Chapter 98: Caged

Amelia’s POV

The mansion felt like an expensive ticking bomb, but I was doing my best to remain patient. For three days, Richard had kept the entire upper wing under a strict "medical quarantine" for our son.

He had taken Kieran’s phone, changed the security codes on the front gates, and insisted that total rest in his bedroom was the only way to save his mind from a severe neurological breakdown.

I was so exhausted by our looming divorce battle that I believed him. I trusted that Richard, despite his flaws, was genuinely trying to protect our son's health

That blind trust was shattered with a single phone call.

My cell phone had buzzed on the kitchen counter, displaying an unknown number. When I answered, Asher Carter, Kieran’s first-line mate from Crestwood on the line, his voice thick with panic. He refused to give details over the phone, terrified of Richard's surveillance, and begged me to slip out of the house to meet him at a quiet restaurant down the street.

Now, sitting in a dimly lit booth across from the frantic teenager, the sickening knot in my stomach turned into pure horror.

"Mrs Hampton, please, you don't understand!" Asher pleaded, leaning across the wooden table, his hands shaking around a mug of untouched coffee. "Kieran didn't have a mental breakdown. You need to know the truth about why he fainted on the ice. He is taking a dangerous drug!"

I froze. My hand trembled against my water glass. "What did you just say?"

"It's an experimental nerve-blocking drug from Europe," Asher explained quickly, his words rushing out. "Richard gave it to him. It numbs his leg

completely so he can walk on a shattered ankle, but it is destroying his mind. It causes hallucinations, and it is a ticking time bomb for his heart.

Richard is using it to force him to play. Please, you have to look for the real charts. Check his private study."

Asher's voice faded as the reality of his words set in. I thanked him, rushed out of the restaurant, and drove back to the estate in a daze

The tired, defeated feeling inside me vanished instantly. It was replaced by a cold, fierce protective instinct. Asher was right. I had been a blind fool.

I waited in the living room for hours, watching my grandfather clock tick away the time. At midnight, Richard finally came downstairs. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, swallowed his own medicine, and went to sleep in the guest bedroom at the end of the hall.

The house became completely silent.

I slipped off my shoes and walked silently up the grand staircase. I didn't go to Kieran's room first; I went straight to Richard's private study. My hands were shaking as I pushed the door open.

I turned on the small desk lamp, keeping the light as dim as possible. I began searching through the leather folders on his desk. There was nothing but corporate contracts. I opened the desk drawers, but found only bank statements.

Then, I noticed Richard's expensive leather briefcase sitting on the armchair near the window. My fingers trembled as I unclasped the metal locks. The sharp click sounded incredibly loud in the quiet room. I held my breath, listening for any footsteps in the hallway.

Nothing moved.

I reached inside the briefcase and pulled out a thick manila envelope. Inside, there were real medical documents, completely different from the fake charts Richard had shown me earlier.

My eyes scanned the clinical text, and the colour instantly drained from my face.

It was a contract from a private laboratory in Zurich. It detailed a fast-acting nerve-blocking agent. The warnings were printed in bold red ink: HIGH RISK OF NERVOUS SYSTEM OVERLOAD. PROLONGED USE CAUSES HALLUCINATIONS, PERMANENT LOSS OF REFLEXES, AND ACUTE CARDIAC ARREST UPON CHEMICAL WALL COLLAPSE. Attached to the papers was a receipt for a massive financial transfer from Richard's corporate account to the doctor.

My hands shook so hard the papers nearly slipped from my grip. Asher was right.

Richard hadn't been protecting our son. He had purchased a lethal chemical weapon, fed it to our broken boy, and then locked him in his room to break his spirit when he tried to rebel.

A sudden wave of pure, maternal fury washed over my chest. The fear I had felt for this man for decades completely vanished.

I stuffed the documents into the pocket of my robe, marched out of the study, and walked down the hallway toward the guest bedroom. I did not knock. I threw the door open, slammed it against the wall, and flicked on the bright overhead lights.

Richard winced, blocking his eyes from the sudden glare as he sat up in bed. "Amelia? What the hell are you doing? It's midnight."

I walked straight to the foot of his bed. I pulled the medical documents from my pocket and threw them directly onto his lap. The papers were scattered across his blanket.

Richard looked down at the red warning labels. For a fraction of a second, absolute panic flashed across his face. Then, his features smoothed out into that familiar, arrogant mask. He let out a dry, cold chuckle.

"You're snooping through my briefcase now?" Richard asked, tossing the papers aside onto the mattress.

"You don't understand the science, Amelia. It's an advanced healing method. It’s what professional athletes use to stay competitive. I am saving his draft potential."

"Shut your mouth, Richard," I said. My voice wasn't loud. It was a low, lethal register that cut through his smooth excuses like a knife.

Richard froze. He was not used to me speaking to him with this much cold authority.

"You lied to me," I whispered, stepping closer to the bed, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. "You brought a lethal drug into this house. You poisoned our son, you let him slice his own flesh on the ice because he couldn't feel his own bones, and then you locked him in a room to torture him mentally. You are a disgusting monster."

"Watch your tone in my house!" Richard roared, finally snapping. He stood up from the bed, his face turning red as he tried to use his height to intimidate me. "I am trying to protect the Hampton brand! If he sits out, the draft sponsors leave! We lose everything! I built this life for him!"

"You built a prison!" I shouted back, refusing to step back an inch. I pointed a trembling finger straight at his chest. "You used my father's inheritance and influence to build your corporate empire, and then you used that money to buy poison for my only child. You think you can trap him here for the next two weeks? You think you can force him back onto that ice?"

Richard glared at me, his chest heaving with rage. "He will do exactly what I say, Amelia. If you try to interfere, I will freeze every asset tomorrow morning. You and that boy will be sleeping on the streets before the legal papers are even processed. I own his career, and I own your life."

"You own nothing," I delivered the final blow, my voice completely steady and absolute. "The lawyers already have the hotel investigator reports, Richard. And tomorrow morning, they will have these medical charts. If you step within three feet of Kieran's bedroom door, I will not wait for a divorce court. I will call the police and have you arrested for domestic abuse and chemical endangerment of a minor. Try me."

Richard stood in the centre of the room, completely paralysed. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. The absolute power he had used to terrorise our household for decades had just been permanently shattered. He looked small. He looked utterly defeated in his own room.

I turned my back on him completely, walked out into the hallway, and locked his door from the outside.