Chapter 273

Eavesdropping on Scandalous Thoughts

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, casting golden streaks across the marble floors. She sipped her latte, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly—until a familiar voice cut through her thoughts.

"Oh my god, did you hear about Nathan Blackwood and Victoria Hayes?"

Evelyn’s fingers froze mid-scroll. That voice—sharp, gossipy—belonged to Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant. But Lillian wasn’t speaking aloud. No, this was… internal.

A slow smirk curled Evelyn’s lips. Since when could I hear people’s thoughts?

She focused, tuning into the mental chatter like adjusting a radio frequency.

"Rumor has it Victoria’s been sneaking into Nathan’s office after hours. And not for paperwork." Lillian’s mental voice dripped with scandalized delight. "But here’s the juicy part—she’s also been leaking company secrets to Preston Whitmore. Double betrayal!"

Evelyn nearly choked on her coffee. Victoria, Nathan’s secretary—a spy?

Before she could process it, another thought-wave hit her—this one from Marcus Donovan, Julian Blackwood’s agent, pacing outside her building. "If Julian finds out Nathan’s been embezzling funds, the Blackwood empire will implode. Time to cash in my stocks."

Evelyn’s pulse spiked. Embezzlement? This wasn’t just gossip—it was a landmine.

Then, like a soap opera crescendo, Nathan’s own thoughts sliced through the noise as he entered the lobby below. "Evelyn can never discover the truth about Sophia’s accident. Or that I paid off the witnesses."

The latte cup slipped from Evelyn’s grip, shattering on the floor.

Lucas had been informed that Penelope wanted to speak with him. Already in a foul mood that day, the last thing he wanted was another tense confrontation with her. Experience had taught him that nothing good ever came from her seeking him out.

Yet Luna had come to urge him repeatedly, leaving him no choice but to comply.

Meanwhile, Penelope had excused herself from the banquet and retreated to a private lounge. When Lucas arrived, she gestured for him to sit.

"What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

The moment she saw him, a surge of irritation flared within her, but she suppressed it with practiced ease. Instead, she casually steered the conversation toward his future.

Her sudden concern about when he would settle down only deepened his confusion.

"I heard you'll soon be announced as the Bennett family heir," she remarked, her tone deceptively light. "I don’t have much to offer in terms of blessings, but I hope you’ll never forget where you came from."

With that, she raised her glass in a mock toast.

Lucas knew better than to expect anything pleasant from her. A simple blessing was the most he could hope for in their strained relationship. Without hesitation, he grabbed the nearest wine bottle, poured himself a glass, clinked it against hers, and downed it in one swift motion.

A flicker of triumph—and something darker—flashed in Penelope’s eyes. "In the future, do look after Luna and her child’s interests. You owe Caleb that much. You should be grateful and repay him accordingly."

Lucas exhaled sharply. Here we go again. He had already endured watching the woman he loved become Caleb’s fiancée. What more did she want from him? Gratitude? Stubbornness? Since when did others—especially his own mother—get to dictate how he should feel?

Finally, his restraint snapped. "Are you even my real mother?"

Penelope’s eyes widened briefly before she scoffed. "What kind of ridiculous question is that?"

"Funny," he shot back. "You ask me to take care of Luna, but then demand I repay Caleb? Have you forgotten the Bennett family rules? There’s no tradition where the heir owes anything to those who failed to claim the position. I earned this with my own skills—not because he let me have it. We both trained under Aunt Eleanor, and she chose me because I outperformed him. The only person I owe gratitude to is her. Caleb has nothing to do with this."

The words poured out of him, a flood of pent-up frustration finally unleashed.

Truthfully, Lucas had never craved the role of heir. But from childhood, he had been conditioned to believe that his place in this family was tied to his worth. And now, bound by duty and expectation, he had no choice but to accept it.

The Blackwoods never once believed that Lucas had stolen Caleb's future. He had often reflected on why such toxic thoughts plagued him—thoughts so deeply rooted they seemed impossible to uproot. Deep down, he knew the answer: Penelope's relentless manipulation.

