Chapter 50
Vance stood at the front desk, his gaze calm as he looked at Gemma, his tone measured. "Ma'am, every procedure at this facility is legal and compliant. The contract was signed properly, and payment records are clear. If you believe there's an issue, you're welcome to pursue legal channels. But causing a scene here won't help."
Gemma's face flushed red at his words, her voice rising even louder. "Legal and compliant? Who signed? Who paid? We're her family, and we knew nothing about this. Who did you make this contract with?"
She grew more agitated, her shrill voice echoing through the entire lobby.
Several nurses stopped and glanced over. Even passing visitors craned their necks to see.
Just then, a cool voice drifted from around the hallway corner.
"I signed it. I paid."
Every eye in the room turned toward the source of the voice.
Lucinda emerged from the corner, hands in her pockets, her pace unhurried, her expression unreadable.
The moment Gemma saw her, her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened and closed, a strangled sound escaping her throat.
Preston's face changed too. His pupils contracted slightly, as if he'd seen something impossible.
"You—what did you say?" Gemma's voice trembled. "You paid? Where did you get that kind of money?"
Lucinda glanced at her but didn't answer. The silence alone seemed to freeze the air in the lobby.
Preston recovered and looked Lucinda up and down, disbelief written all over his face.
This facility cost over five hundred thousand dollars a year. Three years meant more than a million and a half.
How could someone who'd just left the Wipere family possibly have that kind of money?
Allegra stood behind them, biting her lip. She leaned close to Gemma's ear and whispered something.
Her voice was quiet, but Lucinda's hearing was sharp. She caught every word.
"Mom, where would she get that much money? It has to be from men. She goes through two a day. She's got sugar daddies all over."
Gemma's eyes lit up. She exchanged a glance with Preston, and the three of them shared a knowing look.
Gemma cleared her throat, straightened her spine, and her tone shifted to something entitled. "Lucinda, since you have money, we won't beat around the bush. The Wipere family is going through some difficulties right now. If you've got connections, you should help us out. We raised you for twenty years. You owe us for that, don't you?"
She paused, then continued. "First, hand over whatever money you have so we can use it. Second, you know that Ethan guy, right? Go talk to him. Get him to restore his partnership with the Wipere Group. If you do those two things, we'll let you come back to the Wipere family. You won't have to entertain men and embarrass us anymore."
She spoke as if she were offering the greatest gift in the world.
Preston nodded along beside her. Allegra's lips curled into a smirk, a smug gleam in her eyes.
Lucinda listened without a word.
She stood there, looking at the three familiar faces in front of her. After a few seconds, she smiled faintly.
"First, did you ever actually raise me?"
Gemma froze.
"Twenty years. Do you even know how much money you spent on me?" Lucinda's gaze was cold. "Tuition, living expenses, pocket money—all together, it didn't even reach thirty thousand dollars. The one who raised me was Grandma. Not you."
Gemma's face turned ashen. Her lips trembled, but she couldn't find the words to argue.
"Second." Lucinda took a step forward. "Grandma's assets—you tricked her out of them, stole them, sold them off. Between that and what she spent on her own care, there's almost nothing left. All these years, every cent of her medical bills and care costs came from me. How many times did you visit? How often did you check on her? Did you pay a single dollar?"
Preston's face darkened. He looked away.
"So." Lucinda's voice remained flat. "I have no relationship with the Wipere family. Not before. Not now. Not ever."
Gemma, stung by her words, started to throw a tantrum again. "You—you're ungrateful! You're a viper! We raised you for twenty years, and this is how you treat us—"
Lucinda looked at the three twisted faces in front of her. She pulled out her phone, opened a folder, and turned the screen toward Gemma.
On the screen were scanned documents.
Property transfer agreements. Asset assignment contracts. Bank transaction records. Each one bore Grandma's signature and fingerprint—but anyone with eyes could see the signatures were crooked and shaky, clearly signed when she wasn't in her right mind.
"The properties in Grandma's name were taken from her three years ago under the pretense of 'management.' You turned around and sold them. Some of the money went to plug holes in the Wipere Group. The rest, you spent on yourselves."
"These documents are enough to bury you. Make another scene, and I'll call the police right now."
Gemma fell silent instantly, staring at the files. She couldn't utter a single word.
Preston's gaze landed on the bank records. His face turned grim.
If Lucinda really called the police, those documents alone would ruin the Wipere family's reputation forever.
His hands began to shake. He grabbed Gemma's sleeve and hissed, "Let's go."
Under the watchful eyes of the security guards, the three of them turned and shuffled toward the exit.
Gemma's legs were so weak she could barely stand. Preston half-dragged, half-carried her out.
Allegra walked at the back, head down, resentment written all over her face.
Once they were outside the facility, Preston's expression was so dark it could drip water.
He stood at the parking lot entrance, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.
Gemma leaned against the car door, still trembling, muttering under her breath. "That little bitch… where did she get all that… how could she…"
"Enough!" Preston barked. Gemma flinched and went silent.
He crushed the cigarette butt under his heel. "Get in the car. I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" Gemma asked.
"Don't worry about it." Preston turned and strode back toward the facility.
He refused to accept it. That adopted daughter had hidden so many secrets right under his nose. He had to find out the truth.
He'd just reached the glass doors of the lobby when his steps came to an abrupt halt.
Inside, Wesley and Valencia were walking out from the hallway, Francis following behind them with a stack of freshly processed documents.
All three wore casual clothes, but their bearing was unmistakable. They clearly weren't ordinary people.
Lucinda stood beside them, looking down at her phone.
"Cindy." Valencia smiled and took Lucinda's hand. "Everything's taken care of. Will you come with us for the checkup?"
Lucinda looked up at Valencia and nodded. "Okay."
Valencia's eyes lit up with joy. She held onto Lucinda's hand and didn't let go.
Wesley stood beside them, watching his daughter with a warm smile.
Francis walked over and naturally positioned himself on Lucinda's other side. The four of them stood together, looking like a real family.
"Dad, Mom, let's go." Lucinda said.
That single word—"Dad," "Mom"—hit Preston like a thunderclap.
He froze in place as if paralyzed, his gaze shifting to the man standing just behind Wesley.
A man in his fifties, dressed in a charcoal suit, briefcase in hand, bowing slightly with a respectful demeanor as he followed Wesley.
Preston's pupils shrank sharply.
He knew that man.
That was the butler of the Douglas family, the nation's newly crowned wealthiest family. The man had only appeared at state banquet-level events.
Preston had seen him once from a distance. He hadn't even been qualified to approach and introduce himself.
And now, that man was following Wesley with the humility of a servant.
So that meant Wesley was part of the Douglas family.
Wesley. Head of the Douglas Group. The richest man in the country.
And Lucinda called him "Dad." Called Valencia "Mom."
So her biological parents weren't some penniless nobodies from the slums.
They were truly top tier wealthy families.