Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle - Chapter 155: Chapter 155

Sheila rattled off an order for twenty or so dishes in one go. Lorenzo gave Sheila a fond yet exasperated look. "You've ordered so much, and now you're having braised pork intestines here in the hospital? Can you handle all that?"
"With a clear conscience, I could eat a feast even in the morgue," Sheila declared with unshakable composure.
Shirin piped up, raising her hand eagerly. "Me too. I'll eat anything, anywhere."
Lorenzo borrowed a small square table from the nurses' station and set it up in the middle of the lounge. He grabbed a few cushions. With limited options, everyone ended up sitting on the floor. But somehow, this had its unique charm.
Woody was already knocked out in the corner, and the other three girls—Sheila, Shirin, and Lorraine—showed no intention of sharing with her as they quickly claimed the table for themselves. Sheila's phone rang before the takeout arrived. It was Ethan, the department chair.
She rolled her eyes before picking up. "Hello, Mr. Lam."
Ethan asked, "Sheila, is Lorraine with you by any chance?" His tone had become markedly more cautious than before.
Sheila replied, "Yes." Sheila handed the phone to Lorraine. "It's Ethan."
Lorraine held the phone to her ear as Ethan's voice came across, noticeably more eager to please. "Lorraine, my deepest apologies.
"I didn't know about your relationship with Eugene, so the school issued an expulsion notice this afternoon, addressed to your father. If you receive it, just pretend it never existed."
Lorraine rolled her eyes in utter disbelief. 'Pretend I never got it? Seriously, what kind of nonsense is that?' Lorraine thought. 'If the Shaws find out, they'll stir up trouble again. Especially Elsie.'
Still apologizing, Ethan continued in an eager-to-please tone, "Lorraine, if you need anything, we can guarantee you admission to our graduate program, or even arrange a faculty position for you here after graduation if you want."
Lorraine suddenly thought she was like a sly little fox, who was assuming the majesty of the tiger. And this tiger was of course Eugene. 'Honestly, it feels damn good.' Lorraine cleared her throat. "That won't be necessary. Is there anything else you need?"
"That's all, then. I won't keep you from resting. Whenever you have time, feel free to come back. We'd love to have you attend classes or even mentor our students." Ethan said warmly.
'What could I possibly mentor? I'm still just a student.' Lorraine thought sarcastically. 'Sure enough, this society judges people by their connections. Too bad I don't have any real social capital myself.
'To me, Eugene is just a dream in the distance, but to those social climbers, he's mis for my powerful backing. That's why they're suddenly so obsequious.'
Lorraine pursed her lips, ended the call, and handed the phone back to Sheila. They had all heard their conversation.
Sheila was beside herself with laughter. "What a shameless hypocrite. And he calls himself an educator? Sucking up to the powerful and stepping on the weak. How despicable!"
"Looks like Eugene's fake marriage with you is paying off," Shirin said with a playful shake of her head. "It's brilliant. I'm growing more and more impressed with him."
Lorraine pressed her tongue against her teeth and stayed silent. She Lorraine thought, 'It is brilliant. While it saved me, it might end up hurting him. I have no idea what Eugene's thinking, or how this whole thing might affect him.'
There was a knock at the lounge door. The delivery guy came in, set all the takeout containers on the table, got some tips from Sheila, and then left.
The takeout from the five-star hotel was naturally a feast for the senses—perfect in appearance, aroma, and flavor. Shirin was practically drooling, eyeing the roast squab with wolfish anticipation. "When can we start eating?" she asked eagerly.
Eugene walked in from outside; his left hand casually tucked in his trench coat pocket as he strolled over to them. "Midnight snack?"
"Yeah." Shirin chirped. Lorraine remembered that Eugene never ate after 8 p.m., so after a moment's thought, she decided to bow out as well. She stood up and said, "You guys go ahead. I'm heading out."
"Since it's already ordered, why not have a taste?" Eugene strode gracefully over to a cabinet in the lounge and swung open the door, exposing Lorenzo's secret stash—several bottles of top-shelf Lafite.
Lorenzo smacked his forehead dramatically. "Come on, that was meant for my dad!"
Eugene ignored him completely. "Grab some glasses—we're celebrating."
"What are we celebrating?" Lorraine asked, baffled. 'For saving me?' Lorraine wondered.
Shirin scooted closer and whispered, "Lorraine, he is acting weird tonight."
Of course, Lorraine noticed it. Eugene seemed to be in high spirits, so she wasn't about to rain on his parade.
Shirin eagerly scooted over to make room for her idolized CEO, Eugene. Eugene also took his seat without ceremony.
With one hand holding the wine bottle and the other gripping the corkscrew, he applied precise pressure with elegant finesse. In no time, the cork came free.
Lorenzo went out and grabbed a few disposable paper cups, and laid them on the table.
Eugene poured the Lafite, placing a cup before each person.
"Lorraine," Sheila raised her cup first. "I don't care about celebrating anything. I just want you to stay safe and sound, and be by my side till we're old and gray." By the end, her voice choked with emotion.
Touched by Sheila's words, Lorraine quickly raised her cup and gently clinked it against Sheila's.
