Real Heiress: Flash Marriage With Boyfriend's Uncle - Chapter 222

Chapter 222: Helping me (1) Chapter 222: Helping me (1) Three Hours Ago: “Demetri!

Open this door right now, or I swear I’ll bring a bulldozer to tear your house down!” Roger’s voice blared through the loudspeaker, echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

Inside, Demetri lay sprawled on his bed, groaning as he pressed his hands over his ears, desperate to drown out the commotion.

But he knew it was futile.

Roger was as stubborn as a mule, and once he set his mind to something, there was no stopping him just like Lucius.

The racket was sure to rouse the entire neighborhood, and Demetri could already imagine his neighbors peeking through their curtains, cursing his name for the disturbance.

With a resigned sigh, he muttered, “This man won’t rest until he gets what he wants.” Grumbling under his breath, Demetri slipped on his slippers and trudged toward the front door.

He pushed it open and made his way to the main gates, already regretting the effort.

As soon as he swung the gate open, Roger stood there, grinning smugly with the loudspeaker still in hand.

“I sleep during the day,” Demetri snapped, snatching the loudspeaker out of Roger’s grasp.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked back toward the house.

Roger followed, undeterred.

“I know that, but we need to fix whatever’s going on between you and the boss,” he insisted, his tone half pleading, half exasperated.

Demetri paused, his expression darkening as he spun around.

“Don’t even try,” he warned, fury lacing his voice.

He dropped onto the couch in the living room, leaning his head back against the cushions, his face etched with frustration.

Roger plopped down on the armchair across from him, crossing his arms.

“You know how Boss is.

If something’s gone wrong, sort it out like men.

He was a wreck last night-drinking more than I’ve seen him drink like that some years ago.” Demetri rolled his eyes, unwilling to be drawn into the conversation.

“What happened, Demetri?

You were supposed to tell him something last night.

What did you say?” Roger pressed, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Why don’t you go and ask your Boss?” Demetri shot back, closing his eyes in an attempt to shut Roger out.

Roger sighed heavily.

“Layla’s not letting him leave the house, and she’s confiscated his phone.

Apparently, whatever happened last night earned him some kind of punishment.

You know how she is.” Demetri exhaled sharply.

“Well, that’s good for him.

Lucius deserves to stay locked in the house,” he muttered.

“Seriously, Demitri!?” Roger arched his brow at him.

“Yes, I am serious.

Your boss has broken the friendship.

I no longer know him, nor he knows me.

It’s better for you to leave.

I don’t want to sound rude to you,” Demitri asserted.

“What?

You two ended your friendship?” Roger exclaimed with disbelief.

His arms fell to his sides as he placed his hands on his lap.

It was then that he noticed the dark bruise marring Demitri’s cheek.

His eyes widened in concern.

“Don’t tell me you two got into a fight,” he added cautiously.

Demitri’s gaze sharpened.

“I’m not as violent as your boss,” he replied curtly.

“You should leave.

I need to rest,” he added, leaning back slightly as if to emphasize his dismissal.

Roger hesitated, unsure whether to press further, but the icy finality in Demitri’s tone left him no choice.

As he began to rise, the sharp chime of the doorbell echoed through the room, interrupting the tense moment.

Demitri stood without a word, heading toward the door.

Roger followed him, his curiosity piqued.

When Demitri swung the door open, both men were met with the imposing figure of Lucius standing on the threshold.

“Boss?” Roger’s voice was laced with shock as his gaze flickered between the two men.

Lucius’s sharp eyes darted toward Roger.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded coldly, his frown deepening.

But before Roger could respond, Lucius waved a dismissive hand.

“Never mind.

Leave us,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Recognizing the gravity of the situation, Roger nodded and stepped aside, his instincts telling him not to linger.

Demitri crossed his arms, his piercing gaze locking onto him.

“Where’s your gun?” he asked pointedly.

Lucius exhaled deeply, the weight of his regret evident in his expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

Demitri narrowed his eyes.

“Did Layla put you up to this?” he asked, his tone demanding honesty.

He then took a step back, gesturing for Lucius to enter.

“Come in,” he said and walked back into the house, leaving the door open for Lucius to follow.

As they entered the living room, Lucius’s sharp eyes immediately caught sight of a loudspeaker casually left on the couch.

However, he dismissed it without a second glance as he was here for more important matter.

Demitri sank into the couch, his posture slouched as if the weight of their conversation was already pressing down on him.

His gaze briefly flickered to Lucius before he spoke.

“Layla and I met last night,” he began.

“For her sake, I’m willing to give you a chance to explain yourself.

So, talk.” Lucius hesitated for a moment as he processed Demitri’s words.

He finally stepped forward before speaking, “I always believed Matteo’s death was my burden to bear alone,” he admitted, the pain of the memory evident in his tone.

“But I’ve come to realize it didn’t just haunt me-it tore you apart just as much.

Maybe even more.

I was an idiot to raise my hand on you.

You can do the same.” “I deserved that punch,” Demitri said.

“I made a mistake.

And I don’t want to speak with you.

I won’t tell you what Matteo asked me.

I hope you understand, Lucius.” “Alright,” Lucius nodded his head and took out his phone, “I will not force you.

Can you find out X’s phone details?

Zayne gave me this earlier when I came here to see you.

Don’t deny helping me.

I assure you nothing will happen to me.

I am not Matteo.

And I know what I’m doing.”