Drake let out a helpless sigh, plucked a grape from the table, and took a delicate bite.
He clapped Lucas on the shoulder.
"So, what are you planning to do about Beauty?
You're not seriously going to make her Mrs. Marson, are you?"
Lucas rose to his feet, a smirk playing on his lips.
"She's already mine.
I have to take responsibility for her."
Drake spat out his tea in shock, hastily grabbing a handkerchief from his bag to wipe his face.
His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he gaped at Lucas.
"Wait—are you for real? Did I hear that right?
The great Lucas actually wants to take responsibility for a woman?
Ever since Amelia left, you've been living like a monk!
Countless women have thrown themselves at you, and even when you were wasted, you never so much as touched one.
And now, out of the blue, you're ready to commit?
I thought you'd stay celibate for the rest of your life, but some little girl has you wrapped around her finger just like that?"
