Substitute Wife, Genius CEO novel Chapter 123

"Did I say you had to go back home immediately? My parents just got out of surgery and haven't recovered. How are they supposed to rest with all of you screaming in here? I'll take you to a hotel so you can eat and settle in."

Hearing this, the crowd finally looked satisfied.

Before leaving, Summer hugged Maeve, wanting to ease her worries. "Mom, I'll explain everything when things calm down. I promise I won't hide anything from you. Just don't overthink it, and don't stress. Focusing on your recovery is the only thing that matters right now."

Maeve patted her daughter's back. "Go on, don't worry about us. You know I don't have much power, but the one thing I'm good at is never holding you back. I refuse to be a burden. Whatever my girl decides goes. If they say anything nasty, don't hold back. Your dad isn't there, so you don't need to save face for his sake."

Edward smiled from his bed, giving her a supportive thumbs-up.

Summer smiled back, turned on her heel, and led the noisy crowd out of the hospital and toward a hotel.

The relatives openly marveled at the establishment. The decor was extravagant, upscale, and undeniably expensive.

They felt a surge of pride, their chests puffing out as they strutted through the lobby.

But the moment they discovered it was only a four-star hotel, their expressions soured instantly.

If a four-star looked this good, what would a five-star look like?

This was a rare opportunity, and since they weren't the ones paying, they felt entitled to the absolute best.

The group shot pointed looks at the old woman, prompting Beulah to snap, "Summer, you brought us to this dump? What, do you think an old country woman like me isn't fit for a five-star hotel?"

Summer was speechless.

The nearby bellhop gave an awkward twitch of his lips and forced a polite smile. "Ma'am, our hotel is practically on par with any five-star establishment in the city, which you'll see once you check in. Plus, our location is unbeatable. You can see Westridge Park right from your window."

Beulah scoffed, entirely unimpressed. "It's still just a four-star."

The bellhop fell silent.

Jared's mother chimed in with a sickly sweet smile. "Summer, your grandmother had a hard life when she was young. She never got to experience true luxury. Now that you're so successful and have the means, you should let her enjoy the finest things. Treat her to a five-star experience as a way to honor your father."

Tiffany pouted her lips. "Yeah, Summer. You're loaded. Why are you being so cheap? You won't even put Grandma up in a five-star suite?"

Jared sneered. "Don't bother. Adopted is adopted. No blood relation means no real loyalty. Being this stingy over a few bucks... I really feel bad for my uncle and aunt."

As they continued to dogpile her, Summer listened in silence before pivoting toward the exit. "Fine. Let's go. I'll take you to a five-star hotel."

An hour later, they stood inside a grand but visibly aged five-star establishment.

The Vance family looked as though Summer had forced them to eat dirt.

A tall, lean man strolled casually toward them. His gaze was striking, slightly predatory, accentuated by a stark red mole near the corner of his eye.

It was Yates Hawthorne, the illegitimate son of the Hawthorne family.

Dressed in a flawlessly tailored black suit that made his aristocratic pallor stand out, Yates moved with effortless grace. A million-dollar watch flashed on his wrist, his leather shoes gleaming under the chandelier lights as two lackeys trailed respectfully behind him.

Yet he looked utterly bored, radiating an aloof, commanding presence that made him seem untouchable.

"Mr. Hawthorne. What a coincidence," Summer greeted him with a polite smile. "I didn't realize you had a background in bridge real estate."

"Coincidence indeed," Yates replied with a slight nod. His gaze drifted lazily over to the Vance family.

"Though an underpass would suit their overall aesthetic."

The middle-aged executive walking beside Yates instantly picked up on the dynamic and turned to the concierge. "Has your clientele dropped this low? Who are you letting in these days? Cycle the air in the lobby immediately, the stench is unbearable. Don't let it ruin Mr. Hawthorne's visit."

"Right away, sir." The concierge immediately signaled the staff to blast the ventilation system.

The Vance family turned a collective shade of purple. They weren't stupid—they understood the blatant disrespect. Yet, despite their boiling anger, none of them dared to say a word.