CHAPTER 42: THE UNINVITED GUEST

She stared blankly at her phone, her mind frozen for a few seconds before her fingers flew over the screen to fire back a reply.

In the conference room, Lucas glanced at his phone, his usually stoic face breaking into an unexpected chuckle.

Manager Taylor froze mid-presentation. "Mr. Hilton... Did I say something wrong? Did I make you laugh?"

Lucas immediately schooled his features, his voice clipped. "Nothing. Continue. I’m listening."

On his screen, Sophia’s reply glared at him in bold letters: [Go to hell!!!]

He smirked faintly and typed back:

[Heaven knows I’m innocent here.]

Almost instantly, another message popped up.

[Why don’t you go eat shit instead?!]

Lucas arched a brow. His wife had quite the temper.

Before he could respond, another text buzzed in:

[Your uncle’s pounding at the door. Should I open it?]

Aiden had timed it perfectly—Lucas was tied up at the office.

Lucas hesitated, thumb hovering, when another message arrived:

[I’m furious and need an outlet. So, just to be clear—I’ll deal with it, but you’re responsible for whatever happens.]

Lucas rose from his chair in one smooth motion. Every gaze in the conference room swung to him.

"Meeting adjourned. Manager Taylor, put your report on my desk. We’ll resume tomorrow."

He strode out, leaving a wake of whispers behind.

"What’s with Mr. Hilton?"

"Who cares? Did you see his face? God, he’s even more irresistible standing than he ever was in that wheelchair. Like a fallen angel—or maybe God himself in a suit!"

"If I had a boyfriend like him, I’d give up food entirely!"

Alex cleared his throat loudly. "Enough. Meeting’s over."

He trailed after Lucas, while the chatter continued.

"Honestly, even Alex is handsome—just too cheerful."

"Tell me about it. I gave him chocolates last Valentine’s, and he told me to watch my calories!"

At the far end, a sweet-faced junior employee clenched her teeth in frustration.

...

Blackstone Manor.

After a long shower, Sophia slipped into fresh clothes and wrapped herself in a towel, stepping out only to find six pairs of curious little eyes fixed on her.

"Mommy."

Their voices chimed in unison.

"Sweethearts," she said briskly, "there’s a bad uncle outside. Go grab a couple of buckets of water. We’ve got cleaning to do—time to take out the trash."

Charles and Dustin bolted off gleefully, eager to stir up trouble.

Outside, Aiden had given up knocking and resorted to kicking the door.

"Dad, maybe they’re not home?"

"Impossible. Lucas is at the office. Sophia should be here. That woman doesn’t know what’s good for her!"

Beside him, Richard looked uneasy. He’d never cared much about seizing Hilton Group—it had always belonged to his brother anyway. And now Lucas had fulfilled the will’s condition by marrying...

But Julia shoved him aside, her sharp voice ringing out: "Stupid boy! Your father and I are doing this for you! Do you realize what owning Hilton Group means? Generations of wealth! And don’t forget—Lucas only married her to placate us. It’s clearly a sham marriage!"

They were here to expose that very sham.

Everyone knew Lucas’s aversion to mess—his obsessive sense of control.

Inside, Sophia glanced back at her six little ones, then tugged the door open.

Julia’s raised foot froze midair. Richard’s expression flickered with something unreadable.

"Sophia, you..."

Her bare shoulder peeked from under her robe, a mark left deliberately visible.

Sophia’s lips curved. "Mr. Hilton. Mrs. Taylor. Shouting at Blackstone Manor’s door so early in the morning? Honestly, I thought a couple of pigs had gotten loose."

Julia’s eyes bulged. "What did you just say? Pigs? Did you just call me a pig?!"

Sophia’s smile turned razor-sharp. "Of course not. I only made an observation. If you feel like it applies to you... well, that’s not really my fault."

"Sophia, you’re married to Lucas now. That makes me your aunt. How dare you—"

"Sorry," Sophia cut in with a sweet smile, "I almost forgot you were family. After all, Mrs. Taylor, your voice sounds nothing like Lucas’s, so..."

She gave a mock-apologetic shrug.

"I want to go inside," Aiden snapped. "We’ll talk there."

Sophia lazily lifted her hand and braced it against the doorframe.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Lucas told me not to let anyone in."

"I have something important to discuss with you!"

"With me?" She widened her eyes, feigning shock, then clutched her arms across her chest. "Uncle, you don’t mean to—"

"You—!"

"Uncle," Sophia gasped dramatically, "I know I’m pretty, but you did say your wife is a jealous tigress. Please, for your own sake, control yourself."

Julia’s face turned crimson. "What? Me? A tigress? Aiden, your courage has grown far too bold!"

She reached for his ear, only for him to swat her hand away. "Don’t take the bait, Julia! She’s trying to provoke you."

Julia glared at him and shoved past Sophia. "Move! I’ll see for myself."

"Uncle, Aunt," Sophia warned coolly, "the house is being cleaned. Don’t go in."

"Cleaning?" Julia sneered. "Perfect. I’ll help you scrub every corner!"

When Richard stepped inside too, Sophia only touched her nose with one elegant finger and let a sly smile slip.

Julia’s eyes darted around, her envy growing sharper with each glance. Blackstone Manor outshone her villa in every possible way.

"Sophia, I want orange juice," she said imperiously.

Fresh from her bath and draped in a robe, Sophia arched a brow and called toward the kitchen. "Faye, bring a glass of orange juice."

"Got it, Mommy!"

Julia scoffed. "You actually brought your children here too? Shameless!"

Sophia sat down, her smile razor-sharp. "Uncle, Aunt, Cousin—what exactly brings you here? Let’s not waste time."

"You know damn well," Julia snapped. "Your marriage to Lucas is a sham. I want you to announce it publicly."

Sophia casually swept her hair over her shoulder, baring the marks along her neck. They were impossible to miss. Temptress or not, Richard’s eyes never strayed away.

"Mommy, here’s the orange juice."

Faye handed it over with a bright grin.

"Please, Grandma Taylor, enjoy your juice."

"Grandma? Who are you calling Grandma? Do I look that old?!"

"Grandma Taylor, you’re not old at all! You look sixty, maybe seventy tops. Certainly not eighty!" Faye chirped sweetly, pushing the glass closer.

Julia nearly exploded.

Before she could unleash her fury, Faye "tripped," sending the entire glass splashing down the front of Julia’s expensive outfit.

"You brat! What have you done?!" Julia shrieked, shoving at her.

But Faye was quicker—before Julia’s hand even touched her, she plopped to the floor and burst into loud, pitiful sobs.

Sophia scooped her daughter up, her face darkening. "Mrs. Taylor, don’t you think you’ve gone too far? She’s just a child!"

"A child?! Look at my dress! Do you have any idea how much this cost? Thirty-three thousand dollars!"

"Mommy! Faye!"

Billy rushed in, balancing a tray of milk.

Then—

"Ahhh!"

"Billy!"

He slipped. The entire glass of milk went flying—straight onto Julia.

She stood frozen, trembling, as milk dripped down her perfectly styled hair in slow, humiliating rivulets.