Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle - Chapter 156: Chapter 156

The crimson marriage certificate, with its gilded lettering, was so dazzling it was practically blinding. The others gasped sharply. Even Lorenzo, normally unflappable, looked genuinely startled as he cast Eugene a glance filled with complex emotions.
Lorraine stood rooted to the spot, her gaze darting between the faces in the marriage certificate photo and Eugene himself. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She pinched her thigh hard, wincing at the sharp pain—only then realizing she was still very awake.
'This is not a dream,' she thought. When Eugene opened the marriage certificate, Lorraine felt her heart pounding so wildly that it was as if her very soul had left her body.
Eugene, thinking Lorraine hadn't seen it clearly, pushed the marriage certificate closer, hoping she would notice the official embossed seal.
The others instinctively fell silent, holding their breath to give the two of them space in this pivotal moment.
Lorraine stood frozen for a long moment, staring at the awkward yet endearing photo of herself. "You..."
"Yes," Eugene replied softly, gently taking her small hand and interlacing their fingers.
"Just as I thought..." Lorraine took several shaky breaths, struggling to contain the fluttering in her chest. "You took this photo just to mess with me."
Eugene's arm stiffened abruptly. "What?"
Lorraine finally figured it out. 'This is the photo he asked me to take not long ago, so this marriage certificate...'
She paused, then looked up at Eugene and asked, "Where did you get this fake certificate made? It even has an embossed seal—it looks so real."
Eugene opened his eyes wide.
As if released from a spell, the others snapped out of their daze and crowded around, staring intently at the marriage certificates.
Shirin suddenly exclaimed, "I once secretly peeked at my cousin's marriage certificate. This one is fake, yet so authentic."
"Really?" Sheila picked one up between her fingers. "It even has some weight to it."
"Let me feel it." Before Eugene could stop her, Shirin's chubby fingers—still greasy from grabbing a chicken drumstick—had already snatched the certificate, leaving a big, shiny greasy fingerprint on it.
"It does look real. Whoever made this fake is seriously skilled. Boss, do you have the man's number? Give it to me—I'd spend my last penny just to get a fake diploma."
Eugene fell silent. His icy gaze fixed on the greasy fingerprint marring the marriage certificate, his expression darkening imperceptibly.
Eugene said, "With this certificate, you'll have an easier time explaining things to the school tomorrow. No need to panic."
"Got it." Lorraine put the certificate away. "Thank you, Eugene." Even though the photo wasn't flattering, she could live with it—after all, he went through all this trouble to get a fake certificate just for her. That's Eugene for you—always so thorough.
Eugene shook his head silently.
Lorraine misunderstood, and then gratefully placed a piece of lamb chop on his plate. "Here," she said.
'How am I supposed to eat now?' Eugene thought. He was so angry that he'd lost his appetite. He didn't blame her for not seeing things clearly—she was still young, after all, and it was only natural that her perspective was limited.
Nor did he blame her for being slow; from the very beginning, he'd always known she wasn't the brightest.
He understood her damn well. He knew exactly why she thought the certificate was fake—because she had never truly believed he would take responsibility for her to this extent, and never imagined she could stay by his side for good.
The bitter truth hit him: even though he should be the one with the right to end this relationship, the one who could walk away at any moment was her. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be the passive one.
Frustration clenched his chest, each breath coming ragged and hot. Everyone else remained oblivious, with Sheila and Shirin even giving him a thumbs-up for his "quick thinking."
Eugene, seething with suppressed rage he couldn't vent, viciously stabbed his fork into the lamb chop and bit down hard. With a forceful crunch, he bit too hard. He split his lip. Blood immediately welled up.
Lorraine froze in shock. "What's wrong with you?"'Seriously, it's just a lamb chop. Why did you bite that hard?' she thought.
Lorenzo hurriedly stood up. "Eugene, let me get that looked at." The cuts inside and around his mouth needed treatment—they could get infected. Since he was already at the hospital, there was no reason for Lorenzo not to treat him.
Eugene rose, shot Lorraine a hard look, and then followed Lorenzo out. The door swung shut with a decisive click.
Sheila and Shirin leaned in together. "Try this chicken, it's quite flavorful," Sheila said.
"Really? Pairs well with red wine," Shirin replied.
Lorraine didn't join their conversation. Instead, she quietly reached into her pocket and felt the certificate. She pursed her lips, stood up, and slowly walked over to the lounge window, took the pair of marriage certificates, and unfolded them.
Under the light, she examined them carefully. Lorraine Shaw. Eugene Moore. Their names were written side by side. She reached out with her fingertip, slowly tracing over his name, stroke by stroke as if outlining the chiseled lines of his face.
