Ch-29

•~•Aziel’s POV

The steady hum of the car’s engine filled the silence as I sat in the backseat, my fingers tapping absentmindedly against the leather armrest.

My mind kept circling back to the words Irene had spoken two nights ago, her voice still echoing in my thoughts, then to the conversation with her father last night—one I had overheard through the bug I had planted on her phone.

I couldn’t believe she had gone this far, just because I had mentioned that name— Irene.

Just because I had told her she was the woman I loved but couldn’t be with. And that question I had asked—how she knew about my dislike for garlic.

How could those little details have pushed her into such paranoia?

Paranoia that had driven her to do something so reckless as setting up that dinner and talking about herself like Irene Lancaster wasn’t her. Like she had really died that night.

And worse, how could she have done it in front of my mother, who was just as paranoid and calculating…If not more so?

I let out a frustrated sigh.

Fine. She had already started the game. Now, I just had to play along, the way she expected me to.

I just prayed my mother had bought their act.

I hoped she wouldn’t see the need to dig deeper, especially now that she knew the Irene Lancaster she had pushed off that cliff five years ago wasn’t just some random girl, but the Lancasters’ only daughter.

The car jolted to a stop, dragging me out of my thoughts. My driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Sir, we’re here.”

I let out a breath and straightened up as he stepped out. He opened the door for me and pulled my wheelchair from the trunk, setting it in place.

I moved into it, pressing the button on the armrest. The chair slid smoothly into position.

When I wheeled into the restaurant, the familiar sights greeted me—crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, and the soft buzz of quiet conversations.

It was one of Grant Holdings subsidiaries, a place that always felt both impressive and comfortable at the same time.

“Ah, Nathaniel, over here,” my mother’s voice called.

I wheeled over to her table, taking in the spread of food and wine already laid out. I raised an eyebrow, keeping my gaze cool. “What’s all this? Why did you call me here?”

She took her time, sipping from her wine glass before setting it down with a smile. “I thought we could have a mother-son date.”

I stared at her, unblinking. “Since when do we do those?”

She sighed, the sound almost theatrically. “Alright, alright. I just wanted to celebrate, and you were the first person who came to mind.”

I tilted my head, eyeing the unusual brightness in her demeanor. “You look... happy. Not like your usual self. Is this about Nathaniel? Did he make some kind of recovery?”

She smiled, casually tracing the rim of her wine glass. “Something almost as good as Nathaniel waking up happened.”

A knot of unease tightened in my chest. “And what exactly is that?”

She leaned in slightly, her smile curling. “I uncovered a skeleton in Zane Lancaster’s closet.”

I froze. “A skeleton?”

She nodded, the smirk on her lips growing. “One that could have him wrapped around my fingers.”

“You know how these rich people are,” she continued, her tone almost casual. “Always hiding deep, dark, and dirty secrets. The kind they'll go to any lengths to keep buried.”

My brows lifted, a mix of amusement and disbelief. She spoke as if she wasn’t one of those rich people with deep, dark secrets herself—secrets that were probably dirtier than most.

She leaned back, picking up her fork and taking a bite of her roast duck, all the while I watched her in silence. The unease in my stomach tightened, twisting.

“When I first found out the Lancasters had a daughter who died, I couldn’t help but wonder why they never mentioned her,” she began, her eyes briefly flickering to me.

“…But thankfully, they cleared it all up at dinner. Though, I must admit, I wasn’t expecting their daughter to be the same girl… Irene—the one who came between you and your brother. The reason he’s in a coma.”

Anger and unease—a terrible mix—churned inside me at her words. The nonchalance in her tone made my jaw tighten as I fought to keep my reaction in check.

She continued, her voice taking on a wistful note. “Sitting there, listening to them talk about her, I couldn’t help but wish I could turn back time.”

“…Had I known she was really a Lancaster, I would’ve welcomed her with open arms for Nathaniel.”

“... But of course, Nathaniel told me she claimed they only shared the same last name by coincidence and weren’t related at all. I just wish she’d been honest with him and hadn't jumped off that cliff… They could’ve been happy.”

‘I could’ve been happy with her… not Nathaniel. Irene and I would’ve built a life together, raising our child—if only you hadn’t pushed her off that cliff, because of your greed and wickedness…’

‘... And now you sit here, acting innocent, thinking I don’t know what really happened that night.’ I wanted to say it all out loud, but I held my tongue, forcing my anger back down.

“She probably felt so insulted by the money you offered her to leave Nathaniel and get rid of her pregnancy that she felt there was no other way out… that she had to jump off that cliff,” I said, my voice cold, the words biting.

My mother paused, her fork halfway to her mouth, her gaze sharp as she looked at me.

