Chapter 176
Rachel's behavior caused a stir in the hospital lobby.
The onlookers initially didn't understand what was happening, just watching out of curiosity. But from the fragments of conversation between the two women, they began piecing things together.
When they heard Willow mention divorce and Rachel shouting about being pregnant, they constructed their own dramatic narrative.
"Can you believe how brazen mistresses are these days?" someone muttered.
"I've seen wives confronting mistresses, but never a mistress harassing a wife like this. Where does she get the confidence?"
"The mistress looks well-off. What's she after, anyway?"
The comments quickly reached Rachel's ears. Already furious, hearing these remarks pushed her over the edge.
"You don't know anything! I'm not the mistress! I knew Charlie first! She's the one who came between us! She's the intruder in our relationship!"
Her attempt to change public perception only invited more judgment.
Enraged, Rachel lunged toward Willow. "This is all your fault! You ruined everything! If only you didn't exist!"
Instinctively, Willow's first reaction was to protect her stomach before catching Rachel's wrist.
"Let go!" Rachel demanded, though her physical discomfort left her with little strength despite her efforts.
Willow's expression turned cold. "Rachel, haven't you made enough of a scene? Do you really think I can't handle you?"
As Rachel continued struggling, Willow lowered her voice to a whisper. "Your child was conceived the night of my wedding to Charles, wasn't it? Why do you think Charles suddenly agreed to a divorce after refusing for so long?"
Rachel froze, looking at her suspiciously.
Confirming Rachel was no longer threatening, Willow released her wrist. "If you harass me or my grandmother again, I won't hesitate to make what I know public. I mean it."
Without waiting for a response, Willow walked away.
Rachel stood rooted to the spot, watching Willow's retreating figure, her teeth chattering. If she understood correctly, Willow had seen everything that night! She might even have recorded it...
What else did Willow know? Rachel frantically reviewed every interaction, trying to remember what she might have revealed. Her panic grew with each recollection.
Then she abruptly rejected her own fears. Impossible! Willow must be bluffing! If she really had evidence, why wait until now to mention it? After such a long relationship with Charles, how could Willow have kept quiet all this time if she knew?
As Rachel stood lost in thought, she overheard more whispers from passersby.
"The wife has such presence—shut down that mistress with just a few words."
"The wife is prettier too, and has class. Don't know what men are thinking these days, looking elsewhere when they have someone like that at home."
"It's obvious—the mistress looks wealthy. Isn't that always what it comes down to with men?"
As the commenters walked past, Rachel clearly heard every word. Blood rushed to her head, and suddenly she felt a dampness between her legs.
"Are you pregnant?" A passing nurse immediately noticed her condition.
Rachel stood frozen, nodding vigorously, filled with dread.
"Stay right here. I'll bring a wheelchair!" the nurse instructed.
Rachel stood numbly, watching the nurse hurry away, her entire body trembling. Her baby... her baby couldn't be in danger...
Willow knew nothing of what happened after she left. She hadn't clearly heard Rachel's phone conversation, but could guess from her demeanor, especially now that she knew about her own pregnancy.
Rachel had always been hostile toward her, though she usually maintained a facade in public. She wouldn't have caused such a scene unless something was seriously wrong with her baby.
Whatever was happening with Rachel's pregnancy was no longer Willow's concern. She hoped Rachel was telling the truth—that Charles had promised to marry her because of the child. That would remove any obstacles to their divorce.
Leaving the hospital, Willow noticed darkness had fallen. She hailed a taxi and headed to Maria's place.
---
Meanwhile, at Lancaster Manor, a black Bentley glided through the gates.
As the car came to a stop, Sterling stepped out.
Peter, the butler, was already waiting. "Mr. Sterling Lancaster, Mr. Charles Lancaster arrived this afternoon. He's playing chess with Mr. Harold Lancaster."
Sterling showed no surprise. "I see. Is my brother here?"
Peter nodded.
They entered the main hall together.
Harold was indeed playing chess with Charles—Harold with black pieces, Charles with white. The white pieces were being soundly defeated.
Charles held a chess piece, smiling ruefully. "Grandfather, you're too skilled. I'm no match for you."
Harold looked completely at ease. "Playing with Ster is more interesting. You've always followed him around since childhood, imitating everything he does, yet you never picked up even the basics of chess."
Charles's expression soured instantly.
Wallace, standing beside Harold, quickly intervened. "Chess is like life. Charles is young and lacks experience. Compared to Ster, he's less calculating. Give him a few more years."
He was subtly elevating Charles while diminishing Sterling.
Harold, however, didn't read into it. "Ster has always been good at chess. Of all four of you siblings, only he had the patience to play with me."
Just then, Peter entered with Sterling.
Harold immediately called him over. "Perfect timing. Charles, see if Ster can save this game. Get up and let him take over."
Charles's fingers tightened around the chess piece until his knuckles turned white, but he obediently stood and yielded his seat.
Sterling sat down, glanced at the board, and confidently moved a piece. Soon, the previously disadvantaged white pieces began to revive.
Harold's interest visibly increased as he and Sterling engaged in a strategic battle.
Wallace and Charles stood behind them, looking like outsiders. They exchanged glances, neither appearing pleased.
Eventually, the game ended with Harold narrowly winning, putting him in excellent spirits.
Seeing Sterling's defeat, Charles and Wallace felt somewhat relieved.
As the servants prepared dinner, everyone moved to the dining table.
"Father, Charles's company has been doing well these past few years. Perhaps..." Wallace attempted to advocate for Charles during the meal.
Sterling cut him off coolly. "Wallace, we don't discuss business during dinner."