When she saw the marriage certificates, her breath nearly stopped. For an instant, her whole world shrank to this one certificate—there was nothing left but the two of them. She couldn't see anything else.
She had always believed that as people grew up, their world would become bigger. But just now, she realized the world could be so small—so small that a single marriage certificate could fill her heart to the brim.
It was as if he belonged to her, even if just for a moment.
For that brief instant, she nearly believed it—believed that he was hers. Lorraine lowered her head and carefully pressed the fake marriage certificate on her chest.
The idea that he belonged to her made her so happy that she felt she could float, even if it lasted only a fleeting moment.
The door opened behind her. Lorraine quickly tucked the certificates away into her pocket. Eugene walked up to her expressionlessly, his wound treated with an antiseptic solution. Lorraine still looked slightly dazed.
"Let's go," Eugene said.
"Okay," Lorraine murmured, snapping back to reality and following behind him.
Shirin quickly offered the plate of roast squab. "Boss, we saved it for you—want to take them for the road?"
Eugene glanced at her greasy hands, averted his gaze, and strode straight out the door.
Shirin was confused. 'The atmosphere was so good just now. Why does it suddenly feel off?' she wondered.
The streets were nearly deserted at midnight, streetlights glowing like floating pearls suspended in the darkness. Eugene pulled over just outside Antiquity Lane. He took steady, measured steps, slowly making his way toward the entrance of the alley.
Lorraine followed close behind, completely enveloped in his shadow, her gaze fixed on his tall, tense back. She didn't dare say a word, afraid that anything she said might only make him more upset.
A man on a bicycle approached, its clear bell jingling through the quiet night. As the bicycle jolted over a protruding stone, the bell paused for a second.
Before Lorraine could react, Eugene had already pulled her into his embrace, shielding her. His crisp, warm scent enveloped her, warding off the chilly autumn breeze. With his back to the bicycle, Eugene waited until it passed before letting her go.
Lorraine remained silent while he kept walking. She just trailed after him. She racked her brains, but still couldn't figure out what she did to upset him tonight. She didn't do anything.
Frustrated, Lorraine tugged at her hair as they reached the entrance of the palatial stone manor.
Eugene reached out, opened the door, and stole a glance back at her—her hair was a complete bird's nest from all her anxious tugging. Withdrawing his gaze, he stepped inside.
Lorraine, lost in thought, nearly tripped over the threshold as she walked in. Eugene spun around and caught her just in time. Annoyed, he blamed, "Clumsy." But he didn't let her go. His arms stayed around her. She ducked her head and fell silent.
Eugene sighed inwardly, his tone softening. "What's wrong? Can't even walk properly?"
"Did I do something wrong?" she whispered. 'That must be why you're so upset,' Lorraine thought. She clutched the front of his handmade shirt, wrinkling the fine fabric. Her nervousness was palpable.
Eugene fell silent. After a moment of silence, he gently patted her on the head. "You didn't do anything wrong. Go take a shower and get some rest."
"Really?" She seemed unconvinced and kept asking for confirmation.
He had to nod to comfort her.
Only after repeatedly getting the same answer did Lorraine finally ease her anxious heart. She quickly slid off him, hurried through the palatial stone manor, and disappeared into the bathroom.
The rush of water from the bathroom only fanned the flames inside Eugene, making his frustration burn even hotter. Yet he couldn't put any of it into words—it was like riding a rollercoaster, his emotions surging up and down.
There was no way to express it. His heart lurched with every twist and turn. He couldn't help himself—he wanted her so badly. Giving in, he stripped off his clothes and squeezed into the shower with her.
Lorraine was just squeezing out some body wash, barely working up a lather, when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She shivered. "Eugene?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
These past few days, he'd been insatiable, keeping her close and never letting her leave his side. She only managed to fall asleep after being utterly spent. 'Was he going to do it again now?' The thought made her knees weak.
She turned to say something, but before she could get a word out, his lips claimed hers, silencing her completely. His tongue swept in, giving her no chance to protest.
Eugene spun her around and pinned her against the tiled wall, having sex with her with fierce urgency. Worried she might get cold, he turned the hot water so it streamed steadily down her back.
Sweat poured from him, and soon, even having her braced against the wall wasn't enough—he lifted her, letting her cling to him, her only anchor in the storm.
With nowhere else to turn, she clung to him like a small boat tossed on wild waves—trusting him, holding onto him for dear life.
Watching her surrender, eyes closed, head thrown back, trembling as pleasure overtook her—completely lost in the sensation—Eugene finally felt a sliver of comfort. Some semblance of peace finally eased his troubled heart.