Chapter 288

Eavesdropping on Juicy Secrets

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow over Evelyn Sinclair’s bedroom. She stretched lazily, her mind still half-asleep, when suddenly—bam!—a flood of thoughts that weren’t her own crashed into her consciousness.

"Oh my god, did Nathan really say that to Victoria last night?!"

Evelyn bolted upright, her heart pounding. That voice—sharp, gossipy, unmistakably Victoria Hayes’—wasn’t coming from outside. It was inside her head.

She clutched her temples, trying to make sense of it. Ever since that strange incident at the gala last week, she’d been catching fragments of other people’s thoughts. Mostly useless chatter—until now.

"If Evelyn finds out Nathan only proposed because of the inheritance clause, she’ll lose it."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. What inheritance clause?

She scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over her silk robe. This wasn’t just idle gossip. This was a bomb. And Victoria—Nathan’s scheming secretary—knew everything.

Downstairs, the aroma of coffee wafted from the kitchen. Nathan stood by the counter, his back to her, broad shoulders tense as he scrolled through his phone. Normally, the sight of him would make her pulse flutter. Now? Her stomach twisted.

"Morning, sweetheart," he murmured without turning.

Evelyn forced a smile. Play it cool. "Morning. Sleep well?"

"Like a rock," he lied smoothly.

Except—she heard the truth beneath it. "Another nightmare about Eleanor. Damn it, why now?"

Eleanor. His first love. The one who died.

Evelyn’s nails dug into her palms. She’d always suspected Nathan had shadows in his past, but this? A proposal based on money? Secrets about a dead ex?

And then, like a gift from the universe, Victoria’s voice hissed through her mind again: "Thank god he doesn’t know about the prenup loophole. Once they’re married, that trust fund is mine to control."

Evelyn’s blood ran cold.

Game. On.

Luna recoiled in horror as her mother's deranged expression sent chills down her spine. She wrenched her wrist free from Penelope's iron grip, her wide eyes darting to her father in silent plea—Had her mother truly lost her mind?

Victor, too, was stunned. Though he harbored no love for Lucas, he would never sacrifice his own daughter's dignity just to ruin the young man. Some lines couldn’t be crossed.

Lucas finally snapped out of his shock, stepping forward with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "You've lost it," he spat. "She's my sister. How dare you accuse me of something so vile? Do you hate me so much you'd rather destroy her than see me walk free?"

To Lucas, this was nothing but Penelope’s twisted retaliation for the night’s failed scheme. She had always assumed he would endure her cruelty without limits—but not this time.

Yet Penelope was relentless. "It was you! Don’t lie! I saw it—how you forced yourself on her! You're a monster! If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have to do this!" Her voice rose to a shriek, her eyes wild. "Everyone else might be fooled, but I know what you are!"

The room erupted in murmurs.

"What kind of madness is this?" Vivian blurted.

"She’s insane," Marcus muttered coldly.

"Good," Marcus Prescott added with a smirk. "Maybe now Lucas will finally stop believing she’s capable of love."

Vivian Grant’s cheeks flushed with fury. "This is disgusting. Lucas doesn’t deserve this."

Monster didn’t even begin to cover it. Penelope had never treated Lucas as her son, yet she had no qualms pinning every flaw of her golden child on him. As if he existed solely to absorb their sins.

The Blackwoods exchanged grim glances. Earlier, they’d pitied Penelope’s misfortunes—but now? Karma was a blade that cut both ways.

Nathan Blackwood observed the chaos, his gaze calculating. The moment had arrived. Even though Lucas had long given up on Penelope, the raw pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Enough," Nathan said, his voice slicing through the noise. "If you’re so certain, let’s settle this with proof." He pulled out his phone. "I’ll call the lab. We’ll do a DNA test—right now."

Silence fell.

Penelope’s face drained of color.

Lucas stiffened. "You can’t be serious."

Nathan didn’t flinch. "Deadly serious. If she’s accusing you of this, then let’s see the truth in black and white."

Luna’s breath hitched. A DNA test?

But before she could protest, Penelope lunged—not at Lucas, but at Nathan. "You bastard! This is none of your business!"

Nathan caught her wrist effortlessly, his voice icy. "Oh, but it is."

And with that, the game changed forever.

