Chapter 213
Over the next hour, the two of them posed in scene after scene—under a canopy of stars, in fields of flowers, along a moonlit corridor, beside the Milky Way Lake—capturing couple after couple of shots.
When the final set wrapped, the photographer looked down at the viewfinder and gave a satisfied nod. "Mr. Lancaster, we're done. The results are excellent. Better than I expected."
Lucinda walked over to a nearby chair and sat down, letting out a long breath.
After shooting for over an hour, she was genuinely tired.
She lowered her head and rubbed her ankle. The bench beside her dipped slightly as a hand reached over and gently lifted her foot.
Reginald knelt in front of her, cradling her ankle in one palm while his other hand pressed lightly against the sole of her foot. "Does it hurt?"
"No." She looked down at him. His fingers moved carefully, tenderly. "Doesn't kneeling like that hurt you?"
"I'm fine." He set her foot back down and stood, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Let me take you somewhere to rest. There's another chamber inside—the Flower Sea."
Lucinda tilted her head to look at him. "The Flower Sea chamber? Just how many of these did you build?"
"I didn't count." His tone was casual. "Ten or so. You rest first. When you're feeling better, we can take our time exploring."
She leaned into him, letting him guide her deeper down the corridor.
When the door to the Flower Sea chamber opened, her drowsiness vanished.
The dome was lower than the Starfield chamber, but it was draped with cascading vines and delicate petals. Beneath her feet was soft meadow grass, and the air carried the faintest trace of sweet fragrance—like spring after rain.
She stood in the doorway, taking in the warm glow filling the space. After a few seconds of silence, she said, "Just how many surprises do you have left?"
Reginald stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, his voice easy. "Not many. Just a few. Rest first."
Lucinda settled onto a lounge chair in the center of the chamber. She leaned back against the cushion, her eyelids finally beginning to droop.
Reginald sat beside her without a word, simply keeping her company in silence.
The chamber stayed quiet for a long while, the only sound the faint hum of the air circulation system.
Meanwhile, at the Douglas Estate.
Milton rolled over in bed and fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen.
9:47 a.m.
He bolted upright, raked a hand through his hair, and shuffled downstairs in his slippers.
The living room was empty except for Valencia, who sat on the sofa sipping tea. When she saw him stumbling in, she raised an eyebrow. "Finally awake?"
"Where's Cindy?"
"Out. Reginald picked her up. They left early this morning."
Milton froze mid-step, his expression shifting from groggy confusion to clear disappointment.
He stood at the foot of the stairs for two seconds, then mumbled something and dragged himself back upstairs.
Valencia watched his slumped shoulders and shook her head with a smile. "Your sister's not gone forever, you know."
"I know." Milton's voice was muffled. He stopped halfway up the stairs. "I'm heading to the lab. Still have some work to finish."
He changed his shoes and drove to the research institute.
The lab was empty—hardly anyone worked weekends. He sat alone at his workstation, opened his laptop, and started sorting through project files.
Two stacks of documents sat on his desk. He flipped through them one by one, scribbling notes in the margins, planning to reorganize all the core data.
After all, once Reginald's promised funding came through, the project's progress could easily double.
He was deep in concentration when his assistant pushed the door open, holding a folder.
"Mr. Douglas, the Lancaster Group contacted us this morning."
Milton didn't look up. "What'd they say?"
"They said the funding's been approved. Mr. Lancaster signed off on it himself. Finance is processing it now. But…"
The assistant hesitated. "Mr. Lancaster said the money's being transferred directly to Ridgeway Tech, filed under Ms. Lucinda Wipere's project number. If our institute wants to participate, we'll need to sign a joint R&D agreement with Ridgeway Tech. Ms. Wipere will be in charge of coordination."
Milton's pen stopped.
He slowly lifted his head and stared at his assistant, his voice incredulous. "What did you just say?"
The assistant set the folder on the desk and flipped to the first page. "It means the funding isn't going to our institute. It's going to Ridgeway Tech. We'd be collaborating with Ms. Wipere."
Silence hung in the air for three seconds.
Then Milton shot to his feet. His chair slid backward and slammed into the wall with a dull thud.
"Reginald!"
His voice exploded through the quiet lab, rattling the ceiling tiles.
"He said the money was for us! How did it end up going to Cindy instead? That's the same as giving me nothing! My sister's money isn't my money! He played me!"
The assistant took half a step back, holding the folder a little higher. "Mr. Douglas, please calm down. Mr. Lancaster's intention was—"
"His intention!" Milton was breathing hard, jabbing a finger toward the window. "He did this on purpose! All that talk about cooperation, about funding—he just doesn't want me anywhere near Cindy! You think I can't see what he's doing?"
He shoved the stack of documents aside and dropped back into his chair, chest still heaving. "Fine. Just fine. Reginald, you wait. I'm keeping score."
The assistant stood there quietly, collecting the folder and pretending he hadn't heard the muttered threat.
Meanwhile, in the Flower Sea chamber, Lucinda slept for nearly forty minutes.
When she opened her eyes, the vines overhead were still swaying gently. Warm light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, falling across her face like a thin veil of gold.
She turned her head. Reginald was still sitting beside her, barely having moved.
He was looking down at her, his gaze focused, as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"Awake?"
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"
"A little past eleven. Are you hungry?"
"Not really."
She stood from the lounge chair and rolled her shoulders. Reginald was already holding out a bottle of warm water.
She took it and sipped. The temperature was perfect—not too hot, not too cold.
Then he pulled a document from the inside pocket of his jacket and held it out to her.
This time she didn't take it. She just glanced down, her tone wary. "What now?"
"Just look."
He opened the document and flipped to the first page, pointing it out to her.
The title read: Ethereal Jewel Studio Retail Store Lease Agreement—Ridgeway Tech.
She scanned the first two lines. Her gaze froze.
The Lancaster Group's Starlight City Central Business District Tower, Floors 1–3. Fifty-one retail units total.
Lessee: Ethereal Jewel Studio.
Rent: Zero dollars.
Term: Ten years.
She looked up at him, a little dazed. "When did you do this?"
"Last week." His tone was matter-of-fact. "Your jewelry studio's been looking for good retail space, right? I happen to have some. It was just sitting empty anyway."