Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle - Chapter 153: Chapter 153

Someone blurted out in disbelief, "His wife? Is he joking?" Eugene is the guy every woman in Auretian dreamt about. Nobody got the news that he got married.
Someone chimed in, "Wasn't this woman married to Stephen?"
"Wait, wasn't it her younger sister, Elsie, who married Stephen?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, seems so." They were all confused.
Surprise flickered in Ian's violet eyes, and then a fire kindled within them—a clear warning. His voice edged with steel as he said, "Eugene, you must be mis." Norah was the only woman who could ever be his wife.
Eugene stepped onto the last step, meeting Ian eye-to-eye with an unreadable expression. "Quite an interesting party, Mr. Pedler. But Lorraine isn't much of a night owl.
"At this hour, she should be having her warm milk and getting ready for bed. We won't overstay our welcome."
Ian didn't know how to reply.
Eugene turned, reached out, and cupped Lorraine's face in his right palm. After confirming her temperature was normal, he was eased a little.
Eugene reached out with his left hand, his long fingers carefully wiping away Lorraine's tears and smudged makeup, revealing her delicate face. With a tender smile, he said softly, "There now.
"After our little tiff, you came to Mr. Pedler's party to make a scene, even played hide-and-seek thinking I wouldn't find you. Well, I've found you.
"So, Lorraine, ready to come home with me now?" His expression was solemn, and though his voice was low, it carried clearly to everyone in the room.
Everyone was thinking the same thing. 'Wait, they are real husband and wife. Then what's with all those online rumors calling this woman a homewrecker? What's that supposed to mean?'
Lorraine froze in his arms, staring up at him with dazed confusion, not knowing what he was doing.
Eugene bent down, gently untied the ribbons holding Lorraine, and then effortlessly drew her into his embrace. With a soft, indulgent smile, he murmured, "You little troublemaker."
His gestures were intimate, his tone dripping with affection—yet it all felt utterly natural as if they were meant to stand together like this.
The crowd below was even more dumbfounded. This intimacy couldn't possibly be faked, nor could such effortless chemistry develop overnight.
Ian's gentle smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and his gaze turned icy. "Mr. Moore, I must have missed the announcement—when exactly did you get married?"
"While you were unaware," Eugene replied coolly.
Lorraine thought, 'I have no idea either. I really, truly don't know what's going on. Why would he suddenly claim I'm his wife? That's just impossible.' Before Lorraine could react, Eugene had already swept her up in a bridal carry.
"Hold on to me," Eugene murmured to Lorraine in his arms.
"Okay," Lorraine murmured. She complied, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. With her face buried in Eugene's chest, she listened to the steady, powerful beat of his heart. At that moment, she finally felt safe.
With Lorraine securely cradled in his arms, Eugene descended the stairs with steady steps and made his way toward the door. Someone murmured respectfully, "Take care, Mr. Moore."
Although the Pedler family is not to be trifled with, in Auretian, Eugene stands above them all—he's the one they absolutely couldn't afford to offend.
Suddenly, Eugene stopped in his tracks, spun around, and declared, "This is Mrs. Moore. Only fools would believe the rumors online."
The crowd was stunned, and some women couldn't help but gaze enviously at Lorraine. 'How unbelievably lucky she is to be Eugene's wife.'
"Take care, Mrs. Moore," Someone else quickly added with utmost deference, their attitude doing a complete reversal.
With only half her face visible, Lorraine watched the crowd—expressions shifting effortlessly like masks. She felt nothing but contempt for their hypocrisy.
With an icy glare that swept over each of their faces, Eugene tightened his hold around Lorraine and strode out of the villa.
Nestled in Eugene's arms, Lorraine didn't need to say or do anything. His mere presence had already restored her nearly shattered dignity. But Lorraine was still confused as to why Eugene declared her his wife in front of everyone and Ian.
Even though this was fake, Lorraine had just seen someone taking photos. Norah is bound to know this. Lorraine thought to herself, 'How will the Pedlers react?'
Her fingers unconsciously clutched the front of Eugene's shirt. In a soft, uncertain voice, Lorraine murmured, "Eugene..."
"Do you want to say thank you, or sorry?" Eugene interrupted her.
Lorraine swallowed back the words that were on the tip of her tongue. 'How did he know what I was about to say?' Lorraine thought, bewildered.
Eugene carried her to the car, opened the door, and gently settled her into the passenger seat. Instead of leaving right away, he pulled out his phone and pressed it into her hand. "Take a photo," he said.
Lorraine blinked. "What photo?" She didn't understand.
Eugene switched his phone camera to portrait mode, pointed the camera at himself and Lorraine, and said, "Take the shot."
"For a keepsake?" Lorraine frowned. She looked like a total mess—like a squished dinner roll—and he wanted to take a photo. 'Is he just messing with me?'
"Just do it," Eugene insisted.
"At least let me freshen up."
"Do it now."