A sudden touch on his shoulder made Lucas spin around in surprise. His eyes met the cool, composed gaze of Beatrice Holloway, who rarely initiated physical contact.

To everyone's astonishment, Beatrice stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension like ice.

"Mrs. Collins, perhaps you should reconsider your accusations before slandering someone. Earlier, when we had guests, Lucas was under constant observation. After you drugged him, he was with me—then rescued by friends. Meanwhile, your daughter never left the ballroom. When, exactly, would he have had the opportunity?"

Truthfully, Beatrice didn’t need to explain. The logic was obvious. But she refused to let Penelope’s lies go unchallenged.

As expected, Penelope’s face twisted in fury, her carefully crafted facade crumbling. "How dare you speak to me like that! He is my son, and I know him better than anyone! Are you suggesting a mother would lie about her own child?"

Her outburst silenced the room.

Then, a voice sliced through the tension.

"Unless you’re not his real mother."

Penelope froze. All eyes turned toward the speaker.

At first, people dismissed it as reckless gossip—until they saw who had spoken.

Nathan Blackwood never spoke without reason.

And standing beside him was Evelyn Sinclair, the uncanny truth-seeker of high society, whose sharp instincts never failed.

Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly at Nathan’s bold claim. No evidence? Just pure instinct? She exhaled in relief. Thank goodness he’s right. Otherwise, this would be embarrassing.

Nathan shot her an amused glance before turning back to the stunned crowd, his gaze locking onto Lucas.

Lucas trusted Nathan implicitly. His pulse raced as he demanded, "What do you mean by that?"

For the first time, Lucas wanted to believe he wasn’t Penelope’s son. He silently begged for Nathan to confirm it.

Nathan had no proof—yet he spoke with absolute certainty. "If Mrs. Collins isn’t delusional, then there’s only one explanation for her behavior—you’re not her biological son. That’s why she can manipulate you, ruin your reputation, and steal your inheritance without remorse."

The room erupted in murmurs.

Lucas’s breath hitched.

Was it possible?

Had his entire life been a lie?

The murmurs in the room thickened like fog, unspoken suspicions hanging heavy in the air. Many had wondered, but none had dared to voice it aloud—until now.

"Lies! All of it!" Penelope Collins—Ava's replacement—cut Nathan Blackwood off before he could finish, her voice a shrill, unhinged scream. Her eyes burned with a manic intensity, her fingers clawing at the air as if she could tear the truth apart with her bare hands. "He deserves every ounce of suffering I've given him! Do you know what he cost me? My husband died because of him! My life was ruined the moment he took his first breath! Why should I show him mercy?"

The sheer audacity of her delusion was staggering. She truly believed Lucas Thornton—formerly Damien—owed her for existing. As if his birth had been some calculated act of betrayal rather than the natural consequence of her own choices.

The Blackwoods exchanged stunned glances.

"And what about the rumors you spread?" Nathan continued, his voice icy. "The ones about him and Luna Morgan?" His gaze sharpened as Penelope's face drained of color. "The only reason you'd go that far is to hide the real scandal, isn't it?"

A beat of silence. Then—

"Wait." Vivian Moore—Elaine's counterpart—leaned forward, eyes gleaming with realization. "If Lucas isn't really her son... and Caleb Moore and Luna are siblings..." She gasped dramatically. "Did she switch them at birth?"

The room erupted.

"No! That's not—Lucas is mine! Caleb and Luna aren't—they can't be—!" Penelope's protests were frantic, her words tripping over each other in her panic. But the more she denied it, the more obvious the truth became.

Victor Reed—Sergio's replacement—staggered back as if struck. He knew Penelope better than anyone. And right now, the guilt in her eyes was undeniable.

Then—

A shriek.

Luna Morgan lunged for Penelope, her hands shaking as she gripped her mother's arms. "Tell me it's not true! Tell me Caleb and I aren't—!"

Her phone clattered to the floor in the struggle, the screen flashing with damning evidence of her own secrets, now forgotten in the wake of a far greater revelation.

Nathan didn't hesitate.

"Lucas," he said, turning to the silent figure at the edge of the room. "We can settle this right now." He pulled out his phone. "I know a lab. Results in three hours."

Penelope screamed.