Chapter 18
Lucas's expression darkened.
His mind returned to that scene in the study this afternoon. Juliana pointing at the photograph in the album, her emotions running high, eyes reddening with anger and pain.
"Can't you see how unhappy your son is in that photograph! You handed him over to someone he's not even close to—did you ever ask how he felt about it? You're doing a terrible job as a father!"
In that moment, the fury and heartache on her face had seemed far more genuine, far more visceral, than anything he'd shown as the child's actual father.
How long had this woman even been in the picture? She'd waltzed in and effortlessly earned his son's complete trust, even made him fantasize about having her as his mother. And she'd stood right in front of him, calling him an inadequate father to his face.
Some nameless irritation mixed with indescribable restlessness surged up from the depths of Lucas's chest.
The study at the Sharp Estate fell deathly quiet. Paul escorted Matthew back to his room, leaving Lucas alone with his thoughts.
He sat in silence for a long while. Then an absurd idea suddenly surfaced in his mind—if Dami liked Juliana this much, having her become the boy's mother wasn't entirely impossible. The Sharp family certainly had the money to support another woman.
...
Late at night, Matthew sat cross-legged on the carpet as his children's smartwatch lit up with an encrypted message from Damian.
[How'd it go how'd it go? Did they kick out that bad woman?]
Matthew's small fingers flew across the screen. [Yeah. Daddy was really angry. He talked to me and asked what kind of mommy I liked.]
On the other end, in the hospital room, Damian nearly bounced off the bed when he read those words. He kept his voice to an excited whisper as he sent back an audio message. "Phase one complete! Now we move to phase two: 'Get Mommy and Daddy engaged'!"
Matthew watched the sound waves pulse on the screen, his small face expressionless as ever. [How do we make them like each other? Got any ideas?]
"Listen up." Damian's voice carried a note of triumph. "His sleeping pills are in the top drawer of the nightstand in the master bedroom. Small brown bottle. Go check the kitchen storage cabinets—there's definitely Grandmother's vitamin C tablets in there. Little white pills, look pretty similar. Switch them out!"
[Okay.]
Matthew didn't ask why. Lucas was a big, strong adult anyway. He could handle a little vitamin C.
"Remember, don't get caught! Get in, get it done, get out!"
Matthew tucked away his watch and stood up from the carpet. He cracked open his door silently, poking his head out to check both directions. The hallway stretched empty in the dim light.
He slipped into the kitchen, stood on tiptoes to pull open the high storage cabinet, and sure enough found a bottle of vitamin C tucked in a corner. He tipped a few tablets into his palm, quietly closed the cabinet, then headed straight for the master bedroom on the second floor with clear purpose.
Lucas's bedroom door wasn't fully closed. Dim light spilled out from inside. Matthew peered through the gap—Lucas stood at the massive floor-to-ceiling window on the phone, his silhouette radiating irritation.
Matthew slipped inside, crouching low behind the wide bed frame and crawling his way to the nightstand. He pulled open the drawer and found the small brown medicine bottle. With careful precision, he unscrewed the cap, dumped the pills into his pocket, stuffed in the vitamin C tablets, replaced the cap, and put everything back exactly where it had been.
Mission accomplished.
He was just about to retrace his steps when Lucas hung up the phone, footsteps heading directly toward the bed. Matthew's heart lurched. He immediately held his breath, pressing his small body deeper into the shadows beneath the bed.
Lucas sat on the edge of the bed with a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He picked up the tampered medicine bottle, shook out a tablet, and without the slightest suspicion, swallowed it with water.
Beneath the bed, Matthew watched every detail through the gap in the bed skirt. He waited patiently until Lucas's breathing grew steady and even overhead, indicating sleep. Only then did he crawl out like a little gecko, all four limbs working in silent coordination, and sneak back to his own room.
...
At Central Hospital, Juliana was on the phone with Joshua, discussing school arrangements for "Matty."
"What about Saint Laurent International? Best security in all of Nexus City, top-tier faculty. The admission requirements are pretty steep, though."
"That one." Juliana didn't hesitate. "Handle the enrollment paperwork for me, would you?"
She hung up and turned to find Damian staring at her with wide, anxious eyes.
"Mommy, Saint Laurent... that's a boarding school, isn't it?"
Juliana smiled and ruffled his hair. "That's right, but Mommy will visit you all the time."
Damian immediately threw his arms around her. "I don't want to board! I don't want to leave Mommy! I want to come home every day! I want to see Mommy every single day!"
The sudden clinginess turned Juliana's heart to complete mush. Of course—he was still so young, at an age when he desperately needed security and stability. How could she even think about sending him to boarding school?
"Okay, okay, no boarding." She rushed to reassure him, holding him close. "We'll come home every day. Mommy will cook you delicious food every single day."
Watching her son's smile return made all her exhaustion evaporate.
Inside, Damian was mentally cheering. Perfect! Saint Laurent was the school he'd been attending all along! If he wasn't boarding, he could slip away after school every day and switch places with Matthew! The plan was coming together beautifully.
...
Deep into the night at the Sharp Estate, Lucas sat up in bed, agitated and wide awake. Three in the morning already. He'd swallowed two sleeping pills, but instead of drowsiness, his head was splitting with pain.
The afternoon confrontation in the study with Juliana, Bianca's crying scene, and his son's words—"If Dr. Wells were my mother, that would be wonderful"—all played on repeat in his mind like a nightmarish carousel. Especially the image of Juliana pointing right in his face, calling him irresponsible. In those cool, clear eyes, there'd been a fire he'd never seen before. That fierce emotion erupting on behalf of a child had been so visceral, so genuine, it had actually shaken him.
He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, threw back the covers, and walked to the liquor cabinet. Half a glass of whiskey disappeared in one burning swallow, the liquid sliding down his throat but doing nothing to suppress the inexplicable restlessness simmering inside him.
He picked up his phone, thinking about having his assistant contact his private doctor. His finger scrolled through the contacts but came to a stop on one name, almost of its own accord.
[Juliana]
Paul had dug up this number for him earlier.
Lucas stared at those letters on the screen, her stubborn, pale face floating unbidden to the surface of his mind.
She was a top-tier doctor, wasn't she?