, she could feel the weight of Lucas's silent brooding beside her, making it impossible to focus on her own meal. Whatever Blaine's true motives for showing up tonight, one thing was clear—Lucas wasn't going to let him off easy.