My Cold-Hearted Husband Wants Me Back
Chapter 154: Lucas Allan Grantham

Chapter 154: Lucas Allan Grantham

"Are you crazy? If you’re planning to die, maybe don’t start with evening traffic. That way, you won’t ruin someone’s dinner."

The voice was sharp, laced with dry irritation, but there was something else buried under it. Something harder to define.

Lunara turned her head slowly.

A man stood tall beside her, his hand still loosely holding her arm. His grip had already loosened, but the warmth of it still lingered.

The moment Lunara’s eyes landed on the man, her eyes shifted.

The man looked awfully... familiar.

Sharp eyes. A furrowed brow. That same coldness in his expression that used to make her flinch when Eryx got angry.

No. Not just familiar, uncannily so.

Almost the same height. Almost the same frame.

Even the tilt of his head, for one breathless second, she thought it was Eryx.

But it wasn’t.

This man looked younger. Or maybe just... less worn.

The energy around him felt different. Lighter.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

He let go of her arm and took a step back.

"Watch where you’re walking next time," he said curtly, then turned to walk away.

Lunara stood frozen on the sidewalk, the city noise fading into the background like muffled static.

She blinked once. Twice. But he was still there, walking away, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, like nothing had happened.

Her breath caught in her throat.

’No. No, that’s not possible.’

A memory flickered where Naomi, smiling faintly as she pulled out an old photo album, pausing on one.

"That’s my second brother," she’d said casually. "The quiet one. He was always sneaking out to paint." Her smile slightly faded as she stared at the picture, "We don’t have much of his picture, he didn’t like to take one."

Lunara hadn’t thought much of it then. Just a faded picture of a boy with a sketchpad and a hood pulled halfway over his face.

But now, her hand flew to her mouth. The resemblance was too precise.

She slapped her cheek without meaning to, hoping it would snap her out of it.

’Am I hallucinating?’

’Am I dead? Is this what dying felt like?’

Because the man walking away had the same eyes. The same face. The same posture.

And he was supposed to be buried, Lucas Allan Grantham.

Her legs moved before her brain caught up.

She followed him.

Half a step behind, careful not to be seen, like a child sneaking through a dream that could shatter with a sound.

Lucas didn’t look back. His pace was steady, casual. He crossed the street, turned left, then right again, hands still tucked in his coat pockets, like he walked these roads every day.

Lunara’s heart pounded harder with every step.

She knew she should stop. But her throat was too dry. Her head was too messy to even think. All she knew at that moment, she needed to follow him.

She followed him through the quieter part of the district, where the buildings grew shorter and older, like they had history in their bones.

And then he stopped.

In front of a gate.

A white one, the garden was full with potted plant.

Lunara stopped, too. Just far enough not to be seen.

Lucas reached into his coat, pulled out a key, and unlocked it.

The gate groaned softly.

And then he stepped inside of the house.

At that very moment, he felt like her breath almost stopped.

She’d seen it before, she meant the house.

Not in real life, but in the envelope Regina had handed her before.

The villa.

The same style, the same garden. It looked just like the one in the deed, the Villa her mother gifted her.

Except... this wasn’t her villa.

This was the other one.

The one next door.

She turned around, looking at the surroundings. All this time, the villa was near her. Not that far from the flower shop and she never knew about its existence.

Her hands trembled.

Why was Lucas Allan Grantham, Naomi’s brother, Eryx’s younger brother, the one who was supposed to be dead... here?

She turned away from his villa and looked at the one next to it. She felt heavy in her heart, like she uncovered a secret that was buried here.

She froze, staring at the villa as it could give an answer to every question that had been clicking on her mind.

As her eyes stared at the villa, she found everything matched. The windows. The porch. The quiet path leading to the front door. It wasn’t abandoned. The garden was trimmed, the paint still fresh. Her mother had taken care of it—no, probably Regina, the one who continued looking after it when her mother got sick.

Lunara stood still.

She’d passed by this street before. She had walked this path without ever noticing. And all this time, this house was hers. A gift left behind. Something her mother made sure she would have, even when everything else was gone.

She didn’t move closer. Just looked. Her chest tightened with something she couldn’t name. A moment ago, she was still reeling from the betrayal, Eryx’s lies weighing heavily on her mind. But now, another emotion crept in. Something heavier. Something quieter. A kind of ache she couldn’t explain. Maybe it was from missing her mother—Lilith Hayes.

She never expected it to feel so real. She could picture her mother stepping out from the front door, calling her name like nothing had changed. Like she had been waiting for Lunara to come home.

She didn’t know how long she stood there.

But then she heard steady and unhurried footsteps behind her.

"Did you follow me?"

His voice was calm, but it cut through the silence like a sharp breeze. She turned around slowly.

Lucas was there. Arms crossed. Gaze steady. He looked more curious than annoyed, as if trying to figure her out.

"I really didn’t know why you were following me..." he said, then paused. His eyes narrowed slightly. "But from your eyes, you seemed to know me. Don’t you?"

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