From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 60: Strange Occurrences

He quickly pushed the odd sensation aside, telling himself it was all just a string of coincidences, then called their family physician to have his mother's injury treated.

After the late-night commotion, the house finally settled into quiet in the early hours of the morning.

Lucas wasn't the least bit tired. Rubbing his throbbing temples, he headed back to the study, trying to focus on work.

It wasn't long, though, before a soft knock came at the door.

Thinking it was one of the housekeepers, he called, "Come in."

The door eased open just a crack.

"Daddy..."

A small, shaky voice, thick with held-back tears, drifted through.

Lucas looked up, surprised to see Jeremy.

The boy must have woken up sometime earlier. Clutching his worn teddy bear, he stood barefoot in the doorway, his big eyes red and puffy like a little rabbit's.

Lucas' heart softened at once.

He stood and walked over, crouching down to meet Jeremy at eye level. "What's wrong, buddy? Can't sleep?"

Jeremy sniffled, reached out, and fisted a handful of Lucas' shirt. "I keep having bad dreams," he choked out. "I'm scared. Can I stay with you tonight?"

Looking at his son's small, frightened face, Lucas couldn't bring himself to refuse.

Riley wasn't home, and the master bed was empty anyway. He nodded gently. "Okay. You wait right here like a big boy. I'll just wrap up a little work, then we'll go to bed together."

After settling the child, he shut down his computer and left the study.

But the moment he pushed open the door to his own bedroom, he froze.

The room was dim, lit only by a single bedside lamp. Sophia was perched on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a silk robe.

This was his and Riley's room.

The reminder sent a spike of irritation through him. His expression cooled instantly. "What are you doing in here?"

Sophia flinched at his tone. She rose quickly, her face pale, and stammered, "With Jeremy gone, I was all alone in that room... It felt too quiet. I got nervous, so I..."

She twisted her fingers, avoiding his gaze, then ventured carefully, "Why don't you, me, and Jeremy go sleep in one of the guest rooms? Riley's still at the hospital—she'll never have to know."

Before Lucas could reply, Jeremy suddenly turned and clung to Sophia's legs, his voice trembling with tears. "No! I don't wanna sleep here either! This room feels scary too!"

The child's raw fear dropped the temperature in the room to ice.

Lucas knelt, pushing down his own frustration, and tried to soothe his son. "Jeremy, it's okay. Tell Daddy what's wrong. What scared you?"

Jeremy just shook his head, burying his face in Sophia's robe, only the flushed tips of his ears visible.

He seemed to want to explain, but fear had stolen his words.

Every principle and ounce of annoyance Lucas held dissolved at the sound of his son's heartbroken crying.

He closed his eyes briefly, then gave in. Scooping Jeremy up, he said flatly, "Let's go."

In the end, Lucas took both Jeremy and Sophia to a guest room to sleep.

He barely shut his eyes the whole night.

Early the next morning, Anthea—forehead still bandaged and paying no mind to her own injury—hurried out of the house with a weary-looking Sophia and Jeremy. They drove straight to St. Cloud's Cathedral in the east side of the city.

Lucas went to the office feeling completely drained.

Around noon, after handling the most urgent tasks, he was about to slip out to visit Riley at the hospital when his phone rang.

It was Anthea.

"Lucas, come home right now," she said, her voice unusually tense.

His stomach dropped. Thinking something else had gone wrong, he drove straight back to Ashford Manor.

But when he rushed through the front door, he found Jeremy playing with a soccer ball on the lawn under the nanny's watch.

He let out a slow breath, then frowned.

Anthea was waiting in the living room. As soon as she saw him, she stood up anxiously, drew him aside, and spoke in a hushed, urgent tone. "Riley's going to be discharged soon, isn't she?"

Not waiting for an answer, she pressed on, her voice tight with worry. "Listen to me. Don't bring her back here just yet. Rent her a nice apartment somewhere—somewhere comfortable—and let her recover there first."

Lucas stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "Mom, what are you talking about? What does this have to do with Riley?"

"What does it have to do with her? Everything!" Anthea's agitation grew.

Seeing the tension, Sophia brought Anthea a glass of water, then turned to Lucas with a gentle, explanatory tone. "Lucas, just hear us out. This morning, Mom took Jeremy to see Father Byron at St. Cloud's. As soon as Father Byron saw Jeremy, he asked if there'd been any... troubling incident at the house lately—something involving blood."

She paused, watching Lucas' face carefully, then continued. "At first, we didn't connect it to Riley, so we didn't mention her hospitalization. But Father Byron shook his head and said, 'No, I'm certain there's something. The energy in your home feels very heavy. You should look into it carefully.'"