“We all make mistakes,” she said, her tone defensive. “It’s part of who we are as humans. Besides, it’s all in the past now.”

I scoffed, and she arched an eyebrow, surprised by my reaction.

She let out an exasperated sigh, taking another sip of wine as if to calm herself.

When she spoke again, her tone shifted, deliberate. “Anyway, those revelations at dinner with the Lancasters only gave me more reason to do what I did.”

My brows furrowed, my eyes narrowing. “And what exactly did you do?”

She smirked, a devious glint in her eyes. “I had a DNA test done.”

My stomach dropped. The mask of indifference I had been holding onto slipped as I spoke, my voice full of disbelief. “A DNA test?”

“Yes.” She met my gaze, her eyes gleaming with triumph. Leaning in closer, she whispered, “Solane isn’t actually Zane Lancaster’s niece—she’s his daughter. One hundred percent.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Fuck! She found out.

She was watching me carefully now, and I knew I couldn’t let her see the panic creeping up on me.

I quickly grabbed my glass of wine, taking a slow, measured sip before setting it down again.

“I’m shocked,” I said flatly, keeping my voice steady. “Are you sure? What if the test was wrong?”

She rolled her eyes. “I had it done three times.”

I exhaled slowly, pretending to be skeptical in hopes of planting some doubt in her mind.

“That doesn’t make sense. The Lancasters don’t seem like the type to hide something like this. How did you even get the DNA samples?”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Simple. I took some of Solane’s hair from her comb in your room and grabbed a cup Zane drank from at dinner.”

My frown deepened, and my mind began to race. Why was she still calling Irene ‘Solane’? Could it be that she hadn’t realized Solane is actually…?

“I believe Zane had an affair,” she cut through my thoughts, her voice nonchalant but firm.

“Most likely with his late brother’s wife. I just found it strange how close he and Solane are, how much he dotes on her—so I had to confirm my suspicions…”

“... And now, with this secret, I can blackmail him. I doubt Solane or his wife even knows about it.”

I let out a slow breath, relief flooding me. She hadn’t figured it out.

I scoffed, regaining my composure. “So, you’re resorting to blackmail now? How… unclassy.”

She chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “I’ve done worse.”

My jaw tightened. “Worse things like what?”

She met my gaze with a knowing look before clearing her throat. “Regardless, I’ll only use it if necessary.”

“... Besides, you’re married to her now. Even if I had doubts before, I’m certain now—Zane Lancaster will make her his heir. Which means you need to act fast.”

I arched a brow. “Act fast?”

She smirked. “You need to get her pregnant, silly.”

I leaned back in my chair, feigning disinterest. “You haven’t agreed to my condition yet. So, I can't exactly move forward with that, can I?”

She studied me for a beat, her gaze sharp, before tilting her head. “You know, it’s actually nice to see you finally want something after all these years. I used to think you had no interest in the company. Guess I was wrong.”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

She exhaled a long breath. “Fine. I’ll make you CEO. But on one condition.”

I scoffed, my patience thinning. “And that is?”

“I’m getting you a physiatrist.”

I frowned, my confusion clear. “A what now?”

“A physiatrist," she repeated, her voice a little more patient. "They specialize in helping people recover from physical injuries or disabilities—helping you get back on your feet, literally.”

My expression hardened. “I don’t need one.”

“You do,” she replied firmly. “I need you in the best possible condition…and whatever it takes to get Solane pregnant.”

I smirked coldly. “And who said I need legs to do that? All it takes is a dick and sperm.”

Her gaze turned cold, her lips curling into a slight sneer as she leaned back in her chair. “You're disgusting,” she spat, her voice tight with irritation. “How can you say something like that in a restaurant?”

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Whatever.”

“No, not whatever!” she quickly snapped back.

“You made your terms clear, and I’m making mine. Now, it’s either a deal or no deal.” Her eyes locked onto mine, intense and unwavering, while I simply stared back at her.

————

Back in the car, my mind spun from the conversation with my mother.

I felt a sliver of calm, but it was fleeting. Just because she hadn’t connected the dots about Solane being Irene didn’t mean she wouldn’t continue digging into Zane Lancaster’s past for leverage.

Irene still wasn’t safe.

“Stop the car,” I commanded.

Without hesitation, the driver pulled over and turned to face me, concern etched on his face. “Sir, is something wrong?”

I gritted my teeth. “Get out.”

He looked at me, confused. “Sir—”

“I said get out!” I snapped, my voice rising more than I intended it to.

He didn’t argue. With a quick motion, he turned and exited the car.

Once he was out, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number.

The line went through immediately.

I wasted no time with pleasantries as I heard the crackle of static before the line cleared. “There’s been a problem. I need you to fix it.”