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Chapter 242
“Pardon me, folks–out of the room, now. The patient needs quiet if she’s going to heal.”
The nurse herded them into the corridor, her heels clicking like a judge’s gavel announcing adjournment.
Instead of dispersing, they clustered beneath the fluorescent lights still reeling from the bombshell that had just gone off in their lives.
“Can you believe it? Alex, of all people, is the Lancaster Group’s silent bankroll!” Jack’s uncle whispered, voice rough with intrigue.
“Think the guy’s hiding some secret pedigree?”
“Alex?” Florence scoffed.
“I dug through every record–he’s a nobody. Sure, he did a stint in the military, which makes him tough enough to hit Bella, but besides that he’s an orphan with empty pockets.”
Heads nodded; the story was too tidy to question.
One of the family suddenly asked, “Why are all of you looking down on Alex?”
“Looking down on him?” Florence laughed.
“Impossible. We simply don’t care about him. We’re not heartless. We don’t prejudge people. Even if he’s poor, we can’t look down on him, right?”
“Yeah,” another added.
“He came here to marry Sophia with nothing but the clothes on his back. He’s just a poor guy without anything. We’re going to do whatever it takes to keep him out of our family.”
Once they labeled someone poor, there was no hope.
He would be forever marked unfit, never trusted; every mistake would be laid at
He was guilty–simply because he was poor.
his feet.
“Then there’s Charles Kingston,” someone murmured. “Didn’t see that curveball coming.”
Florence rolled her eyes. “Charles is drunk on love for Sophia–lying, scheming, anything to lock down her heart.”
“Honestly,” another relative chimed in, “a guy who torches his own reputation for love? That’s the kind you hitch yourself to forever!”
“Take notes, people! He dumped Bella Kane flat–for Sophia, our Sophia. She ought to be thanking her lucky stars.”
In a dizzying U–turn, the crowd vaulted Charles from villain to folk hero.
Stranger still, nearly everyone applauded the reversal.
In the Lancaster family, there was a motto.
If you are rich, everything you say is considered right, and you’re never wrong. Whatever you do is forgiven–it’s the privilege of the wealthy.
Inside the room, Sophia perched motionless on the mattress, her gaze hollow as winter sky.
Time blurred after the first tear tracked across her cheek, after the tremor set her shoulders quaking
Eventually she folded in on herself, forehead pressed to her knees
–and the dam burst, ragged sobs ripping from her chest.
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She hadn’t wept when the company teetered on collapse.
She hadn’t shed a tear through humiliation, bruises, even torture,
But now now she drowned in tears she’d never allowed herself.
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She was a headline–making CEO, suitors queued for miles, yet none had loved her with Alex’s fierce, selfless devotion.
That singular devotion set him apart.
And now… he was gone, footsteps fading beyond reach.
She wept at her own blindness, the epiphany arriving too late.
Her instincts screamed: even if she called Alex now and laid everything bare, he’d brush it off as a lie.
“If he’d just held on a heartbeat longer–loved me a fraction more–I would’ve shown him I’d changed,” she whispered into the sheets.
But the hourglass was empty.
Across town, in the back of a rattling cab, Alex let out a heavy breath.
“One ounce of faith from Sophia,” he muttered, “and none of this would’ve happened.”
With his real reputation, women swarmed around him like a pack of treasure hunters stumbling upon the motherlode.
Yet for all their flirtations and flowery promises, not a single one of them genuinely loved him.
On occasion, he believed Sophia was different–her delicate kindness hinted that she might truly care, and that faint hope was why he lingered by her side.
In the end, however, her affection proved nothing more than a mirage, vanishing the instant he tried to hold it.
“Stop lying to yourself. This is the end.”
Alex whispered, with sorrow and finality.
***
A few days later, at Kane Villa, Bella sat sunk into the plush cushions of an ornate sofa, her gaze distant and troubled.
Jericho Kane strode in, his shoulders tense.
“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes scanning her with anxious intensity.
“Yes,” Bella replied softly.
“Then why are you still holed up in your room?” Jericho pressed. “No more parties, no more dancing through the night?” Bella inhaled deeply before letting out a sigh that seemed to bear the weight of unspoken worries.
“What about you, Dad? Why are you still here? Usually you never home.”
Jericho’s mouth twitched with irony. “You know I lost my position as governor. I’ve got nothing left on my agenda.”
In a rare moment of vulnerability, Bella’s voice quavered.
“Dad… can you hug me?”
Jericho’s stern features softened with paternal warmth as he drew her into his arms.
Bella melted against his chest, her words barely above a breath, “It’s been so long since you hugged me, Dad.”
“Yeah,” Jericho muttered, a pang of guilt surfacing in his chest as he recalled endless days consumed by political battles and
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