Chapter 26
Lucinda pushed open the door to the Douglas Estate. The living room lights were still on.
Valencia sat on the sofa, holding a cup of tea that had already gone cold. The moment she heard the door, she stood up, her anxious expression instantly transforming into joy when she saw Lucinda.
"Cindy's back!" She hurried over, her gaze sweeping over her daughter to confirm she was safe, and only then did she relax. "Why so late? I was worried sick."
Wesley emerged from the study, a document still in hand—clearly, he'd rushed out the moment he heard the commotion.
He looked at Lucinda and said nothing, only nodded. "Good that you're back."
Valencia pulled Lucinda toward the living room, chattering away. "Are you hungry? I had Uma save some soup for you—it's been kept warm. And fruit, fresh in today. You should try some."
She fussed over her as if Lucinda had been on a long journey.
The coffee table was loaded with things: a tureen of soup, a bowl of cut fruit, several delicate pastries, and a glass of milk at just the right temperature.
Lucinda looked at the spread, then at Valencia's face, which practically screamed "eat, eat!" The corner of her mouth lifted. "Thank you, Mom."
Valencia's eyes lit up instantly. Her smile was radiant. "No need to thank me. Don't be formal with me. Drink the soup while it's warm—it won't taste as good once it cools."
Dahlia sat at the other end of the sofa, clutching a magazine, her smile barely holding.
From the moment Lucinda walked through the door, her gaze hadn't left her.
The way Valencia rushed to greet her. The way Wesley came out of the study. And all the treatment laid out on the coffee table—treatment Dahlia herself had never received.
Her smile was plastered on like a mask, but the jealousy in her eyes was thick enough to overflow.
"Lucinda's back." Her voice was syrupy sweet. "Was the auction fun?"
Lucinda glanced at her, acknowledged her flatly, and picked up the soup to take a sip.
Dahlia's smile faltered. Her fingers pressed into the magazine page, leaving a crease.
Acting like that? This country bumpkin couldn't even get through the auction hall doors!
She took a deep breath, forcing down the bitterness rising in her throat, and stood up. "Mommy, Dad, I'm heading upstairs to rest. I'm a bit tired."
Valencia didn't even look back. "Go ahead. Sleep early."
Dahlia turned toward the stairs, each step measured and steady, but her fingers gripped her skirt so tightly her knuckles turned white.
She'd just reached the staircase when hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance hall.
The butler rushed in, face tense. "Mr. Douglas, Mrs. Douglas—someone from the Lancaster family is here."
The atmosphere in the living room shifted instantly.
Dahlia froze at the foot of the stairs, her face draining of color.
The Lancaster family.
Her mind instantly jumped to the medicine she'd sent today...
Reginald must be here to hold her accountable!
Her reaction was instantaneous. She spun around and bolted upstairs, her steps as frantic as if she were fleeing for her life. She disappeared around the landing in seconds.
Valencia didn't notice her. Her attention was entirely on the butler. "The Lancaster family? Who?"
"Mr. Reginald Lancaster." The butler's tone grew more respectful. "He's already at the entrance."
Wesley set down his document, brow furrowing slightly.
Reginald—the head of the Lancaster Group.
Coming here in person at this hour?
"Show him in." He straightened his collar and strode toward the entrance.
Valencia quickly stood as well, smoothing her hair, then turned to Lucinda. "Cindy, go upstairs. We have a guest—"
Before she could finish, footsteps echoed from the entrance hall.
Reginald strode in, his dark gray coat still on, shoulders carrying the chill of the night wind. His entire presence radiated the kind of authority that came from long years at the top.
The Douglas Estate's living room was spacious, but when he stepped into it, even the air seemed to grow heavier.
Wesley moved forward, his face wearing the composed confidence befitting the head of the Douglas family.
He'd weathered countless storms, but Reginald was someone who demanded his full attention.
"Mr. Lancaster, it's quite late. To what do we owe this visit?" Wesley's voice was steady, neither servile nor arrogant.
Valencia stood beside her husband, a polite smile on her face, though her eyes carried a trace of wariness.
