Chapter 167 Setting Another Trap

Chapter 167 Setting Another Trap
Sarah POV

The screen showed Natalie writhing beneath a man, her face twisted in a mixture of drug-induced need and desperate humiliation. I frowned at the sight.

"Turn it off," I said quietly.

Chris didn't need to be asked twice. The screen went black.

Michael pushed through the door a moment later, still adjusting his tie. "Not enjoying the show?"

"No." The word came out final. "Looking at her makes me sick." I thought about this afternoon: Natalie standing over Lily's empty grave, dropping that white lily onto the coffin like some twisted calling card.

Michael crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. "We did great," he murmured against my hair.

I leaned into him for a moment, letting myself feel safe. But my mind was already moving forward. "Did she say anything useful? Any names of who she's working with?"

"Actually, yes." Michael's voice turned heavier. "When the door closed, she started screaming. Called Lucas a piece of shit, said she'd kill him. That means Lucas is her partner."

Lucas. My biological father. Why would he be involved in this?

"That doesn't make sense," I said, pulling back to look at Michael. "If Lucas just wanted my kidney for Sloane, why go to all this trouble? And she was supposedly so sick—how has she survived this long without it?"

Michael's expression darkened. "Good question. Chris, I need you to dig into Lucas Lane."

Chris straightened up from where he'd been lounging against the control panel. "Seriously, bro? I've been busting my ass playing detective for you two for weeks now. You guys better hook me up with some serious rewards when all this crap is over."

"Get back to work first," Michael said, but there was affection in his tone.

I chuckled. "Don't worry, Chris. When this baby's born, you can be the godfather."

Chris's eyes sparkled with excitement, like he'd just been told he could buy a new Lamborghini. "Now that's what I'm talking about! Finally, some respect around here." He bounded toward the door with renewed energy.

Michael shook his head as Chris disappeared. "You spoil him."

"He's my brother-in-law now. I'm supposed to spoil him a little." I smoothed down my dress, trying to shake off the last traces of this evening's performance. "Come on. Let's go home."

We made our way out of the Crown Club, Michael pausing to give Tomas final instructions. "Keep Natalie secured until she sobers up, then move her to the safe house. And get me her complete phone records—I want to see every conversation she's had with Lucas."

The ride to the Johnson estate gave me time to process what we'd actually accomplished today. The truth was, none of the news reports was real. We'd orchestrated everything.

When Natalie made it clear she wanted to destroy our marriage, we decided to give her exactly what she thought she wanted. A fake divorce, complete with planted news stories and staged family drama. For that mysterious guy who kept targeting our children, we went further. Lily's funeral had been an elaborate performance, complete with an empty coffin and borrowed grief.

The real Lily was safe upstairs at the estate, probably fast asleep by now. We'd had her discharged from the hospital yesterday, telling everyone she needed rest and privacy. Only family knew the truth.

Michael's drunken despair had been just as carefully crafted. We'd spread word through our contacts that he was hitting the bars, drowning his sorrows. Then we'd waited for Natalie to take the bait.

She'd walked right into our trap. We'd positioned surveillance throughout the club, so her little drug-switching trick was spotted the moment she tried it. And when she found herself trapped, Michael's psychological pressure finally broke her. Learning that her own partner had betrayed her was the final straw—she couldn't hold back anymore and screamed out the name of the person she's working with.

Still, knowing Lucas was behind this left me with more questions than answers. What was his real motive here?

We pulled through the estate gates just after midnight. The house was quiet, most of the lights off, but Margaret had left the porch light burning for us.

"Sarah? Michael?" Margaret's voice drifted from the living room as we came through the front door.

"We're back, Mom." Michael guided me toward the sound of her voice.

We found Margaret curled up in her armchair, still dressed but clearly drowsy. She straightened when she saw us. "Well? Did it work?"

"Better than we hoped," Michael explained. "Natalie walked right into it. We got everything on camera, and she revealed who she's working with."

Margaret's eyebrows rose. "Who?"

"Lucas Lane," I said quietly. "My biological father."

Margaret looked troubled. "That doesn't sound right, dear. Why would he want to hurt you?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Michael said grimly.

I yawned, exhaustion finally catching up with me. The pregnancy made me tired enough without adding elaborate revenge schemes to the mix.

"Go check on Lily," Michael said softly. "I'll fill Mom in on the details."

I climbed the stairs slowly. Lily's room was at the end of the hall, her door slightly ajar. I pushed it open carefully, trying not to let the hinges creak.

She was curled up in the middle of the enormous bed, her dark hair spread across the pillow. In sleep, she looked so peaceful. No one looking at her would ever guess the trauma she'd been through.

I closed the door quietly and headed back downstairs. Michael and my mom were deep in conversation. They looked up when I appeared.

"Lily's sleeping like an angel," I reported, settling back onto the couch.

"She's been through enough." Mom reached over and patted my hand. "You both have."

The next morning brought Chris bursting through the dining room doors like a hurricane, laptop bag slung over his shoulder and an enormous grin on his face.

"Boom!" He slammed his laptop down on the breakfast table, making the coffee cups rattle. "Your boy Chris has outdone himself once again. Seriously, I should charge consulting fees for this level of detective work."

Michael looked up from his eggs with mild exasperation. "What did you find?"

"Get this." Chris flipped open his laptop and started typing rapidly. "Lucas's son Shane? He died in a car accident the exact same day we flew back from California. And guess what happened after he died?"

I felt my stomach drop. "He donated his organs."

"Bingo! Specifically, his kidneys went to his sister, Sloane. Who, by the way, has been in remission for over a month now. Whatever kidney problems she had, they're basically solved."

"So he didn't come for my kidney this time." I considered this. "Then what does he want?"

Michael set down his fork carefully. "When exactly did the car accident happen?"

Chris consulted his screen. "About four PM. According to the police report, Shane received a call from the hospital saying Sloane's condition had suddenly deteriorated. He was rushing to see her when his car went off the road about twenty minutes' drive from his vineyard. Why?"

I watched Michael's face as the pieces clicked together. "That's right. We were at his vineyard tasting wines when he got that call. I remember him looking panicked, saying he had to leave immediately."

"So Lucas blames us," I said slowly. "We just happened to be the variables in Shane's life that day. He thinks we're somehow responsible for Shane's death."

"But that's crazy," Margaret interjected. "You barely knew the young man. And you certainly didn't cause his accident."

"Grief doesn't always follow logic, Mom," Michael said grimly. "And if Lucas thinks we killed his son..."

"He wants to make us pay by taking our children," I finished. "An eye for an eye."

Chris nodded enthusiastically. "That's not even the best part. Lucas is still in Star City. Been staying at the Ritz Carlton for over a month now."

That was odd. If his revenge plan had worked—if he thought Lily was dead and our marriage was over—why hadn't he gone home to California?

"There's more," Chris continued. "Tomas just got back with Natalie's phone records. Want to see who she's been chatting with?"

Michael and I exchanged glances. "Show us."

Chris pulled up another file, this one full of call logs and message timestamps. "Lucas Lane, Lucas Lane, Lucas Lane. They've been in contact for weeks. Planning this whole thing together."

I felt sick reading through the messages. "So what's our next move?" I asked.

Michael leaned back in his chair, his expression calculating. "Natalie thinks Lucas betrayed her. Lucas doesn't know we've caught Natalie. If we play this right, we can get them to destroy each other and catch Lucas red-handed."