Chapter 8
Diana helped Barney out, her face still showing traces of grievance.
She looked up and caught sight of Reginald and Lucinda talking together at the end of the corridor.
The way Reginald looked at Lucinda—
Diana bit her lip.
Why?
A soft cough sounded beside her.
Diana pulled her gaze back and turned to her father.
Barney's face was still pale, but his eyes were sharp as knives, staring at her heavily.
"Dad..." Diana's heart lurched.
"Earlier in the lab, those things you said," Barney's voice was grave. "I heard every word."
Diana's expression changed. "Dad, let me explain. I was worried about you. I was afraid that woman would mess things up—"
"Worried about me?" Barney cut her off, his voice cooling. "Worried about me, so you screamed outside and blocked people from saving me?"
The people who hadn't dispersed yet stopped in their tracks, all eyes turning toward them.
Diana's face flushed instantly red.
"Dad! Whatever you want to say, let's talk at home!" She lowered her voice and tugged at her father's sleeve.
Barney didn't move.
He looked at his daughter, his eyes filled with deep disappointment. "Diana, I've brought you in and out of labs since you were little. I taught you how to behave, how to conduct yourself. And this is what I raised you to be?"
Diana froze.
"In front of all these people, you cursed the person who saved your father. And after cursing her, you wanted to destroy her completely." Barney's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear. "Right now, you're going to apologize to her."
Diana's eyes widened. "Dad, you want me to apologize to her? Who does she think she—"
"Diana." Barney only called her name.
But that tone made Diana stiffen completely.
She opened her mouth, still wanting to say something, when a calm voice drifted over from nearby.
"Oh, right." Lucinda had turned around at some point, her gaze resting lightly on them, lips curved in a faint smile. "Earlier outside the door, Ms. Lancaster seemed to say she'd make me kneel before her and beg for mercy?"
Diana's face went deathly white.
She whipped her head toward Lucinda, wanting to argue back, but her peripheral vision caught her father's dark expression. All her words stuck in her throat.
The surroundings fell utterly silent.
Everyone watched the scene.
Tears instantly welled up in Diana's eyes.
She bit her lip, staring hard at the ground, voice as small as a mosquito's buzz. "I'm sorry."
Lucinda didn't move.
"What?" Her voice remained even.
Diana's nails dug into her palms.
"I'm sorry—!" She suddenly looked up, tears rolling down her cheeks, voice so loud it echoed through the entire corridor. "I said I'm sorry! Are you satisfied!"
Lucinda looked at her, lips curving slightly. "Satisfied."
She turned and walked toward the end of the corridor without looking back.
Diana stood frozen, trembling all over.
Tears still flowing, but those eyes fixed on that retreating figure burned with vicious light.
Lucinda.
She repeated the name viciously in her mind.
'Just you wait.'
Lucinda walked out the institute's main entrance. Elowen jogged after her.
"Ms. Wipere!" Her eyes sparkled, her face still flushed with excitement. "You were so cool just now! Did you see Diana's expression? When you made her apologize, her face went black!"
Lucinda didn't break stride, lips curving slightly. "Alright, get back to work."
Elowen nodded vigorously. "Okay! I'll go organize the data right away!"
She stood in place, watching Lucinda's retreating figure, her face full of worship.
Her mentor was her mentor.
Always so unfazed. Always so cool.
Lucinda reached the roadside. That black Maybach was still parked there.
Seeing her approach, the driver hurried forward to open the door.
In the back seat, Francis was looking down at his phone. Hearing the sound, he looked up.
"Done?" He put away his phone, his gaze circling her face. "Everything okay?"
Lucinda got in the car. "Fine."
Francis glanced at her, didn't press further, and simply told the driver, "Let's go. Home."
The car pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic.
The car headed north, passing through the bustling downtown and onto a quiet tree-lined avenue.
Tall, lush plane trees stood on both sides, their branches interweaving overhead into a green canopy.
At the end of the road, two black gates slowly opened.
The car drove in. Lucinda's gaze fell on the scenery outside.
Lawns, fountains, meticulously manicured gardens, and in the distance, two three-story white buildings.
Two villas stood side by side, separated by a small artificial lake.
Her gaze paused slightly.
The car stopped in front of the main building.
The moment the door opened, two figures hurried forward.
"Lucinda!"
A woman in a long dress rushed to the car first and pulled Lucinda into her arms.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, her voice trembling. "My daughter... you're finally home..."
Lucinda froze slightly in the embrace.
Her mother, Valencia Seymour,'s embrace was warm, carrying a faint scent of jasmine. Her arms held tight, as if afraid that the moment she let go, the person in her arms would disappear.
Lucinda's hands hung at her sides, twitching slightly. Ultimately, she didn't push her away.
Lucinda's father, Wesley Douglas, stood nearby. He didn't speak, just watched them quietly.
After a long moment, Valencia finally released her hold. She cupped Lucinda's face, looking left and right, tears streaming down. "You've gotten thinner... much thinner than in the photos... These years you were there, did you suffer a lot?"
Lucinda looked at her. She opened her mouth, finally only saying, "It was okay."
Wesley stepped forward and patted his wife's shoulder gently. "Alright, don't stand here. Let the child come inside and talk."
Valencia finally snapped out of it and nodded repeatedly. "Right, let's go inside and talk, inside and talk."
She pulled Lucinda's hand and headed inside. Wesley followed beside them. Francis lagged a few steps behind, his gaze lingering on his sister's back for a moment before turning in another direction. "There's still something at the research facility I need to handle."
Valencia waved without turning around. "Go ahead."
Lucinda was pulled through the door.
Then she stopped.
The entrance hall was enormous—like a ballroom.
Underfoot was solid marble, natural veining glowing with warm luster.
Overhead, layers of crystal chandeliers hung, each crystal cut with precise facets.
Everywhere she looked—famous calligraphy and paintings, antique ornaments, treasures she'd only seen at auctions.
Valencia noticed her standing still and nervously squeezed her hand. "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
Lucinda withdrew her gaze and shook her head. "No."
Her tone was light, but a subtle ripple showed in her eyes.
Even having witnessed countless grand occasions, she was momentarily stunned by this house's opulence.
Not the gaudy piling-on of nouveau riches, but true opulence with depth.
Every ornament, every painting, exuded an understated nobility.
Wesley caught up, his tone gentle. "This house was just renovated last year, designed to your mother's tastes. You've just come home—if there's anything you're not used to, or any room you don't like, the estate next door is also ours. You can redecorate according to your own preferences."
Lucinda raised her eyes, her gaze settling on his face.
In Starlight City, where every inch of land was worth gold, two estates?
She said nothing, her gaze sweeping around.
Certainly quite luxurious.
But she didn't voice that thought.
Wesley and Valencia exchanged glances, smiles flickering in their eyes.
This child wore her thoughts on her face.
Just then, Valencia's phone lit up.
She glanced down. A message popped up on the screen—
[Mommy, the gala's over. Coming home soon. I miss you!]
Valencia's finger twitched, about to reply, but her peripheral vision caught Lucinda already walking toward the living room.
She quickly put away her phone and hurried to catch up. "Lucinda, let me show you your room!"
Lucinda nodded and followed her upstairs.
Behind them, Wesley stood in place, watching that cool silhouette, his eyes full of heartache.
Twenty years.
His daughter had finally come home.