Her gaze flicked instinctively toward Lucinda. Her daughter had just come home—please, don't let there be trouble.
Reginald gave a slight nod and got straight to the point. "Mr. Douglas, pardon the late intrusion. I've come regarding the marriage contract. I'm here to see Ms. Douglas."
Here to see their daughter?
Wesley and Valencia's expressions changed simultaneously.
Valencia's hand clenched unconsciously. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind.
Cindy just got back. After all those years away, could she have accidentally offended the Lancaster family?
Reginald coming in person—was he here to demand accountability?
She instinctively stepped forward half a pace, positioning herself to shield Lucinda.
Wesley also moved forward, his tone harder than before. "Mr. Lancaster, Cindy is the biological daughter we just found. She's been adrift for twenty years and has suffered greatly. If she's offended the Lancaster family in any way, whatever the matter is, we can discuss it. As her parents, we'll take responsibility for her."
Husband and wife stood one in front of the other, shielding Lucinda behind them, their faces screaming, "You'll have to go through us first to get to our daughter."
The Douglas family's confidence was unwavering. Even if the person standing before them was Reginald, they would never allow their daughter to be wronged.
Lucinda sat on the sofa, still holding her bowl of soup, watching the two figures standing before her. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.
In her twenty years with the Wipere family, no one had ever stood in front of her like this.
She lowered her head, took another sip of soup, and the corner of her mouth curved slightly. She said nothing.
Reginald looked at Wesley and Valencia's battle-ready stance and froze for a moment. Then it clicked—they thought he was here to cause trouble.
But wait—he remembered the Douglas family's heiress was named Dahlia. Who was Cindy?
He frowned, about to clarify. "I'm here to break off the engagement..."
Just then, his gaze inadvertently drifted past their shoulders and landed on the sofa in the center of the living room.
And he stopped cold.
Sitting on the sofa was a young woman—white knit sweater, black slacks, hair casually tied back.
She held a bowl of soup, relaxed and at ease. The coffee table before her was laden with soup, fruit, pastries, and milk—like she was being waited on like a little princess.
Reginald's pupils contracted slightly.
Lucinda?
Almost instinctively, he took half a step forward—then stopped himself abruptly.
Those eyes, so accustomed to controlling everything, showed a rare moment of confusion.
How was she here?
Then Wesley's earlier words replayed rapidly in his mind.
Cindy. Biological daughter. The Douglas family's heiress.
The pieces of information connected in his mind like puzzle pieces snapping into place with a crisp click.
Reginald's eyes lit up instantly.
So that's it.
She was the Douglas family's daughter—his legendary fiancée.
Something surged in his eyes, finally blooming across his face into a smile so gentle it seemed out of place.
Wesley and Valencia noticed his change in demeanor. They glanced back at Lucinda, then turned to face him again.
Valencia spoke cautiously. "Mr. Lancaster?"
Lucinda felt that burning gaze. She looked up and met Reginald's eyes.
His gaze was too direct—so direct it felt like he was trying to absorb her entirely.
Her hand holding the soup bowl paused briefly, but she quickly resumed, lowering her head to continue drinking, expression neutral, as if she'd seen nothing.
But the tips of her ears quietly turned a faint shade of red.
Reginald's smile deepened. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, and turned back to Wesley and Valencia.
His voice was much softer than before, carrying an unusual patience and sincerity. "Mr. Douglas, Mrs. Douglas, you've misunderstood."
He paused, his gaze drifting toward Lucinda again despite himself. "I'm not here to cause trouble for Ms. Douglas."
Wesley and Valencia exchanged glances but didn't move aside. Their wariness didn't diminish in the slightest.
Reginald straightened, his voice low and resolute. "I'm here to break off the engagement with your adopted daughter. And then—"
His gaze landed on Lucinda for the third time—tender in a way that didn't suit the business world's Grim Reaper, more like someone who'd waited a long time and finally found what they'd been searching for.
"—to fulfill the engagement with the Douglas family's true heiress."
The living room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.