Chapter 17 Lucas's Downfall Begins
Lucas's pov
It had been one year since I threw Lara out of my life.
And everything was falling apart.
"Mr. Ward, we need to talk about the quarterly reports."
I looked up from my desk at David, my CFO. The same guy who used to look at me with respect. Now he just looked... worried.
"What about them?"
"We're down forty percent from last year.
Three major clients pulled their contracts this month. And investors are asking questions."
"Tell them we're restructuring."
"I've been telling them that for more than six months. They're not buying it anymore."
I rubbed my temples. "Just... handle it. That's what I pay you for."
David left without another word.
I stared at the reports spread across my desk.
Red numbers everywhere and I'm tired.
The company was dying.
Without Richard's patents, without his technology and without his brilliant mind behind the innovations... we had nothing.
I'd been selling off his ideas for a year, trying to make it look like we were still creating new things.
But everyone knew it, it was obvious that things were falling apart.
Ward Industries was built on stolen genius.
And now that genius was gone.
"Lucas, we need to talk."
I looked up from my second whiskey to find Lisa standing in the doorway of my home office.
She looked perfect as always. Her hair done. Her makeup looking flawless. Designer dress that probably cost more than most people's rent.
"What?"
"I'm going to Paris next week. Fashion Week."
"Okay. Have fun."
"For three weeks."
I set down my glass. "Three weeks?"
"I have meetings. Photoshoots. Events." She examined her nails. "You understand."
"Sure. Whatever."
She didn't move.
"What, Lisa?"
"I need money. For the trip."
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand should cover it."
I laughed. Actually laughed. "Fifty thousand dollars? For a trip?"
"I have appearances to maintain, Lucas. I can't show up looking so cheap."
"We're bleeding money right now. The company is—"
"I don't care about your company," Lisa snapped. "I care about my career. Now are you giving me the money or not?"
I stared at her.
This woman I'd destroyed my marriage for.
This woman I'd chosen over Lara.
She didn't love me. Never had.
She just loved what I could give her.
And now that I couldn't give her much anymore?
She was already looking for the exit.
"Fine," I said. "Take the money."
"Thank you, darling." She blew me a kiss and left.
I poured another drink.
My mother showed up unannounced the next day.
She barged into my office like she owned the place.
Which, technically, she partially did.
"Lucas, we need to talk."
"Not now, Mother—"
"Yes, now!" She slammed her purse on my desk. "Do you know what I just heard at the club?"
"I don't—"
"The Hendersons are pulling their investment. The Chens are talking about selling their shares. Everyone is saying Ward Industries is finished."
"It's not finished. We're just going through a rough time.
"You threw away the golden goose!" Claire screamed.
I'd never seen her this angry.
"You had everything! A brilliant wife with a tech empire at her fingertips! Her father's patents! His connections! His legacy! And you threw it all away for what? A model?"
"I thought—"
"You didn't think! You never think! You just do whatever feels good in the moment without considering consequences!"
"Mother—"
"Where is Lara now?"
"I don't know."
"Find her."
"What?"
"Find her and bring her back. You have to apologize,beg. Do whatever you have to do. We need her, Lucas. We need her company."
"She's not coming back. I divorced her already.
"
"Then un-divorce her! I don't care! Fix this mess you created!"
She stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.
I sat there in the silence.
Fix it.
Like it was that simple.
Like I could just snap my fingers and erase a year of cruelty.
That evening, Veronica and Natasha came over for dinner.
I thought maybe they would be supportive.
They weren't.
"This is delicious," Natasha said, eating the meal the housekeeper prepared.
"Remember when Lara used to cook? She made that amazing lasagna."
"Don't," I warned.
"What? I'm just saying, she was useful. She cooked, she cleaned, she actually cared about this family."
"And you threw her out like garbage," Veronica added. "Honestly, Lucas, that was your dumbest move yet."
"I didn't come here for this."
"Where else are you going to go? Your company is failing. Your wife is probably remarried by now. You've got nothing."
"Lisa—"
Veronica laughed. "Lisa? Please. She's already cheating on you. Everyone knows that."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"Oh, you didn't know?" Natasha smiled sweetly. "She's been seeing that photographer. The one from Milan. It's all over the society pages."
"You're lying."
"Check your phone. I'll text you the article."
I checked my phone and I saw it.
Photos of Lisa with some guy. Leaving a restaurant. Getting into his car.
The caption read: "Supermodel Lisa Vale Spotted With New Flame—Trouble in Paradise?"
I felt sick.
"We should have kept Lara around," Veronica said. "At least she was loyal."
"Get out," I said angrily.
"Lucas—"
"Get out of my house!"
They left, whispering to each other.
I sat alone in that big empty dining room.
Everything was falling apart.
My company, my marriage, my family.
All because I wanted something I thought was better.
And it turned out to be nothing.
I started drinking more and working less.
What was the point?
I hired a private investigator to find Lara.
"I need you to locate someone," I said over the phone. "Lara Montgomery, she used to be Lara Ward."
"I'll see what I can find."
Weeks passed nothing happened, no information.
It was like she'd disappeared off the face of the earth.
No social media posts,no public records, nothing was surfacing.
Where the hell was she?
Three months later, I was drunk and alone at 2am when my phone rang.
The PI.
"Mr. Ward? I found something."
"About Lara?"
"No. About your father-in-law. Richard Montgomery."
I sat up. "What about him?"
"I was digging into your wife's disappearance and I came across his medical records. There are... irregularities."
"What kind of irregularities?"
"His decline was too fast. Stage four pancreatic cancer should take longer. But he went from diagnosis to death in six months. That's unusual."
"So?"
"So I had a friend in forensics look at it. Mr. Ward, there are signs that he was poisoned. Arsenic, specifically. Someone was giving it to him slowly, probably in his medication."
The room started spinning.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying Richard Montgomery didn't just die from cancer. Someone was poisoning him and accelerating his death."
"Who?"
"I don't know yet. But the poison had to be administered regularly. By someone with access to his medications.”
I hung up.
My hands were shaking.
Someone poisoned Richard.
Someone with access to his medications.
Someone who wanted him dead.
I thought about the months before Richard died.
About my mother visiting him constantly.
"Just checking on poor Richard," she'd say.
About how she'd bring him his pills with water.
"You need to rest, Richard. Take your medicine."
Oh God.
Oh God no.
My mother.
My mother killed him.
I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
When I finally looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back.
Bloodshot eyes. Unshaven face. Wrinkled clothes.
I looked like hell.
But I felt worse.
Because I'd known something was off.
I'd seen my mother with those medications.
I'd heard her talking about how much easier things would be when Richard was gone.
And I'd done nothing.
I'd let it happen.
I was an accomplice to murder.
I gripped the sink, my whole body shaking.
What had I become?
I'd stolen from Lara. Abused her. Thrown her out pregnant.
Helped murder her father.
Destroyed everything good in my life for money and status and a woman who didn't even love me.
I was a monster.
And now? Now I was going to pay for it.
Because secrets like this don't stay buried forever.
Eventually, the truth comes out.
And when it did?
I was going to lose everything.
Whatever was left, anyway.
I slid down to
the bathroom floor and put my head in my hands.
"What have I done?" I whispered to the empty room.
"What the hell have I done?"
But the room had no answers.
Just silence.
And the crushing weight of guilt I'd been trying to ignore for a year.
It wasn't going away.
It was just getting heavier.
And I deserved every ounce of it.