From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 286: Fatal Blueprint

"Hello, I'm a resident in Building A. My neighbor in Building B seems to be intoxicated and has been slamming on the door and causing a disturbance for a while now. The noise is extremely loud and has seriously disrupted my rest."

The property management team acted with swift efficiency. Within minutes, two tall security guards arrived and politely, but firmly, escorted the still-pounding Lucas away.

The commotion had roused Sebastian.

Appearing in the doorway of the guest room, his sleep robe loosely tied, he watched the scene outside conclude with a slight frown before turning to Riley. "Lucas?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes," Riley said, letting the curtain fall back into place. Her tone was flat. "He showed up at my place, found it empty, and started making a scene. I had security handle it."

A weary sigh escaped her. "Though I'll likely have some explaining to do tomorrow."

Sebastian's eyes held a flicker of something as he moved closer. "Do you need me to step in?"

"No." Riley shook her head, a hint of steel returning to her voice. "It's nothing I can't handle myself."

Meanwhile, Lucas, forcibly removed from the gated community, was consumed by a volatile mix of fury and crushing defeat.

Riley was gone, her phone going straight to voicemail.

He felt utterly discarded, a complete failure, and could only retreat in humiliation back to Ashford Manor.

The lights in the grand living room were still on. Caleb, clearly waiting up, frowned at his grandson's solitary, disheveled return. "Where's Riley?"

Lucas' throat tightened. "She's... working late. Reviewing that project for Mr. Watson. She's not coming back," he muttered, the old, convenient lie tasting like ash in his mouth.

The irony of repeating the very excuse he'd once believed was not lost on him, and it stung.

Brushing past any further questions from Caleb, his expression stormy, Lucas stalked straight into his study. Almost against his will, driven by a restless, gnawing suspicion, he found himself pulling Anthony's project proposal from the file cabinet.

The quiet rustle of pages filled the room.

At first, his eyes scanned the documents without truly seeing them, his mind still fixated on Riley's whereabouts.

But gradually, his focus shifted. His brow furrowed deeper with each turned page. Then, his hand froze.

His gaze locked onto a specific financial forecast model.

The numbers looked hauntingly familiar.

A cold prickle ran down his spine. Lucas quickly accessed the archives on his computer, pulling up the files from a failed overseas acquisition case his own company had undertaken years prior. A few minutes of frantic comparison later, the color drained completely from his face.

The core profitability model in Anthony's proposal bore a staggering seventy percent resemblance to the very model that had doomed that acquisition.

It was a disaster that had resulted in losses amounting to hundreds of millions and had landed the then-legal representative in prison for financial crimes.

He can't be this brazen, right? This model is a proven failure. Is Anthony really repackaging this toxic scheme to swindle the Harpers, the Torres, and us? Lucas thought, a wave of disbelief crashing over him.

Clutching the damning document, Lucas didn't care about the late hour. He burst out of his study and rushed to Caleb's quarters.

Caleb looked up from his armchair, his frown deepening at Lucas' harried entrance.

"Grandpa!" Lucas' voice was urgent, laced with panic. "This project from Mr. Watson—it's flawed. Deeply flawed."

He laid out his discovery in a frantic rush. "The core profit model of this project is practically identical to the one from our company's failed overseas acquisition case a few years ago! You know the one, Grandpa—the one that cost us billions in losses and landed the legal representative involved in financial crimes. He's still in prison to this day!

"So we absolutely cannot touch this project! Maybe... we should back out first?"

Caleb's reaction, however, was not what Lucas expected.

The old man merely glanced at the papers, his expression unreadable.

"Lucas. You're still thinking like a rookie. Given the Watson family's long-standing ties with us, do you truly believe Anthony would be foolish enough to peddle a scheme with such an obvious, traceable flaw to us?" Caleb said, his voice cool and measured.

Lucas hesitated. The logic, from a purely cynical standpoint, held.

Caleb continued, "Furthermore, the kind of risk you're describing... it's merely a matter of having the right person in place to bear the public burden, should things go south."

A cold knot formed in Lucas' stomach. "What do you mean?"

A shrewd, calculating glint entered Caleb's eyes. "It's simple. You establish a new company. Register it under Sophia's name. Let that entity be the signatory for Anthony's contract. You retain actual control, of course. If the project fails, she becomes the face of the failure. The liability rests with her."

"No!" The refusal tore from Lucas instantly, his face pale. "Grandpa, we can't! If this blows up, it would destroy her!"

Visions of Sophia—her gentle smiles, her quiet support, her seemingly fragile innocence—flooded his mind, clashing violently with his grandfather's cold proposition.

Caleb snapped, his patience wearing thin, "Control yourself! Getting sentimental?

"Lucas, remember this—what we want is absolute gain and an unshakable foundation! What does one Sophia even matter?"