I Married My Ex's Billionaire Uncle by Mistake

"If we're having soup, shouldn't a married couple drink it together? Seems like it'd taste a little... different."

Lancelot thought for sure Calista would get all flustered and push him away. But nope-ears a little red, she just gazed at him with that look in her eyes.

"You're totally right, babe. There's something special about sharing it."

She really thought he'd win by making her blush again? Yeah right. Lumi had once said, in a game of flirt vs. counter-flirt, the shameless one always wins.

"Want some more, honey?"

Calista glanced at Lancelot's tense expression, grabbed the spoon, and moved to feed him again.

Lancelot let go of her and cleared his throat as he stood up. "Nah, you finish it. I've got work stuff to handle. If you need anything, just ask the butler."

"Alright, but come home early, okay? I'll be waiting right here."

Watching him leave in such a rush, Calista couldn't help but giggle behind her hand.

Oh man, did he really just flee like that? Was that his version of running away?

Hearing her last line, Lancelot nearly slipped. He was seriously starting to wonder-was letting her stay here the worst decision he'd ever made?

If wives came with a return policy, he'd be the first in line.

*****

Two hours later, Calista was fresh out of the shower, munching on a fruit platter and bombarding Lancelot with messages.

[Babe, you're still not home? I'm waiting for you to go to bed.]

[Don't drink too much tonight, okay?]

[I'm already showered and on the bed, waiting~]

Her texts popped up one after another, blowing up Lancelot's screen like popcorn.

He narrowed his eyes, that handsome face of his now shadowed with helplessness.

Tristan, sitting next to him and noticing the constant buzzing, leaned over curiously. When he caught sight of the screen filled with "babe" and cutesy words, his eyes widened.

"Whoa-since when do you have a girlfriend? Thought you weren't even into girls..."

"My wife," Lancelot corrected flatly, giving him a side-eye while grabbing his phone.

Tristan nearly spit out his drink. Did he hear that right?

Wife?

When the hell did Lancelot get married?

"Wait-are you serious?"

Tristan had been about to crack a joke, but seeing how dead-serious Lancelot looked, he blinked in disbelief.

"Anyway, let's stick to what we discussed earlier. I'm heading home."

Lancelot didn't bother explaining anything else. He got up, barely sparing Tristan a glance, and walked off.

"Hey! Dude, you're seriously gonna leave without telling me who you married? I don't even know her name!"

Lancelot didn't respond, his figure disappearing through the door. Tristan could only stomp his foot in frustration.

Unreal. What kind of friend keeps a marriage a secret?

Who was the mystery woman calling him "babe" anyway?

Did Lancelot really get hitched? This had to be the biggest shocker of the year. He was definitely gonna dig around and find out who she was.

*****

"Calista, get down here!"

The moment Lancelot walked into the villa, reeking of alcohol, he spotted his prized orchids tossed in the trash like weeds.

Those orchids weren't just rare-they were basically irreplaceable. He'd spent a fortune to get ten of them transplanted here, only for them to be trashed.

There was only one person clueless enough to mistake orchids for weeds-and it was obviously Calista.

Calista was tidying up the living room-it had just gotten a makeover, and most of the decor still needed placing.

As soon as she heard Lancelot's voice laced with irritation, she dashed out in nothing but a slinky slip dress.

"Honey, you're back! Come check it out-I swear the living room looks way better now than that old-school style you had."

"Go... upstairs and put some real clothes on."

Seriously, what the hell was she wearing again? Was she trying to tempt someone?

He was about to ask her what she did to their garden's centerpiece, but the moment he caught sight of her outfit, his face darkened on the spot.

"Doesn't this look good? Why are you always on my case about what I wear?"

Calista deliberately rubbed her chest area as she leaned closer to him.

Just as expected, he blushed a little, but kept his poker face.

She was about to touch his cheek when he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her with an all-too-cold tone. "Calista, are you begging me to throw you out?"

"Come on, babe... don't be mad."

"Talk properly."

That "babe" hit him square in the nerves.

She's doing it on purpose. No doubt.

"I am talking properly."

Calista widened her eyes in innocence, stood on tiptoe, and lifted her hands in front of him.

"Honey, look-I've been slaving away in the kitchen all for you."

"Serves you right. Who told you to cook? The house's got a chef, it's not like we're broke."

Lancelot froze for a second, his gaze landing on her hands as she edged closer. Something inside him twisted, but he kept his face tight and unreadable.

"Chef's food doesn't hold a candle to mine," she mumbled under her breath, lips pouting.

Ugh. He really didn't get romance at all. What a buzzkill.

Forget it. She wasn't going to stoop to the emotional level of an uptight old man.

Lancelot, brows furrowed and charm turned icicle, completely ignored her chatter. Instead, he pointed at the orchid pot by the trash.

"You did that?"

"I helped clean up the garden. Seriously, why were you growing so many weeds?"

Calista tilted her head and gave him that classic "I'm doing you a favor" look.

"That's... a premium orchid."

Lancelot looked at her wide-eyed, innocent face and almost coughed up blood.

He wanted a refund. Right now.

This little demon must've been sent just to drive him insane.

"An orchid? Since when did orchids look like weeds? My bad, babe. I'll get you new ones."

She genuinely didn't know those were prized orchids-looked like weeds to her, and she was trying to help.

"Forget it."

He spat out the words coldly, didn't even glance at her, and just went upstairs.

Seeing how mad he was, Calista nearly rolled on the floor laughing, clutching her stomach-he was just too entertaining.

Seriously, how could Lancelot be this much fun to mess with?

When it came to emotional intelligence, even their son Lucas could beat this guy hands down.

Speak of the devil.

Her phone buzzed. One look, and her smile disappeared, replaced by a chilling indifference.

[Calista, don't throw your happiness away like this. I told you, once I take the number two spot in the Bennett family, I'll leave Felicity and marry you. Can't you just wait a little longer...]

[Save it. You'd better start practicing calling me Mom.]

Calista didn't bother reading the rest. Her fingers flew across the screen, sending the message without a second thought.