The cruelest part of family ties was how they bound you to things you knew were wrong, yet couldn’t escape.

Even though logic screamed he owed no one, guilt still whispered that he should surrender. I already gave up the woman I loved. What more do they want from me?

Penelope’s suffocating expectations pressed down on him like a vise.

Then, suddenly, his vision blurred. Heat surged through his veins, his breaths turning shallow. His limbs grew heavy, his thoughts sluggish.

Lucas’s gaze snapped to Penelope, realization dawning. "You drugged me?" His voice was hoarse. "What the hell are you planning?"

Penelope’s face twisted into something ugly.

"Ungrateful wretch!" she spat. "You think someone like you deserves to lead this family? You’ve failed me—failed your father! You should be groveling for forgiveness!"

Her words dripped with venom, her eyes wild. Only when Lucas collapsed did she finally exhale, her expression smoothing into cold satisfaction. With a sharp gesture, she summoned Luna.

The younger woman hurried in, barely containing her excitement. "It worked that fast?"

"What about next door?" Penelope demanded.

"That woman already drank what Caleb gave her. I checked—she’s completely unconscious." Luna hesitated. "But… what if they accuse us when they wake up?"

Penelope scoffed. "The Blackwoods won’t make a scene. As for the Holloways, they’ll take any marriage alliance they can get. They won’t care who it’s with."

Luna’s laughter bubbled up. "Then Caleb will be the heir!"

Penelope nodded, her smile almost affectionate.

Luna’s mind raced. If Caleb takes over, I’ll be the future Mrs. Blackwood. Forget the Reeds—this is power. Nathan might be out of reach, but I’ll make Evelyn Sinclair regret crossing me.

A flicker of doubt crossed her face. Caleb wasn’t easy to control. But she had a plan.

That photo of us together earlier? Perfect leverage. Once the family announces Caleb’s engagement is off and he’s named heir, I’ll reveal our relationship. If he resists, I’ll leak the photo. They’ll force him to marry me.

Her lips curled. Of course, I can’t let Mother know. She acts like she cares about Caleb, but it’s all for Nathan’s sake. She despises him—just like she despised his mother. Their feud must’ve been brutal. Maybe she thinks her ex-husband would’ve been head of the family if not for Eleanor.

The thought gave her pause.

Then why is she helping Caleb now?

Something didn’t add up.

And that unsettled her.

It made perfect sense now why her mother had chosen to help Oliver instead of Lucas. After all, compared to Mrs. Holloway, her mother must have despised Lucas Thornton even more—the man who had brought nothing but chaos into their lives. The thought didn’t unsettle Luna; if anything, a twisted satisfaction curled inside her.

With calculated movements, she hauled Lucas—now unconscious—into the adjacent room, dumping him unceremoniously onto the bed where Beatrice Holloway lay. The impact drew a faint groan from Beatrice, though she remained blissfully unaware. Lucas, however, stirred as the heat radiating from his body intensified, his senses slowly clawing back to awareness.

The intoxicating scent beneath him, the warmth and softness pressing against his skin—it all chipped away at his restraint. The sharp click of the door closing finally forced his heavy eyelids open.

And then—his heart stopped.

The woman before him was the one he had longed for over a decade.

Back in the ballroom, the Blackwoods, thoroughly entertained by the unfolding drama, suddenly stiffened in realization.

Nathan: Who exactly are we catching in the act?

Oh god… How am I supposed to react? Caleb is about to walk in on Lucas and Beatrice?! Luna’s thoughts spiraled. You’re just handing your fiancée over like some twisted gift, aren’t you? A perfect strike right to Lucas’s weak spot!

A hysterical laugh bubbled up inside her. Wait—would Lucas have even needed persuasion if you’d just asked him outright? Would he have jumped at the chance to take your place in the marriage agreement?

No, no, I’m thinking about this all wrong. Her stomach twisted. They’ve been drugged. Locked in there together. Something terrible is going to happen—we have to stop this now!