She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 512

"No, they clarified that was just a cover for the naval ship incident."

The two elderly neighbors kept gossiping as they walked from the stairwell into the courtyard, practically bumping right into Lucian and Loyce.

Standing under the streetlamp, the towering man held tightly to the hand of the girl who barely reached his shoulder. With their stunning, almost ethereal looks, they turned the ordinary little park into a scene straight out of a romantic movie.

The older men stared in shock.

Lucian recognized them and offered a polite nod. "Gentlemen. Out late tonight?"

"We just finished our chess game. Are you two..."

"Heading to the supermarket to get some groceries for dinner," Lucian replied smoothly.

"Oh, cooking at home! That's wonderful, just wonderful..." The men were so flustered they momentarily lost their train of thought. As they watched the young couple walk away, one finally sighed. "They’re both such exceptional kids. If they really are together, it's a perfect match. Truly."

The other nodded, a hint of worry in his eyes. "International tensions are like a taut bowstring right now. You never know when it might snap. That boy carries such a heavy burden."

"Well, he is Zeke Shapiro's grandson. It comes with the territory."

...

The supermarket was brightly lit, offering a warm and peaceful contrast to its daytime chaos.

Lucian pushed the shopping cart while Loyce walked beside him. The height difference made him tilt his head slightly whenever he leaned in to listen to her.

"Let's hit the condiment aisle first," Loyce said, her eyes on her phone's list. "You don't even have salt at your place."

"Whatever you say. I'm clueless when it comes to this stuff," Lucian agreed easily, trailing behind her.

His gaze remained fixed on Loyce. Watching her carefully check expiration dates and pick out basic oils and spices, a quiet, unprecedented warmth bloomed in his chest. It felt like the mundane coziness of a real home.

His hands, so used to gripping firearms and signing corporate directives, now gripped the handle of a grocery cart. And somehow, it felt more meaningful than anything else he had ever done.

Loyce was highly efficient with her selections. "The ribs can be made into a soup, braised, or stir-fried. What do you prefer?"

It was his birthday; she wanted to cater to his tastes.

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