Devilish secretary - Chapter 242

Chapter 242: Chapter 242 Thirst trap
As the group stepped through the grand wooden doors, they were met with warmth, not just from the golden lighting and wooden floors, but from the people waiting inside.

Arthur Carter stood first, his tall figure still noble even in old age. His white hair was combed neatly back, and though his face had softened with time, his sharp eyes held intelligence, guilt, and something else, a searching hope.

But before anyone could speak, another figure came into view.

Alexander.

Gone was the crisp suit and cold CEO aura. Now, he stood leaning casually near the entrance of the drawing room, wearing a tight-fitting black T-shirt that hugged every curve of his sculpted body, and loose grey sweatpants. His hair was messier than usual like he’d just run his hand through it a moment ago and yet, somehow, that made him look even more dangerously relaxed.

And he knew it.

His gaze flicked to Lilith with a soft smirk playing on his lips, as if saying: this view is just for you. He hadn’t said a word yet, but his body language screamed loud enough.

Lilith, on the other hand, didn’t say a word either.

She stared.

Her sharp blue eyes swept over him from head to toe, and the corner of her lip twitched. If looks could eat, he’d be a half-eaten dessert by now. There was no mistaking the way she tilted her head, the glint in her eye, or the very slight curl of her fingers like she was stopping herself from grabbing him right there in front of everyone.

He had dressed to seduce.

And he was succeeding.

And Arthur Carter, standing quietly, turned his eyes to Lilith.

In that one moment, he truly looked at her.

Not as a stranger, or as the woman in the news. But as the girl who had faced fire, carried secrets in her eyes, and stood proud despite everything.

And what he saw…

Was fire.

Not the kind that burned wildly. But the kind that glowed in quiet anger and strength. The kind that didn’t scream, but warned.

But Lilith didn’t shift her attention to him yet.

Because Alexander had just started walking toward her. Slow. Confident. His steps almost lazy, but his gaze fixed only on her.

He stopped just inches away.

But before Alexander could reach her, Arthur stepped forward gently.

His eyes softened as he looked at Lilith…not with authority, not with demand, but with care.

“You must be Lilith,” he said quietly, his voice smooth and deep, aged like old music. “I… I’ve wanted to meet you for some time now.”

Lilith, who still had her arms crossed, slowly turned to face him properly. Her eyes held polite calm, but also caution. Like a lioness watching a kind stranger too close to her den.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he added.

“I’m sure you have,” Lilith replied evenly. She didn’t bow, didn’t smile. But her voice wasn’t harsh—just guarded.

Arthur nodded. “And I’ve seen even more,” he said softly. “The things you’ve done. The way you stood up for Rose. For Sebastian. For yourself.” His hand trembled slightly as he continued, “You remind me of someone. Someone very dear to me.”

Lilith’s expression flickered just for a second, but she said nothing.

“I know… words from me may not matter,” Arthur went on, stepping back to give her space. “But I’m glad you’re here. Truly.”

Lilith gave him a subtle nod.

“Thank you,” she said, just barely above a whisper.

And with that, she turned—just in time to find Alexander now standing right in front of her.

He leaned in a little, his voice soft but smug. “Took you long enough to look at me.” Though he knew her eyes had found him first.

She tilted her head, lips curling. “I was admiring the decor.”

Alexander raised a brow. “Liar.”

“Thirst trap,” she replied calmly, walking past him.

But he smiled as he turned and followed her without hesitation.

Behind them, the maids carried their suitcases inside. Arthur had already made arrangements, every guest was to have their own private room. It was thoughtful, organized, and… completely ruining Alexander’s secret plans.

He stood frozen in the hallway when one of the maids announced with a polite bow, “Miss Lilith, your room is on the second floor, left wing.”

His face cracked. Just slightly. But it was enough.

He turned to look at the maid, then at Lilith, who had her arms folded, standing like a victorious queen. Her lips were curled into the smallest, most infuriating smirk. She tilted her head at him like she didn’t know why he looked so offended.

“Separate rooms?” he asked, raising a brow toward his grandfather.

Arthur Carter, completely unaware of the internal war in his grandson’s heart, smiled. “Of course. We must respect privacy. She’s your guest, after all.”

Guest. The word sounded like poison to Alexander. His jaw tightened. He couldn’t even protest, his grandfather was right there watching him. Acting out would only make things worse.

Meanwhile, Lilith was walking off, her heels clicking confidently on the wooden floor. Her room was not just separate, it was far. Far enough to make any night rendezvous difficult.

Sigh.

Alexander muttered something under his breath as he walked to his room, located on the opposite wing of the mansion. She was playing games again. And he was falling for them. Again.

Ava and Nova, meanwhile, were bubbling with joy. They’d been given rooms right next to each other, and Ava couldn’t stop smiling when she saw how happy Nova was. The countryside air, the flowers, the comfort—it was all perfect for their romantic getaway. “Let’s sneak out at night,” Nova whispered. Ava smacked his arm playfully.

Further down the hall, Ethan stared blankly at the door. His expression was one of complete betrayal. He had begged Grandpa Arthur for a single room. One bed. One human. But no, he had to share it with the square-headed, emotionally confused robot.

Inside the room, Sir Sparkleton was already unpacking his invisible luggage. “Don’t worry, Sir Ethan. I will not snore. Unless emotionally triggered.”

Ethan shut his eyes, rubbing his temples. “God help me. This robot is going to melt my cold heart.”

Meanwhile, on the other end of the corridor, Rose sat on her bed hugging her pillow, pouting hard.

“He doesn’t like me,” she mumbled. “Sir Sparkleton doesn’t like me back…”

Outside her window, birds chirped gently, the sunset was painting the sky in shades of peach and lavender, and the peaceful countryside evening was full of charm.

But Rose was experiencing heartbreak. Real heartbreak.

“He likes Lilith, he likes Ethan Bro, he likes brother” she muttered bitterly. “That robot’s taste is broken. He likes girls and boys who push him into walls, call him tin can, and threaten to sell his bolts on eBay.”

Because yes, Sir Sparkleton clearly had a type.

A toxic one.

And unfortunately for Rose… she was just too sweet.