Chapitre 4: Chapter 4
Talking about Lukas: he is the son of a duke who stands first in line to inherit his title. He's around twenty-seven years old and claims to be "in love" with Lara, now sixteen, ever since he saw her at a noble banquet when she was only fourteen. He's a major creep, and his father supports him because their duchy is on the verge of losing money. Without proper business sense, marrying into Croft Holdings seems to be their only hope of avoiding future bankruptcy.
Lara has kept her distance from him and avoided most noble banquets after meeting him. Lukas even tried to propose marriage by approaching Winston to arrange a political union, but Winston nearly pulled a gun on Lukas and his father before Lara intervened.
As for Ana, she wants this marriage to happen because she believes that tying Lara down in a noble marriage would ensure she's no longer a threat to Trinity. Ana tried introducing other noble boys to seduce Lara, but all attempts did go to bust because Lara is more in to coin slots than joysticks. After repeated failures, none of the other candidates dared to try again. The only one who remained persistent was the creepy Lukas, who developed a twisted fascination with Lara, and his father, who desperately needed the marriage to save their duchy.
As Lara lay on her bed, her brick-sized phone started ringing on its stand. She answered, hearing a familiar voice on the other end. "Your Highness, I heard you graduated."
"Tony, 'Your Highness' is for the royal family," Lara teased. "And yes, I graduated today." The caller was none other than Tony Stark. They had met when she was around thirteen and he was eleven. Now fourteen, Tony was also finishing up at Phillips Academy this year. He and Lara had connected during one of Howard Stark's business trips to England, where Howard met with Winston. Both Tony and Lara were exceptionally bright kids, and Lara, who remembered a past life, got along well with the young genius.
"So, what's your next step after high school?" Tony asked. "How about coming to America? You're pretty good at mechanical engineering—not quite on my level, but good. The Massachusetts Institute of Technology is top-notch, and you might have a shot at getting in."
"No thanks, Tony. I'm a cultured British noble who only drinks tea and reveres the Queen. How could I stoop to visiting the brutish land of America?" Lara said in an exaggerated English accent. Then she dropped the act and continued, "Seriously though, I've decided on Gourdston Boarding School to pick up sailing and survival skills. After that, I plan to become a tomb raider and treasure hunter."
"Okay, future demolition queen—like you once called yourself," Tony said, amused.
Lara cringed at the reminder. "Tony, can you stop mentioning that?"
"No," he replied, sounding smug.
"Alright then," Lara threatened playfully. "Next time I see you, I'll give you the beating of your life."
Tony paused, recalling the last time Lara had handed him a pretty rough beatdown when he'd tried to peek at her in the shower. "Are you sure you're not some lab-made super soldier?" he asked. "Or maybe a super tomb raider?"
"I'm quite sure I came out of my mom, thank you very much," Lara answered. "I've done a few tests, and I'm a pure, unenhanced human."
"Then you definitely hit the genetic lottery," Tony said with a chuckle.
"I could say the same for you and your brain," said Lara.
Tony, whose ego was already sky-high, replied, "You're right, I'm God's gift to this planet."
Hearing Tony's ego inflate even further, Lara said, "Tone it down a bit, 'God's gift.' You got manhandled by a girl, remember?"
"What girl? You're a genetic anomaly. Bye," Tony shot back before ending the call.
Looking at the phone, Lara sighed and placed it back on the stand.
Getting up from the bed, Lara headed to her office—the one that had once belonged to her cheap father. When she entered, she spotted a maid cleaning inside. 'Didn't I tell the maids never to enter here?' Lara thought. 'This could be interesting. Someone's infiltrated.'
Sitting down at her father's old desk, Lara picked up a few folders. Meanwhile, the maid paid closer attention to Lara while continuing to clean. From what Lara could see, the maid was a redhead. Opening the folders, Lara muttered to herself, "The Divine Source must be somewhere around Siberia."
The maid seemed even more focused now. 'So, she's after information about the Divine Source in Siberia,' thought Lara, watching the maid discreetly.
Scanning the documents, Lara said aloud, "And what is this 'Red Room' organization my father noted in Siberia when he tried to find it?" At that moment, the maid paused for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Lara to notice the unnatural reaction.
Lara stood up. "I'm going to relax today. I can look over these documents tomorrow." She turned toward the door. The maid smiled slightly, but her smile vanished when Lara suddenly stopped and walked back toward her.
"You could help me relax," Lara said, placing her hand on the maid's waist from behind and kissing her neck.
'They didn't mention she sleeps with the maids,' thought the woman posing as a maid. 'I can use this to learn more, but I had no info that she liked girls.' She turned and guided one of Lara's hands up to her chest.
"You're beautiful," said Lara, looking into her face. She recognized those features from her memories. Without warning, Lara leaned in and kissed her on the lips, then moved her other hand lower as if heading toward the maid's crotch.
Expecting the hand's advance, the maid braced herself. Instead, she received a brutal punch to the gut. "Ugh," she gasped, collapsing to the floor. 'Is she enhanced somehow?' the maid wondered, struggling a bit with the pain.
Looking down at the woman on the ground, Lara said, "Thanks for the kiss, Natasha. I never expected to get one from the Black Widow."
Natasha tried to trip Lara, but a powerful and fast kick struck her square in the temple, knocking her out cold.
Glancing at her combat boots, Lara remarked, "I think I got a bit of blood on them."
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
SteffenStephen
SteffenStephen Stone me, I like the pain.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone