CHAPTER 40: ON GUARD

Lucas’s smile spread across his face.

"This is the most important moment of my life. Sophia, will you marry me?"

Really? Pulling this kind of stunt right now? As if those jealous women didn’t already hate me enough!

Sophia feigned surprise, covering her mouth, though her hand instinctively reached out.

"No way... Lucas’s legs—how are they healed?!"

Aiden, who had watched him for years, had never once seen him stand. Yet there he was, upright on the stage. His custom-tailored suit fit to perfection, and with his towering six-foot-three frame, standing beside Sophia, they looked like a pair made in heaven.

Could it be... he’d been faking it all along, just to pull off this so-called "surprise"?

The ring had barely slipped onto her finger when suddenly—

The giant screen beside them lit up.

Andrew’s face lit with glee—finally, some drama! But instead of scandal, a flood of congratulatory videos rolled in, each from the CEOs of world-renowned corporations.

Andrew froze. Where the hell had the footage he had arranged last night gone?

On stage, Lucas’s brow furrowed. This wasn’t part of his plan. Someone had clearly meddled. Yet the screen only showed blessings—meaning the tables had turned. Someone else had been played.

The officiant’s voice cut in, "The groom may now kiss the bride!"

An arm slid firmly around Sophia’s waist. She whispered, "Just fake it—don’t you dare really—mmph..."

Before she could finish, Lucas tilted her chin up and captured her lips in a deep, unapologetic kiss.

Sophia’s eyes flew wide.

He cheated!

Thunderous applause erupted, filling the hall.

Off to the side, Billy shot Andrew a sharp, icy glare. Paparazzi? Really? Trying to humiliate his mom? Andrew had just written himself a death sentence.

By the time the ceremony ended, Sophia wasn’t even sure how she ended up inside Blackstone Manor.

Oh wait—because she had been carried. She hadn’t touched the ground once.

"Sophia, you’ve had a long day. Rest well. Here, have some warm milk," Nancy said warmly.

Her sudden motherly affection left Sophia flustered. Married now, she had no choice but to call her "Mom."

"Thank you... Mom."

"No need for thanks. Today was overwhelming with so many guests, and Lucas will probably be home late. I’ll go keep the little ones company for a while. Call me if you need anything."

Sophia nodded.

Downstairs, the six children sat in perfect order, their bright, innocent eyes all fixed on Anthony. Six pairs of puppy-dog eyes—how could one man possibly resist?

"Would you... call me Grandpa?" he asked cautiously.

He and Nancy had stayed up all night, pulling out Lucas’s old childhood photos, imagining what it would be like to have grandchildren. And now—six at once! Not only were the Hilton genes undeniable, but Sophia herself was an exceptional woman.

"Grandpa!"

The six little voices chimed in unison.

Anthony’s stern facade cracked instantly into a smile.

"Come here, come here! Grandpa’s giving each of you a card. Whatever you want—food, toys, anything—just swipe it!"

The kids exchanged wary glances.

Faye, in her tiny, sweet voice, said, "Grandpa..." She shook her head. "Mommy said we’re not supposed to take things. We already have money."

"Faye, darling, take it. You’re family now, not outsiders. Isn’t that right?"

But Faye shook her head again.

"Grandpa, we’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us," Eric said with a smile, gently shielding his little sister.

Anthony’s chest swelled with pride. "Good kids. Truly well-raised. Sophia’s done an incredible job."

His heart eased. But the conversation he’d had with Lucas the night before still weighed heavily on him.

Nancy soon came bustling down the stairs, her face glowing. She waved a stack of red envelopes in her hands.

"If you won’t take the cards, then take these. Call me Grandma—one for each of you!"

She grinned from ear to ear. The cards she had given them last night had already been returned by morning. But her grandchildren? She wasn’t about to let them go without gifts.

Red envelopes and bank cards were not the same thing—one carried affection, the other just money. So the children, one by one, called Nancy Grandma, their little voices sweet and deliberate.

Anthony frowned. Why hadn’t he thought of that trick himself?

"Lucas still isn’t back?" he asked.

Nancy shot him a sharp look. "And whose fault is that? Your dear little brother. The car accident years ago may never have been fully investigated, but don’t think I don’t know the truth. If Lucas hadn’t been lucky enough to survive, Anthony, you’d have no heir right now!"

She’d spent the whole evening at the hotel playing hostess before coming home, and she was exhausted. Still, her anger bubbled beneath the surface.

Anthony, as always, trusted Aiden too much—a flaw he’d never corrected.

"Enough," he said firmly. "Lucas knows what he’s doing. He won’t cross the line."

At the hotel, Lucas was still surrounded by guests.

"The bride already left, Lucas! That means you drink more!" a group shouted, egging him on.

Cup after cup disappeared down his throat.

Aiden, face flushed with both drink and barely hidden rage, clapped him on the shoulder. "Tell me, nephew, why didn’t you tell me your legs had healed?"

Julia tugged at Aiden’s sleeve, but he shook her off, his temper fueling his drinking.

Lucas downed another glass, his gaze steady on Aiden. His lips curved upward in a smile, but his eyes were like ice—sharp enough to cut.

"Uncle," he said smoothly, "what a pity. Hilton Group’s future has very little to do with you anymore."

Aiden’s expression froze.

Lucas leaned close, his deep voice whispering against his uncle’s ear. "This business with my legs? It isn’t over. My patience with you is done. Now it’s my turn to strike back. You’d better... be ready."

Before Aiden could reply, Lucas straightened, waved Alex over, and feigned a tipsy grin. "Gentlemen, I can’t hold my liquor tonight. Alex will drink on my behalf."

"Mr. Hilton, you’re leaving already? That won’t do! Stay!" the crowd protested.

Lucas chuckled, swaying on his feet. "There’s a new bride waiting at home. Naturally, I should return early. But don’t worry about yourselves—outside I’ve arranged for enough chauffeurs to take each of you home safely. Drink as much as you like."

Then, with mock innocence, he turned back to his uncle. "Ah, Uncle... I forgot to arrange a driver for you. Auntie still needs you, doesn’t she? Better not drink too much tonight."

Aiden’s face darkened instantly. It was a deliberate jab.

Later, back at Blackstone Manor, Lucas pushed through the door and found the entire house dark. Loosening his tie, he flicked on the lights. A note lay on the cabinet.

His mother had bought a plane ticket and left in the middle of the night.

Nancy had no patience for Aiden’s family drama; she knew they’d come knocking tomorrow, so she chose to avoid the mess altogether. At the bottom of the note, in her elegant handwriting, was one last line:

Warm milk on the table. Drink it for the hangover.

Lucas didn’t even glance at the cup. He tossed the note aside and headed upstairs.

Inside, Sophia had armed herself. She was bundled in layer after layer of clothes, at least ten in all, topped with a thick winter coat.

His brow arched. "What are you planning—climbing an iceberg?"

Sophia rolled across the bed dramatically, then jabbed a finger toward the floor. "I’m taking the bed. You’re sleeping down there."

Lucas’s eyes darkened, a dangerous glint sparking in their depths.

She wants me on the floor?

What a joke.