Chapter 60
Juliana was stung by the suspicion in his eyes. She shoved him away violently, her chest heaving.
"I didn't!"
"Didn't?" Lucas sneered. Suddenly, a thought struck him without warning, threading all the clues together.
Her unusual warmth and patience toward Damian. Her obvious favoritism toward that child... Perhaps there was another reason.
"You're so good to Dami..." The man's voice dropped to a whisper, carrying a chill that made Juliana's blood run cold. "Is that also because of him?"
Because Damian was Logan's nephew. Because she loved him by extension?
The words detonated in Juliana's mind like a thunderclap.
All her explanations, all her grievances, became utterly meaningless in that instant.
So... this was what he thought.
She suddenly laughed. Laughed until tears streamed down her face.
"Yes." She looked at him, enunciating each word clearly. "You guessed right."
Since he wouldn't believe her anyway, why bother explaining?
Let him think that.
The color drained from Lucas's face in an instant.
"Get out." The words scraped through his clenched teeth.
Juliana didn't hesitate. She unbuckled her seatbelt, shoved the door open, and climbed out.
Behind her, the engine's roar tore through the night. The black Bentley shot away like an enraged beast.
Cold wind whipped through her thin gown, but Juliana felt nothing.
She didn't know how long she walked before a flashy white sports car glided silently beside her.
The window lowered, revealing Logan's smiling face.
"Did my brother kick you out? Tsk, how pitiful."
Juliana stopped and looked at him coldly.
"Don't look at me like that. I know my brother's temper. His possessiveness is pathological. He can't tolerate a single grain of sand in his eye. Especially when that grain of sand is me."
"Though it is kind of interesting. He's been tangled up with that Bianca woman for seven years. She practically lived at the Sharp family estate, and he never thought anything of it. But this thing between you and me that ended ages ago? He can't let it go."
Logan's words hit like a bucket of ice water.
He was right.
What gave Lucas the right to interrogate her like this?
He'd kept Bianca by his side for years but demanded she be a blank slate.
What kind of logic was that?
"See? You get it now." Logan seemed to read her mind, grinning like a viper. "Men are all hypocrites."
He opened the car door, gesturing inside.
"It's freezing out here. Walking around in an evening gown, you'll make tomorrow's headlines. Get in. I'll take you home."
Juliana looked at Logan's smiling face, nausea churning in her stomach.
She stepped back, creating distance. "My business is none of your concern."
Behind her came Logan's ambiguous laugh. The sports car's engine roared and quickly vanished into the night.
The night wind blew, carrying bone-deep cold, but she felt nothing.
He'd asked what her ulterior motives were in approaching him.
He'd asked if she treated Dami well because of Logan.
That maternal love she'd treasured and carefully protected—he'd trampled it into the mud without a second thought.
How laughable.
A cold drop landed on her cheek.
She looked up. Another drop fell, then another.
It was raining.
She didn't know how she made it back to the villa.
When she pushed open the door, the living room blazed with light. Paul, who'd been dozing, startled awake. Seeing her condition, he jumped up in alarm.
"Ms. Wells! What happened to you?"
Paul rushed over with a dry towel. "Quick, take a hot shower before you catch cold!"
"I'm fine." Her voice was barely audible. "I just want to be alone."
With a bang, she locked herself in her bedroom.
In the darkness, physical cold and emotional cold intertwined, making her shake uncontrollably.
Her head felt heavy, her eyelids heavier. Consciousness gradually blurred.
……
She didn't know how much time passed before regular knocking sounded at the door.
"Mommy? Mommy, are you asleep?"
Juliana struggled to open her eyes. She tried to respond but couldn't make a sound.
"Paul said you came home. Mommy, please open the door. It's me, Matty."
Outside, Matthew knocked for a while longer, but there was still no response.
He turned and ran downstairs, then quickly ran back up, holding a set of spare keys.
The door opened.
Matthew immediately spotted the figure curled up on the floor behind the door.
"Mommy!"
He didn't cry or panic. Instead, he calmly turned on the light, then ran downstairs to the medicine cabinet. He found fever medication and a thermometer, then poured a glass of warm water.
He tucked the thermometer under her armpit. After a few minutes, he checked it. Just as he thought—she had a fever.
His small face set with determination, he carefully helped Juliana sit up and brought the pill and water to her parched lips.
"Mommy, take the medicine."
At her son's urging, Juliana's foggy consciousness cleared slightly.
She obediently opened her mouth and swallowed the pill with water.
Looking at the small face filled with worry, her heart felt squeezed by an invisible hand—aching and sour.
What had she been doing?
She'd made herself this miserable over a man who didn't trust her. And now she was sick.
She'd forgotten why she'd returned to the country. Forgotten she had a son waiting for her to fight for him.
She'd actually been naive enough to believe that man would keep his promise and give Dami back to her.
What a terrible mother.
"Matty..." Her voice came out hoarse and ragged. "I'm sorry. Mommy's not doing well."
Matthew shook his head, reaching out his small hand to touch her face, comforting her like a little adult. "Mommy's not bad. You're sick. You need to rest."
He helped her onto the bed and tucked her in.
Watching her son's small figure bustling around, Juliana's eyes grew hot. Tears slid silently down her cheeks.
Yes. She still had her son.
She couldn't fall apart.
Just then, a commotion erupted downstairs—the sound of things being moved, unfamiliar voices.
"Careful. These are Mr. Sharp's things. Don't damage anything."
Juliana's heart lurched. Supporting her weakened body, she walked to the window.
Outside the villa, a moving company truck sat parked.
Several men in work uniforms were carrying packed boxes out of the villa and loading them onto the truck.
She recognized those boxes. They were from Lucas's study.
He was moving out.