Chapter 270

Adam's POV

The surgical waiting area felt sterile and impersonal, the harsh fluorescent lighting accentuating Thomas's feigned concern as he approached us.

"Adam, Father has been in there for five hours," he informed me, his expression carefully arranged into filial worry. The performance was almost convincing, but the subtle gleam in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

Rather than respond to him, I simply glanced at the closed doors of the operating room before sitting down and taking out my tablet. Work provided a welcome distraction, something concrete to focus on rather than the hollow social performance playing out.

Beside me, Stella settled into her own seat, taking out her phone to browse idly. Her deliberate disregard for Thomas and his family was a silent declaration of loyalty that I appreciated more than she knew.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Brian growing increasingly agitated by Stella's indifferent attitude. The barely disguised anger in his expression was almost amusing—his entitled expectation of her attention conflicting with her complete disinterest in his existence.

His sense of self-importance is truly nauseating.

Chloe eventually pulled Brian away, leading him toward the fire exit stairwell for what she probably thought was a private conversation. Their departure didn't interest me enough to follow, but their hushed voices carried farther than they realized.

"You're still staring at Stella?" Chloe hissed, her voice carrying strong disapproval. "Has she completely bewitched you?"

"Stella was supposed to be mine!" Brian's response was petulant, the childishness in his voice undisguised. "Everything started going wrong since I broke up with her! If we hadn't split up, I wouldn't have been blacklisted from Rouge, wouldn't have been ridiculed because of Lucy, wouldn't have had the incident with Lisa and made enemies with the Davis family, making Grandfather think I'm worthless and wanting to pass the company to Ad—mmph!"

Chloe's hand had evidently covered her son's mouth, cutting off his revealing outburst. "Are you shouting because you want Adam to know the old man's near-death is connected to us?" she furiously whispered.

The rest of their conversation dissolved into Chloe's bitter curses, calling Stella a "vixen" who had turned everything upside down.

Little bastard, just as I suspected.

I turned my attention back to Stella, who was focused on her phone, seemingly unaware of the venom directed at her just meters away.

"Adam, look at this," she suddenly said, turning her screen toward me with a small smile on her face.

The image showed us hurriedly leaving the university auditorium, my hand firmly clasping hers as we navigated through the crowd. The candid photo had evidently been taken by a student and posted on social media, collecting countless comments and likes.

"Send it to me," I requested, acknowledging her attempt to lighten my mood in this grim environment.

She playfully pulled her phone back: "No way, someone else took this photo. How can Mr. Lancaster expect to get it for free?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, I felt a warmth spreading in my chest, touched by her transparent effort to distract me. Her awkward attempt at comfort somehow moved me more than any carefully prepared consolation.

This silly girl, trying to cheer me up even at a time like this.

Brian had returned to the waiting area, his face twisting with jealousy as he observed our interaction. His resentment was palpable, filling the space between us with toxic energy that even Thomas seemed to notice, shooting his son a warning glance.

Suddenly, the light above the operating room doors went out, signaling the end of the surgery. The double doors swung open as the surgical team emerged, their expressions maintained in careful neutrality as they approached us.

"The surgery was technically successful," the chief surgeon announced, removing his surgical cap to reveal sweat-dampened hair. "However, Mr. Lancaster remains in critical condition. The cerebral hemorrhage placed significant pressure on several neural pathways, including those responsible for language processing. We won't know the full extent of any potential damage until he regains consciousness."

Thomas, Chloe, and Brian exchanged glances, then visibly relaxed, the tension in their shoulders easing slightly. Stella nudged me gently, her eyes meaningfully glancing toward Brian, whose expression contained a fleeting relief—perhaps even satisfaction—at the news of William's precarious condition.

These bastards, taking pleasure in Father's critical condition.

"We've moved him to the ICU," the doctor continued. "He'll be under close observation for at least the next 72 hours."

I led Stella through the hospital corridors to a private medical office where Luke was waiting for us. He was still in casual clothes, having evidently rushed to the hospital after receiving my message. Several patient files were spread out on the desk in front of him, with William's medical records prominently displayed.

"Adam," Luke greeted me, his expression grave as he gestured for us to sit down. "Your father's condition raises some concerns."

"What is it?" I asked, though I already suspected what he might say.

Luke pointed to several markers in the medical files. "Two things stand out. First, there was a significant delay between the onset of symptoms and when medical help was sought. For a cerebral hemorrhage, every minute counts—this delay may have been deliberately orchestrated."

He flipped to another page. "Second, your father's blood pressure readings for the past month show a sharp and atypical increase. This could indicate his medication or diet was being manipulated—something or someone deliberately encouraging conditions that would lead to this outcome."

The implication hung heavily between us. Luke closed the file, standing to leave for another surgery.

"Someone wanted this to happen," he stated simply, then left us alone with this disturbing conclusion.

"Was it... Thomas and his family?" Stella asked hesitantly once we were alone.

I remained silent, considering the implications carefully.

"But I don't understand," she continued, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Your father clearly favored them. Why would they take this risk? Even if they're eager to take over the Lancaster family business, this seems too extreme and premature."

"What if William was considering supporting me again?" I suggested quietly.

Understanding dawned in Stella's eyes as she pieced the situation together:

Thomas's position depended entirely on William's favor. That position was threatened by my growing success through GT Group and the powerful family connections I'd gained with the Moores and the Davises.

Brian's abilities were questionable at best, his reputation increasingly tarnished by scandal. If William was indeed reconsidering his succession plans, Thomas might have felt desperate enough to take drastic action.

"But you don't even seem to want the Lancaster family business," Stella pointed out, studying my expression carefully.

"They don't believe that," I answered, unable to keep the disgust from my voice. "They can't tolerate anyone in our family having something they don't."

They won't get away with this. Whatever it takes, I'll make sure they gain nothing.