CHAPTER 156: THE BIG SURPRISE

Frank glared at the man in front of him, fury burning through his chest.

Andrew’s intentions were obvious—everyone knew what he was after.

And now he had the audacity to twist the truth and deny everything, leaving Frank with no way to pin him down.

"Mr. Turner, this way, please."

Paul extended an arm, gesturing for him to leave.

Frank shot Andrew one last murderous look and spun around, storming out.

He’d better have nothing to do with this—otherwise Frank would make sure Morgan Group paid for it.

Downstairs, Harper spotted Frank and frowned in confusion.

Why would he be here?

A week passed—not long, yet long enough.

Lucas spent his days drowning himself in alcohol, not even showing up at the company.

People whispered in sympathy.

And others... tried to take advantage of the chaos—all of whom were kicked out immediately.

Tonight, Lucas was slumped in a bar booth, drunk beyond recognition.

His jaw was rough with unshaven stubble, his usually sharp presence replaced by exhaustion and defeat.

When Harper found him, she didn’t hesitate—she yanked the bottle straight out of his hand.

"Lucas, are you out of your mind?!"

"Give it back! You have no right to control me!"

Lucas scowled, reaching for the bottle, but his hand closed on empty air.

Suddenly—

Harper smashed the entire bottle on the floor.

The crisp shatter snapped him back to reality.

"Even if Sophia is gone," she snapped, "there are still people who need you!"

She struggled to haul him up and dragged him toward the exit.

Outside the bar, hiding in the shadows of a corner—

Andrew smirked.

"Paul, tomorrow proceed with Sophia’s funeral arrangements as usual. And make sure the lawyer is ready. I want to give them... a little surprise."

"Yes, President Morgan."

Harper shoved Lucas into the car and rotated her aching shoulders.

"They’re still over there," she whispered.

Lucas pressed a hand to his pounding head, expression dark.

"Good. The timing is right. Let’s go."

They were acting—acting out a plan designed to drag Morgan Group straight into hell.

The next morning.

The Morgan family held Sophia’s funeral at a hotel.

Reporters crowded around, cameras ready.

Some whispered among themselves.

"Wasn’t Sophia married to Lucas? Shouldn’t the Hilton family be hosting this? Why is Andrew in charge?"

"Yeah, it’s weird... And look, there’s a lawyer there. I think it’s for the will. Poor Sophia... I was a fan. Never thought the first time I’d see her in person would be... like this."

A young man sighed, eyes dim.

Andrew had invited plenty of guests, all dressed in black, somber and formal.

None of them had spotted Lucas yet.

"Mr. Morgan, where is Mr. Hilton? Why are you handling Miss Morgan’s funeral instead of him?"

A planted reporter pretended to ask innocently.

Andrew forced a sorrowful smile.

"Once Sophia’s matters are settled, I will give everyone a satisfactory explanation."

He let out a shaky sigh, tears streaming dramatically.

"My daughter... my poor daughter..."

Suddenly, someone in the crowd shouted, "Lucas is here!"

Every camera swung instantly toward him.

Lucas walked in, expression frozen, face cold and unreadable.

"Mr. Hilton," a reporter called, "can you explain why Miss Morgan’s funeral is not being handled by you?"

Another voice chimed in, "Mr. Hilton, rumor has it you and Miss Morgan were never actually married—is that true?"

Lucas shot the reporter a chilling look.

She shrank back immediately.

Aiden, who had come purely for the spectacle, stiffened when he heard that.

Fake marriage?

Lucas had only inherited his grandfather’s entire estate because he got married!

Julia beside him froze as well. She grabbed Aiden’s arm.

"Did you hear that?!"

"Of course I did!"

If the rumor was true—then they had every right to investigate and reclaim what should’ve been theirs.

Lucas strode right up to Andrew.

"You’re here," Andrew muttered, his expression dark and simmering with anger.

"She’s my wife," Lucas said coldly. "On what grounds do you think you’re qualified to handle her funeral?"

"Lucas, even now, you still want to lie to me? You never married Sophia!"

The room exploded into shocked gasps.

"What? Not married? What kind of joke is that? They had a whole wedding!"

"Yeah—did they just not sign the papers?"

"No wonder Andrew took over. All of Sophia’s assets will go to him!"

They whispered—but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Suddenly, Susan stepped forward, tears streaming as she pointed at Lucas with a trembling finger.

"You! You deceived Sophia! You two were never married! Was it you? Did you kill her just to steal everything she owned?!"

A sharp glint flashed in Lucas’s eyes.

Susan collapsed into Andrew’s arms, sobbing.

"Mr. Hilton, can you explain yourself?"

"Mr. Hilton, is what she said true?"

Microphones thrust toward him from every direction.

Lucas gave the crowd one cold, sweeping look, then took something out of his pocket.

"Sophia and I are legally married. As for your accusations—I reserve the right to pursue action."

"We’re at her funeral, and you’re still lying?"

Andrew lunged to grab the document, but Lucas shifted his hand back, avoiding him easily.

"You’re faking it! I already investigated—you two never registered! It was all a scam!"

Andrew slammed a stack of documents onto the table.

Names were listed—but not theirs.

In an instant, reporters swarmed Lucas.

But Andrew’s true target... wasn’t Lucas.

"Mr. Morgan," a reporter asked, "as Miss Morgan’s biological father, what is your plan for YL Group now that it will pass to you?"

"This was her life’s work," Andrew said solemnly. "I will take good care of it. I’ve brought in the lawyers, and once we finish the paperwork, I will establish the Sophia Charity Foundation in her name."

He turned to the cameras with a humble smile.

"I hope all of you in the media will bear witness today."

All lenses shifted toward him.

Andrew’s smile deepened.

The atmosphere—the momentum—was building perfectly.

Until—

A voice rang out from the back of the crowd:

"Well, well. I disappear for a few days and you’ve already set up a memorial service for me? Mr. Morgan... you’ve worked so hard~"

The crowd froze.

Heads whipped around.

A path opened in the middle—and there she was.

Sophia.

Dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses on, walking forward with calm, lethal grace.

Behind her stood six children, positioned like her personal guard.

And at her side, a tall, broad-shouldered man—around forty—his sharp gaze locked directly onto Andrew.

Andrew went pale.

Beside him, Susan and Olivia stiffened like statues.

Impossible.

Sophia was... alive.

Sophia slowly removed her sunglasses, her eyes landing on the stunned faces before her.

She smiled—just a hint—sharp and mocking.

"Mr. Morgan. I’m not dead. Disappointed?"