Chapter 78

Chapter 78

Lucas's pupils contracted sharply.

Preston's confession hit him like a sledgehammer, striking hard against that nerve called possessiveness.

The nameless fury inside him blazed hotter, tinged with a flicker of panic and irritation he hadn't even recognized in himself.

"Respect?" Lucas laughed bitterly, his lips curving into a cruel smile. He clapped Preston on the shoulder, his tone dripping with mockery. "Since you're so devoted, when she has the baby and we get divorced, you can swoop right in and take care of her and the kid. Looking at you now, I'm sure you'll make a wonderfully attentive, faithful husband."

With that, he dropped his hand. Without even glancing at Preston's ashen face, he turned, yanked open the door, and strode out with cold arrogance.

At lunch, the atmosphere around the table was suffocating.

Sylvia only managed a few sips of soup before setting down her utensils.

Lucas sat across from her, his face dark throughout the meal. He didn't say a word.

As lunch wound down, Cleo set down her fork and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Her gaze swept between the two of them.

"Lucas." Cleo's voice was absolute, carrying the unquestionable authority of a family matriarch. "Sylvia has her routine prenatal checkup tomorrow. Clear your schedule and go with her yourself."

The moment Cleo's words fell, the table went silent.

Sylvia kept her eyes lowered, avoiding Lucas across from her. Her voice was calm. "Grandma, there's no need to trouble him. My mom will go with me tomorrow. He's busy with work—I don't want to take up his time."

"Nonsense!" Cleo's face darkened. Her cane struck the floor with a heavy thud. "A prenatal checkup is a serious matter. How can the father be absent? What would it look like if only your mother went? People would think the Smith family mistreated you!"

Sylvia pressed her lips together, about to respond, when Preston spoke up first. "Grandma, Lucas really is swamped at the company. How about this—I have the day off tomorrow. I can go with Sylvia to the hospital. We're all family. She'll have someone to look after her."

The second those words left his mouth, Lucas's expression plummeted.

He let out a cold laugh. His deep eyes turned glacial as they locked onto Preston, his tone dripping with scorn. "How thoughtful of you. Even eager to tag along to her prenatal appointments. What's the matter—are you that invested in another man's wife?"

Preston's face stiffened. His hand tightened around his utensils.

"Enough!" Cleo frowned, clearly finding Preston's suggestion improper. She shot him a sharp look. "You're her brother-in-law. What business do you have going to her checkup? People would laugh at us!"

Then, without room for argument, Cleo turned to Lucas. "This is settled. Tomorrow, you clear your schedule and go with Sylvia to the hospital yourself."

Lucas's jawline went rigid. He cast Sylvia a cold glance, as if all of this were some scheme she'd orchestrated.

He didn't argue with Cleo. He simply tossed his napkin onto the table with a dull thud.

---

The next day, at the hospital.

Emerald City Maternity Hospital, outside the VIP consultation room.

Sylvia didn't wait for Lucas. Early that morning, Rhea had accompanied her to the hospital instead.

The corridor was quiet. By the time Sylvia finished her series of tests, Lucas finally showed up.

He wore a sharp black suit, still carrying the cold edge of someone who'd just rushed over from the office. The faint weariness clinging to him made it clear he'd come straight from work.

When he saw Rhea helping Sylvia out of the examination room, his steps faltered. His brow furrowed out of habit.

The moment Rhea spotted Lucas, her expression turned icy. She didn't even bother greeting him—just turned her face away.

Inside the consultation room, the doctor held up the freshly printed test results. Her expression was serious as she looked at Lucas and Sylvia seated across from her.

"Ms. Spencer's pregnancy is still relatively stable for now, but given the complications earlier, and the fact that she's now in her third trimester, there's a risk of premature labor at any time." The doctor adjusted her glasses, her tone grave. "Mr. Smith, as her husband, you need to spend more time with her during this period. The hospital bag, the reserved bed—everything needs to be prepared in advance. Most importantly, she absolutely cannot be exposed to any stress. Emotional distress is a major trigger for preterm birth."

"Got it." Lucas's tone was perfunctory. His eyes stayed glued to his phone screen, as if he'd barely absorbed a word.

Sylvia sat quietly beside him, her hand resting on her swollen belly. Inside, she felt nothing.

She'd long since stopped expecting anything from this man. His indifference was something she'd grown used to.

Just then, Lucas's phone buzzed in his hand.

In the quiet consultation room, the sound was jarring.

Lucas glanced at the caller ID. His cold, sharp features visibly softened.

Without even acknowledging that the doctor was still speaking, he stood up and walked out of the room with his phone.

"Lynn." His lowered voice drifted back through the half-open door, laced with warmth and indulgence.

Rhea trembled with rage, grinding her teeth. "That bastard! His wife is in here listening to instructions about labor, and he's out there taking a call from his mistress!"

"Mom, don't get upset." Sylvia tugged gently on Rhea's hand. Her eyes were calm, like still water. "Let's go sit in the lounge. I'm a little tired."

Rhea was seething inside, but when she saw Sylvia's pale, exhausted face, she swallowed her anger.

She carefully helped Sylvia to her feet and led her toward the VIP lounge at the end of the hall.

The lounge was warm, the heat turned up. Sylvia had just settled onto the plush sofa and hadn't even taken a sip of water when the half-closed door was pushed open from the outside.

Lynn swept in wearing an expensive designer coat and stiletto heels, acting like she owned the place.

She'd just finished her call with Lucas outside and knew he'd gone to the nurses' station to pick up some paperwork. She'd timed this perfectly—coming here deliberately to needle Sylvia.

"Ms. Spencer, finished with your checkup?" Lynn sauntered over to stand in front of Sylvia, her gaze dropping to Sylvia's rounded belly. A malicious smile tugged at her lips.

Sylvia didn't even lift her eyes. She treated Lynn like she was nothing but air.

That complete dismissal stung Lynn's pride deeply.

She bit down on her teeth and leaned in closer, lowering her voice so only the two of them could hear. "Sylvia, your belly's gotten so big. You really need to be careful these days. I've heard that women in late pregnancy are the most prone to... accidents. Some babies seem perfectly fine, but then they're born dead. That would be such a tragedy, wouldn't it?"

The moment those words left her mouth, Sylvia's eyes turned ice-cold.

Her child was her bottom line. Anyone who dared curse her baby had just ignited the deepest fury inside her.

Sylvia shot to her feet. Without a second's hesitation, she raised her hand and slapped Lynn across the face with every ounce of strength she had.