Lorraine reluctantly pressed the shutter button. With a click, both their faces were squished together on the screen.
He remained as poised as ever, while she looked like a scruffy stray he'd just scooped up from the curb.
Eugene scrutinized the photo and remarked, "Absolutely hideous."
'Seriously? He knows I look awful and still wants a photo?' Lorraine thought.
Eugene let out a slight sigh, and then gently massaged the corners of Lorraine's lips with his fingers. Finally, using both index fingers, he carefully lifted her lips into a smile. "There," he said softly, "now give me a smile like this."
Lorraine sulked. "You can't just force a smile. I can't possibly smile right now."
"Not even a little smile?"
"I don't want to smile," Lorraine pouted, puffing out her cheeks like a chipmunk with its mouth full of nuts.
"This photo matters. You'll regret it if you don't smile."
"How important could it be?" Lorraine couldn't care less.
"Lorraine," Eugene said while he suddenly leaned in, closing the distance between them. A mischievous glint flashed in his dark eyes as he leaned in, his breath warmed against Lorraine's skin, making her freeze. Eugene continued, "Smile for me. You look prettier that way."
Lorraine's cheeks instantly flushed crimson at his words. 'Did he say I'm pretty?' she thought, her heart pounding, like a little drum in her chest that just wouldn't stop. She bit her lip, a faint blush blooming across her cheeks.
She stole a shy glance at the front rearview mirror. Most of her makeup had already been wiped off. After all that crying, her eyeliner was smeared into ridiculous caterpillar streaks—more terrifying than tribal war paint.
'Seriously? This is what he called pretty?' Lorraine thought, 'He's just messing with me.'
"Come on, smile for me," Eugene said as he took the phone, pressed her head closer to his, and captured the shot. Lorraine didn't resist.
Eugene glanced at the photo, deemed it acceptable, and handed the phone back to her. "Send this to Isaac. He'll know what to do with it."
'What did he mean? Does he want to share it with his assistant for laughs? This is outrageous! He's gone too far this time.' Lorraine fumed inwardly.
She gritted her teeth, stabbing at the screen with her finger as if she could poke a hole right through it.
Eugene settled back into the driver's seat. Seeing her quietly sulk in that adorably childish way, he felt relieved. Finally, she stopped crying. 'Good, she's stopped crying,' Eugene thought to himself.
Eugene started the car and drove steadily toward the hospital. Glancing over at Lorraine, he gently prompted, "Did you send it yet?"
"Yes," Lorraine, cheeks puffed in annoyance, gave the phone back to Eugene and refused to say another word.
However, a faint smile played on Eugene's lips, as if he were lost in thought. Eugene turned on the heater and put on some soft music. Lorraine curled up in her seat, hugging herself, and at last, the chill began to fade from her bones.
Soon after they arrived, Eugene unbuckled his seatbelt and said, "Come on out. Let Lorenzo check you over."
"I'm fine, really," Lorraine said.
"You're getting checked anyway," Eugene insisted. He pushed open the car door stepped out, and walked Lorraine's side. Without giving her a chance to protest, he pulled her out.
Lorenzo had been standing guard at the entrance, on high alert. When he saw Lorraine return, relatively lucid, he immediately let out a sigh of relief. "Lorraine, come with me," he said.
Lorraine glanced at Eugene, who gently stroked her hair. "Be good and go get checked up. I'll be right here waiting—won't budge an inch."
At Eugene's words, a spark of light instantly appeared in her eyes. She nodded trustingly and followed Lorenzo into the examination room.
Eugene remained planted by the doorway, refusing to leave her side for even a second. He pulled out his phone and checked—sure enough, there was a message from Isaac. [Mr. Moore, I've received the photo. Shall I proceed tonight?]
Without hesitation, Eugene replied, [Yes.] Then he casually browsed the web—All the malicious posts slandering Lorraine vanished within an hour, replaced by photos of Eugene carrying her out of the villa.
Front-page headlines declared them married. It was as if these media outlets had completely forgotten how they'd previously dragged Lorraine through the mud. Now, in their eyes, she was the revered and untouchable Mrs. Moore—someone far beyond their reach to offend. Just as he expected.
Eugene scrolled through the news with a composed expression. Just then, his phone rang.
Sheila called, her voice anxious, "Eugene, did you find Lorraine?" Sheila had seen the news.
"Yes," Eugene replied.
"Is she okay? Was she hurt?" Sheila asked anxiously.
"She's getting a check at the hospital right now, but she's in good spirits. You don't need to worry."
Sheila breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright, wait for me at the hospital—I'll be there soon."
Eugene checked his watch and said, "It's already so late—there's no need for you to come over. I'll take her straight home to rest soon. If you're free tomorrow, you can visit the palatial stone manor and keep her company for a while."
"No way," Sheila insisted firmly. "Just wait for us—we're almost there. There's someone I want you to meet."
"Who?" Eugene arched a brow.
"You'll understand when you see her. You must see her. We'll be there in ten minutes."