Chapter 309
Lancaster Manor.
For three full days and nights, someone stood guard at the Lancaster Manor gates.
Charles tried several times to leave but couldn't. When he attempted to contact people outside, he discovered the manor's signal had been blocked.
With no idea what was happening outside, Charles grew increasingly anxious.
Wallace was equally unsettled.
Their strange behavior didn't escape Harold's notice.
Harold finally couldn't hold back his questions. "What on earth is going on? What does Sterling want?"
This wasn't the first time he'd asked.
But Charles, afraid of Harold's punishment, hadn't dared tell the truth.
He tried to deflect again. "I'm not sure either, Grandpa. Uncle Sterling's thoughts have never been easy to read..."
Before he could finish, commotion arose from the manor entrance.
Chaotic footsteps approached from far to near, quickly reaching the main hall doorway.
Everyone stopped talking and looked toward the entrance.
Sterling appeared with a group of people, sweeping in from outside.
As soon as he entered, his subordinates lined up neatly on both sides. Two of them held Penelope, following behind Sterling, walking up to the group.
In just three days, anxiety had caused Penelope to lose a significant amount of weight. She looked terrible.
Seeing his mother like this, Charles couldn't sit still.
"Sterling, what have you done to my mom?" He stood up, demanding answers.
Sterling cast him a cold glance and sat down in a single armchair nearby.
The injury on his leg hadn't fully healed—standing for long periods made it ache.
Penelope remained held by the guards, forced to stand behind him.
Sterling hadn't even spoken yet, but the atmosphere was already heavy.
Harold looked at him, then at the two people beside him, his expression darkening. "Sterling, what are you doing?"
Sterling finally looked up, his gaze sweeping coldly across Charles and Wallace's faces like a blade of ice.
"Dad, someone in our family has attempted murder. The police are on their way," he said.
Harold's hand tightened abruptly on his cane. "What?"
He rose suddenly, looking furiously at his eldest son and grandson. "What stupid thing have you done now? Tell me everything right now!"
Hearing the police were coming, Wallace felt somewhat guilty and glanced at Penelope.
Penelope's expression was equally grim.
"Grandpa," Charles, unaware of what had happened outside, thought Sterling was just trying to scare him, "I haven't done anything. Uncle Sterling's lost his mind, keeping us locked up here like criminals. If something really happened, the police would've shown up already."
Then he looked at Sterling. "Uncle Sterling, you just can't find anyone, so you're here to threaten me, right? The more you do this, the less I'll say."
Sterling curved his lips contemptuously. "Looks like no one's willing to confess."
He glanced around at everyone and stood up unhurriedly. "Then so be it. We'll all wait here. For every day no one confesses, the Lancaster Manor gates stay closed—until someone steps forward, or the police find the culprit."
With that, he turned to head upstairs.
Of everyone present, Harold was the only one who knew nothing.
Seeing Sterling so unyielding, Harold grew angry. "Stop! Explain yourself clearly. What happened? Attempted murder? Murder of whom? How do you know?"
Sterling's steps paused. He turned around. "Two days ago, there was a fire at Charles's film studio. Coincidentally, the palace structure that caught fire had a hidden courtyard inside, with someone locked in it."
His eyes darkened as he asked Harold, "Father, would you say that counts as attempted murder?"
Harold's face turned ashen as he looked at Charles.
Charles was completely dumbfounded.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, he shot up from the sofa and strode quickly to Sterling.
"What did you say? The film studio caught fire? Which palace structure?" His face looked terrible as he stared urgently at Sterling.
Sterling narrowed his eyes. "The one with the hidden courtyard inside?"
Charles's heart sank completely. For a moment, his legs nearly gave out.
After a long pause, he finally found his voice. "How could there be a fire? I never... I never ordered anyone to do that!"
He stared intently at the man before him. "Where's Willow? Is she okay? How is she now?"
Sterling's face remained cold, offering no response.
Charles muttered in distress, "I locked her up... if something happened to her..."
He didn't dare think further.
Harold had clearly heard their conversation and keenly sensed something.
"Willow?" He looked at the two men in the distance, demanding coldly, "The person you say was nearly murdered—that's Willow?"
Sterling didn't confirm or deny it.
Harold turned to Charles. "You're the one who locked her there?"
Charles was still lost in his thoughts, unable to respond.
Harold suddenly raised his cane and struck Charles's leg. "How many times have I told you to stay away from that woman! You've ignored everything I said! I told you to go abroad, but you couldn't even do that properly!"
The blow nearly brought Charles to his knees. He finally snapped back to reality, but instead of responding to Harold, he looked at Penelope and Wallace in the distance.
"Mom, Uncle Wallace, was it you?" He limped toward them. "You had someone set the fire, didn't you? You didn't want me to take Willow abroad, so you wanted her dead?"
"Who was it?" Madness filled his face. "Who did it? What did Willow do wrong? Even if you don't like her, you didn't have to want her dead!"
Wallace and Penelope remained silent.
Sterling said coldly, "If you confess now, I'll turn you over to the police. But if I have to find out myself, things won't be so simple."
Harold had been watching Charles, but hearing this, he suddenly realized something and turned back to Sterling.
"Sterling." His face was stern. "For the sake of one woman, you've turned this family upside down."
Sterling met Harold's gaze.
Harold's voice paused, his eyes complex. "Are you really involved with Willow?"
All this time, he'd suspected his younger son of having an inappropriate relationship with his grandson's ex-wife.
But it had only been suspicion.
Now these two were tearing the family apart over one Willow.
Harold could no longer deceive himself.
Sterling didn't respond, instead ordering his subordinates, "Take my father upstairs to rest."
He didn't explicitly answer, but he didn't deny it either.
That was as good as confirmation.
His younger son was involved with his grandson's ex-wife.
The thought made Harold's vision swim.
"You..." He wanted to say something.
But two subordinates had already approached, supporting him from both sides.
"Let go!" Harold barked. "You've all gone mad!"
The subordinates were Sterling's people—naturally, they wouldn't listen to him.
"Please go upstairs and rest," Sterling said. "After this is over, I'll submit to whatever punishment you decide."