Chapter 247

Chapter 247
Lucien’s fingers tightened around the phone so hard his knuckles went white.

“Good,” he muttered. Then: “Track the security personnel. Anyone who let her inside without approval, interrogate them. Quietly or loudly, I don’t care.”

The elevator door opened.

“Sir,” one subordinate said cautiously, “should we alert the police?”

Lucien shot him a look like he was stupid.

“I said destroy her. Not give her the chance to negotiate.”

They all stiffened.

“Understood.”

Lucien stepped into the elevator, the doors closing around him like the sealing of a battlefield.

Within an hour, every Weng asset began to tremble.

Auditor teams swarmed their subsidiaries.

Lawyers began drafting injunctions and seizure notices.

Anonymous reports of corruption landed on government desks.

Competitors received quiet invitations to tear apart Weng holdings.

Digital leaks of Arabelle’s hidden bank accounts began circulating among authorities.

By noon, the Weng Group’s stock dipped. By 1 PM, it plummeted. And Arabelle, wherever she was hiding, felt the earthquake.

Lucien sat in his black ops control room, a place only a handful of people had ever seen, walls of screens flashing data, maps, call logs, transactions.

He leaned back in his chair, hands steepled, expression carved out of obsidian.

“Status,” he demanded.

His cybersecurity chief spoke first: “We cracked her private server. Sir… she’s been tracking Serena for years. Movements, photos, medical files. Even...”

Lucien’s jaw flexed.

“Show me.”

Image after image appeared.

Serena entering universities.

Serena attending charity events.

Serena shopping.

Serena crying the night after Ethan and Lila were seen together.

Serena the night she was poisoned…

Lucien closed his eyes for a moment, controlling the wildfire beneath his ribs.

Then: “Prepare everything for release. And secure the originals. These will bury her.”

His financial division leader stepped forward.

“The Weng Group is unstable. If we pull our temporary holdings, they’ll collapse.”

Lucien’s voice was frighteningly calm.

“Pull. Everything.”

The man hesitated. “That will bankrupt them.”

“Correct.”

Then another update.

“Sir… Arabelle sent out several emergency messages. She’s trying to reach Adrian.”

Lucien’s eyes snapped open, dangerously sharp.

“Intercept them. Redirect her messages. I want her isolated. Alone.”

“Yes, sir.”

Inside the Weng estate, board members panicked.

Screens flashed red.

Phones rang nonstop.

Executives shouted over one another.

“Why are our accounts frozen...?!”

“What is happening..?!”

“This is a financial kill shot!”

“Who did we offend...?!”

A trembling secretary finally answered: “Lucien Feng, sir… he’s... he’s retaliating.”

Arabelle’s dad blanched. “This can’t be happening....!”

Someone ran into the room.

“Sir! Someone just leaked... everything!”

“What everything?!”

Footage. Records. Files. Medical documents. Secret accounts. Meilin’s disappearance logs. Arabelle’s crimes. Bared open to the world.

The Weng name collapsed in real time.

BUT LUCEN ISN’T DONE

“Sir,” his head of security said, “your orders?”

Lucien leaned forward, eyes glowing with lethal intent.

“Find Arabelle.”

The man nodded.

“Alive?”

Lucien’s voice dropped to a whisper:

“For now.”

The discharge papers were signed just as dusk washed gold over the hospital windows.

Serena hovered protectively beside her mother, refusing to let any nurse wheel her out without checking every strap, every buckle, every line of the chair. Mrs. Lin, embarrassed but touched, kept murmuring, “I’m fine, sweetheart… really…”

But Serena’s hands trembled faintly on the handles. No, she wasn’t fine. Not when Arabelle had wormed her way so close. Not when an inch more could have taken her mother from her forever.

Then the double doors slid open...

Lucien stood there.

A tall, sharply dressed force of wrath contained only by the need to hold himself steady for Serena’s sake. One look at the two women he loved most, and the ice in his expression softened into something warm, protective, and terrifyingly determined.

“Ready to go home?” he asked quietly.

Serena nodded, though her throat was tight.

Lucien stepped forward and lifted Mrs. Lin gently out of the wheelchair before anyone could protest. “You’re staying with us,” he said. “At Hillside. I’ve already arranged a private medical team to rotate there.”

Mrs. Lin blinked. “Lucien, I don’t want to be any trouble...”

“You’re family,” he replied simply. “And family stays where it’s safest.”

Serena’s chest clenched, and not from fear this time.

He carried her mother all the way to the car himself.

Not the driver.

Not a bodyguard.

Lucien.

His arm secure around her as if nothing, and no one would ever touch her again.

Inside the car, Serena slid beside her mother while Lucien shut the door behind them with a soft click. He didn’t sit up front. He sat beside Serena, his hand immediately finding hers beneath the shared blanket covering her lap.

Mrs. Lin watched them quietly, her expression softening despite her exhaustion.

The ride to Hillside Estate was silent but heavy with shared understanding. Serena leaned subtly into Lucien, and he adjusted his hold without saying a word.

They didn’t need words.

Not tonight.

When the gates of Hillside swung open, security patrolled in doubled numbers, Lucien’s order. The estate glowed warm against the late evening, lights already on, curtains drawn, the home turned into the sanctuary they needed.

Lucien carried Mrs. Lin inside, directing the maids in quiet commands.

“Prepare the east wing suite. Extra rails in the bath. And call Doctor, I want her here in twenty minutes.”

“Lucien…” Mrs. Lin tried again.

But he shook his head. “Please. Let me take care of you.”

Serena reached for her mother’s hand. “Just stay for a few days, mama. Please. For me.”

That did it.

Mrs. Lin nodded and allowed Lucien to settle her into the guest suite, now fully transformed into something that looked less like a guest room and more like a personal recovery suite.

When the doctor arrived, Lucien stayed through the assessment, arms folded, his gaze cold with promise.

Protective.

Coiled.

Ready for war.

Only after Mrs. Lin finally drifted into sleep did he guide Serena out into the dim hallway lit by soft sconces.