Chapter 12
Dahlia's tone carried just the right note of sympathy, but the corners of her eyes tilted up slightly.
"Now that you're home, make yourself comfortable. Don't be shy."
Make yourself comfortable.
The words came out so naturally.
Lucinda looked up at her briefly, said nothing, and picked up the steak with her fork, eating slowly.
Dahlia's lips curved upward. She was about to continue when she heard Valencia's voice trembling.
"Cindy..."
Lucinda looked up to see Valencia's eyes reddening, utensils resting against her bowl, staring at the mountain of food piled in Lucinda's dish, lips trembling slightly.
"When I think about you over there, not even getting a decent meal, my heart..." Valencia couldn't continue. She turned away to dab at her eyes.
Wesley set down his utensils, expression darkening.
He fell silent for a moment, then reached over to place a piece of ribs in Lucinda's bowl, voice low. "Cindy, what's past is past. From now on, whatever you want to eat, tell me. Anything at all."
Francis caught on quickly and hurried to place a piece of fish in Lucinda's bowl. "Right, just say what you want. I'll treat you. Michelin, seafood restaurants—your pick."
Dahlia's smile froze on her face.
Those words she'd said were meant to make Mom and Dad think Lucinda couldn't measure up—not to make them feel sorry for her!
"Oh, right." Wesley set down his utensils and pulled a black card from his pocket, sliding it toward Lucinda. "For the house—buy whatever you want to add. Don't hold back."
Valencia quickly rummaged through her purse for a bank card and placed it beside Lucinda's hand. "Mine too. The password is your birthday. For the estate next door—if you see something you like, buy it directly. Don't worry about the cost."
Dahlia's eyes widened instantly.
That black card—it was a Douglas Group subsidiary black card. No spending limit.
She'd begged for two years and Father never got her one.
Now he was just casually handing it over?
"And this." Francis pulled out a velvet box from his pocket and pushed it toward Lucinda. "Picked it up on the way back. See if you like it."
Lucinda opened the box. Inside lay a necklace—a delicate platinum chain with a teardrop-shaped sapphire pendant that glowed deep blue under the lights.
Dahlia's breath caught for a moment.
That necklace—she'd seen it in an auction catalog last month.
A Cartier original. The only one of its kind worldwide.
She'd mentioned it to Francis several times, asking him to help bid on it. Each time he'd said it wasn't appropriate.
Now the "inappropriate" necklace lay quietly in Lucinda's palm.
"This is too valuable." Lucinda closed the box and pushed it back. "I can't accept it."
Francis froze, brow furrowing slightly. "Why not? You're my sister."
"Exactly." Valencia quickly pushed her card forward again. "Cindy, take it. Don't be formal with us."
Wesley also nudged the black card closer. "Take them all. All these years you were away, we—"
Lucinda was about to say something when Francis stuffed the box back into her hands and slapped another bank card on the table. "Not enough? Take this one too."
Valencia panicked and pulled out another bank card from her purse. "Mine too—"
"Enough." Lucinda pressed down on the growing pile of bank cards, lips curved in a helpless smile. "I'll take them. I'll take them, okay?"
She gathered the cards and jewelry box together, eyes lowered, lashes casting faint shadows on her face.
Dahlia sat across from her, watching helplessly as Lucinda pocketed the pile of cards, lips pressed white.
She'd been in this family for twenty years. She'd never seen Mom, Dad, or her brothers treat her like this.
Lucinda put the items away and glanced up at Dahlia.
Dahlia's nails dug into her palms.
Lucinda did it on purpose!
As night deepened, Lucinda returned to her room and closed the door.
She walked to the window and pulled out her phone, dialing a number.
The call was answered after two rings.
"Lucinda!" The voice on the other end was both surprised and delighted. "You finally contacted me! I thought that family bullied you so badly they confiscated your phone!"
Lucinda's lips curved slightly. "You're overthinking it."
Her best friend, Tamsin Boleyn. Her childhood friend and one of the few people she could fully trust.
"Alright, as long as you're okay. Oh, I need to tell you something." Tamsin's tone grew serious. "Recently, people have been scrambling to get their hands on Solsticex. Did you know?"
Lucinda leaned against the window frame, voice calm. "No."
Tamsin sighed. "I'm telling you, the price for that drug has been driven sky-high. One pill is incredibly hard to find. Want to know the funniest part? The Wipere family is looking for it too."
Lucinda's gaze paused slightly.
Tamsin laughed coldly on the other end. "Your adoptive mother, Mrs. Wipere—didn't she get sick a few months ago? Even though you saved her, she still has some lingering effects. Apparently only Solsticex can treat it. Now she's searching everywhere, pulling every connection, offering insane prices."
Her voice carried undisguised schadenfreude. "Serves her right. She abandoned you, and now she remembers to beg for medicine? If she knew Solsticex was developed by you, I wonder what her face would look like."
Lucinda said nothing, gaze resting on the moonlight outside, eyes showing little emotion.
"And you know what the most ridiculous part is?" Tamsin grew more animated. "The Wipere family reached out through connections all the way to me. Straight up offered ten million dollars per pill, asking if I had channels. I almost laughed out loud."
"What did you say?"
"What could I say? I said no. I'm not stupid. The drug is yours. Whether to sell it or not is your call." Tamsin paused, tone softening. "Lucinda, you're not going soft, are you? That woman back then—she—"
"I won't." Lucinda cut her off, voice steady. "We'll talk about Solsticex later. I'm asking you—how much do you have on hand right now?"
Tamsin hesitated. "Not much. Maybe about ten pills. You know how complicated the production process is, and the materials are so rare. I've never dared stock too much."
"That's enough." Lucinda thought for a moment. "Prepare a full treatment series. I need it on my end."
"For who?" Tamsin's voice grew wary. "It's not for Gemma, is it? Lucinda, don't be foolish—"
"It's not." Lucinda's voice cooled. "It's for Grandma."
Silence fell on the other end of the line.
Tamsin's tone changed, no longer playful but carrying seriousness. "Your adoptive mother's side—that grandmother?"
"Yes."
"What happened to her? I remember three years ago you saved her life, didn't you?"
"I did, but she still needs long-term recovery care." Lucinda's voice softened slightly. "And she needs Solsticex for treatment. Without it, conventional therapy alone won't sustain her much longer."