Shirin chimed in eagerly, leaning in with her round face beaming. "Me too."
Sheila said gently, "Alright, let's all take care of ourselves and stay well, okay?" Sheila took her cup back and took a small sip. The other two girls, Shirin and Lorraine, also took small sips.
Lorenzo was stunned by how quickly everyone slipped into party mode. He thought to himself, 'So Eugene and I are just extras now?' Like hell that's happening.'
Lorenzo shot a glance at Eugene—but the man didn't even spare him a look. His gaze was glued to Lorraine as if no one else in the world mattered.
Eugene's hand rests on Lorraine's waist, his fingertips slowly caressing the curve of her slender waistline. The tingling sensation made her skin prickle, a persistent itch she just couldn't escape. She turned to meet his gaze, a subtle light shining in her clear eyes.
She wasn't much of a drinker. Just one sip, and her cheeks flushed, while her lips glistened with moisture. Eugene's gaze darkened. He swallowed hard but remained silent.
Lorenzo quickly raised his cup. "Since we're all here today, let's make another toast—may all lovers find their happiness ever after!" After saying this, he gave Sheila, who was beside him, a meaningful look.
Sheila, on the other hand, was eyeing the plate of shrimp, wondering if she should have one. Lorenzo felt a little defeated.
Shirin pressed a paper cup into Sheila's hand. "Come on, Sheila, bottoms up." 'This wine tastes amazing,' Shirin thought. 'Premium Lafite is in a class of its own.'
Lorraine, a little drunk, reached out to clink cups with them. But just as she was about to bring the cup to her lips, Eugene swiftly took it right out of her hand.
His slender fingers cradled the paper cup, deep crimson wine in it—a vision of striking elegance. Eugene took the cup from Lorraine, deliberately drinking from the exact spot her lips had touched, and finished the wine for her.
Lorraine blinked and softly protested, "Hey, that was mine."
"You shouldn't drink now," Eugene said calmly, setting the cup down. "That small sip was enough." His gaze dropped, glancing briefly at her flat stomach. His arm around her tightened slightly, pulling her even closer. Lorraine was practically sitting in his lap.
Shirin shot them a cheeky, knowing grin, and then deliberately looked away, pretending not to notice a thing.
Sheila, long accustomed to such displays, took a sip of her wine and set the cup down. Seizing the moment, Lorenzo quickly topped off Sheila's drink. Sheila eyed Lorenzo suspiciously. 'What's with the waiter act?' she thought. 'He's being way too attentive.'
Lorenzo gave her a gentle nudge and said with a playful smile, "Don't look at me like that. You like it, don't you?"
Sheila stared fixedly at him for several seconds without blinking. Though her cheeks were flushed pink, her gaze remained sober and sharp.
Lorenzo felt a pang of unease under Sheila's steady gaze, but he forced a smile—one so practiced it appeared gentle and refined.
Sheila shot Lorenzo a sharp look and quipped, "What, are you trying to get me drunk so you can take me to bed?"
Shirin nearly choked on a chicken bone, coughing in surprise. Lorraine felt awkward.
Eugene picked up a piece of lemon butter fish and placed it on Lorraine's plate. "Have a bite. Want some vinaigrette with that?"
Lorenzo's face shifted through complicated expressions—a dizzying array that finally settled into uneasy composure. He stammered, "No way. What are you thinking? I'd never think that."
"Good, better not," Sheila snorted, lifting her cup for a delicate sip to distract people's attention from the faint blush creeping up her ears.
Lorenzo suddenly quipped with a smirk, "Honestly, I just hoped that if you got a little tipsy, you'd have a chance to check out my measurements."
Sheila couldn't believe what he had said.
Shirin was completely choked, frozen in her seat. She felt she was the world's brightest third wheel, feeling a little lonely sitting with two couples.
Lorraine had always known Lorenzo was all serious in public but a total bastard in private—she just never imagined he'd say something like that.
An awkward silence fell over everyone. Only Eugene seemed oblivious to the conversation, quietly peeling a shrimp for Lorraine and placing it on the small plate in front of her. "Try this," he said.
"Thanks," Lorraine murmured absently, picking up the shrimp and popping it into her mouth. It was fresh, plump, and sweet.
The other three—Shirin, Sheila, and Lorraine—sat frozen in awkward silence. They were all friends, and Lorraine wanted to ease the tension, but she didn't know what to do. So, all she could do was awkwardly steer the conversation back to herself.
After a moment's thought, Lorraine scratched her head, forced out a couple of awkward chuckles, then turned to Eugene and asked stiffly, "So, you said we were celebrating—what exactly are we celebrating?"
The other three finally felt a bit more at ease—otherwise, the awkwardness was too overwhelming.
Eugene heard her question and lifted his gaze to meet hers with quiet composure. He reached for a tissue from the table and, with deliberate care, began to wipe his hands. He meticulously cleaned each finger, even though they were already spotless.
There was an almost ceremonial solemnity to his movements. Then they watched as he reached into the left-hand pocket of his trench coat. In full view of everyone, Eugene reached into his pocket—where he'd been holding something for a while—and produced two crimson marriage certificates.
He unfolded them and laid them out on the table for everyone to see.