Chapter 56 Side Quests
\-Lucien-
My mind reeled with every possible question I could think of as I drove back to the city.
Why was my father there? What’s his relationship with Vanessa Ashford? Who really is she? If Ivana is really Camille, then did Brad Miller know? Is that why he was murdered? Did they murder him?
The thought made my chest tighten so hard that I pulled over and let myself catch a breath.
A lot of things weren’t adding up.
I did a quick search on the internet for Camille Ashford. There wasn’t much about her, just an old photo of her and a brief detail about her death.
Camille Ashford, alongside her driver, died in a fatal car crash on her way to the hospital for her monthly checkup ... The family held a private funeral at their estate. She was survived by her husband and a daughter.
I let out a small sigh, there wasn’t anything helpful. At the same time, I typed in the Easton Family fire.
It was tragic.
An electrical fire that led to the death of three of four members of the Easton family... Names of minors withheld for privacy reasons.
I had to dig deeper. The name of the orphanage wasn’t listed, but it was in the file given to me by the mystery man. I just didn’t pay attention to it.
“Next stop, Angel Wings Children’s Home.”
\---
The orphanage was huge, looked relatively new, and was in good shape for something that had been around for the last thirty years or so.
At the front desk, I told them I was here to see the director for a private reason. There were no questions asked. After that, I was promptly led to her office.
Either they thought I was a parent looking to adopt or rather here to make a donation.
The director was all smiles when I walked in.
Bertha Mathew, introduced herself. “Director of this fine establishment.” She grinned.
“I’m Lucien. Lucien Blackwell.” I said with a polite smile.
“Blackwell, huh?” Her brows creased briefly, thinking, recalling. “As in, Reginald Blackwell?”
I nodded.
Her face beamed once again. “Are you…”
“Yes, I’m his youngest son,” I admitted. I knew it would help my case.
Her tone turned apologetic. “Oh my goodness, I can see the resemblance now. My apologies for not recognizing you sooner. Mr. Blackwell didn’t say anything about his son coming—”
“That’s alright. I didn’t inform him either… He talks so much about this place, and I just wanted to see it for myself…to know what makes him so happy about this place.
“Aw,” her hands flew to her chest, “that’s so kind of you.”
I nodded. My plan was set in motion.
Whatever relationship Vanessa Ashford had with my father had probably started from here.
“Your father has been a patron for over three decades, his donations have kept this place afloat…. He’s a good and kind man,” she said while I zoned out.
Good and kind were adjectives I’d never imagined would be used to describe my father.
“Would you like a tour?” She asked, snapping my mind back to the room.
That was easy.
“Yes, I’d love that.”
We began the tour of the 400-bed facility. The playground was fully equipped, bright, and buzzing with activity.
She mentioned they even had school buses to transport the kids.
The children ran around, laughing freely, completely unaware of anything else.
I couldn’t stop thinking—did my father smile at them… and then come home and treat me like I meant nothing?
After that, she led me through their Hall of Achievement. It was a photo gallery of kids who had once lived here. Some of them, big names in different industries.
At that moment, I spotted the full photograph of my father and Vanessa. The surroundings looked completely different, I pointed it out.
“Yes, this building was donated by your father and another patron a couple of years ago. The old block now functions as an art foundation.”
“Right,” I murmured as I pointed to Vanessa’s face. “Who is this?”
“Vanessa Easton, now Ashford. In the photo, she was a recipient of your father’s goodwill award.”
I’d never heard of such a thing.
“She was brought to us after losing her entire family in a tragic fire accident.” She began grimly.
“I know her… I didn’t realize she lost her entire family.”
Martha nodded. “It’s mostly private, but it was all over the news back then. Her childhood was really rough. She had an alcoholic father who abused their mother, who couldn’t do anything. In the end, Vanessa blamed herself for their death.”
My brows knitted curiously, “Why?”
“She says it’s her fault Ivana died.”
My heart skipped, but I kept my expression neutral.
“Ivana?”
“Yes, her younger sister, Ivana Easton. Vanessa said they made it out with their mom that night, but when she asked about their father, her mother rushed back in, and the eight-year-old went after her. She blames herself for asking her father that night,” she let out a sad sigh.
“It was all she could talk about, all she dreamed of. For months, she was a difficult child. Then she met your father, and he suddenly became the father she never really had.”
I listened.
“Through him, we were able to help her. She was a smart girl, and he invested a lot in her, and in no time, she was winning competitions. She was there till she turned eighteen. He even sent her to college. Though, I don’t know why he never formally adopted her….”
A valid question though.
After the tour, we went to her office, and I quietly made a donation.
“I would appreciate it if you kept this, and my presence here a secret.” I smiled.
“Thank you for letting me see this side of my father.”
The truth was certain now: the real Ivana Easton was dead.
I let out a small sigh as I slumped into the driver’s seat. I was exhausted, but I had gotten all I needed from all of these.
I pulled my phone to call Celeste, to clear my mind for a second. I had slipped out really early this morning, and without a word.
I paused midair.
This was never the plan.
I wasn’t supposed to get close to her.
But everything made it almost impossible. Every passing day, something—something small, something big—pulled me deeper into her orbit.
She didn’t make it any easier. She didn’t realize how much she scared me… or maybe she did.
Coming to my bedroom like that. Crying in my chest. Sleeping on my bed.
Damn it, Celeste. What the hell do you think you’re doing?
I let out a small sigh and decided on a text instead. A pep-text. Easier than hearing her voice over the phone.
Once it was sent, I forced my mind back to the mission at hand.
I need to see whoever was using Ivana’s identity and confirm who the hell she was.
I thought for a while.
From the files, Vanessa had switched psychiatric hospitals like buttons over the last couple of years.
I couldn’t waltz in there and ask to visit because Ivana was under her guardianship, she wouldn’t allow visitors.
“There has to be a way to get in there. Think Lucien. Think… How does one infiltrate an asylum without raising suspicion?”
Going in as a health personnel? I'd get caught in no time.
Suddenly, a strange plan crept into my mind.
“A renovation plan.”
It was crazy. It was expensive, but it would
n’t raise too much suspicion.
A quick search got me their email address, and I sent a message from my company account.
I framed it as a corporate expansion—our company was looking into long-term real estate investments in healthcare facilities. Legitimate. Non-suspicious. Completely in line with what we did.
I clicked send and let out a small sigh.
Now it was out of my hands.
Dr. Ian Howe at Westbridge Psychiatric Care Facility would see it.
And everything I needed to know about Camille would either start to fall into place… or I’d have to dig even deeper…
“Now we wait.”