Genius Kids' Scheme: Claiming Daddy's Billionaire Empire Chapter 114

The car moved smoothly through Silver City's streets. Irene sat in the back seat surrounded by her children, their small bodies pressed against her like protective shields.

"You okay back there?" Thomas called, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Irene gave him a small smile, pulling the triplets closer. "Never better," she said, her voice softer than usual. "Thanks to my little warriors."

She ruffled each child's hair, lingering on their warm heads. Something about watching them stand up for her—these tiny humans barely five years old—had unlocked something she usually kept buried.

"No matter what," she whispered, "thank you for rushing to my rescue."

Lily perked up instantly, spotting her chance. She flashed her brothers a quick look that screamed *opportunity*.

"Don't thank us, Mom!" she chirped, bouncing in her seat. "Thank Uncle Adam! He brought us!" She shot an adoring look toward the front passenger seat, laying it on thick.

Alex jumped in without missing a beat. "Yeah! Uncle Adam drove us straight there when we told him you might need backup!"

Irene's eyes drifted to the front of the car. Throughout the whole hospital scene, Adam had maintained that intimidating presence that somehow made everyone else seem smaller. He'd barely spoken, but his being there had said enough.

"Thank you, Adam," she said, her eyes finding his in the rearview mirror.

For a moment, their gazes locked. Something unspoken passed between them—more than just gratitude. His intense eyes held hers just long enough to make her pulse skip slightly. It was the kind of look that momentarily erased everything else around them.

Adam finally broke the connection, turning to the window. "Don't mention it," he replied simply, but the slight softening around his eyes told a different story.

Irene looked away, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "And Thomas, too. For the chauffeur service. I appreciate it."

The triplets nearly vibrated with excitement at this tiny exchange, as if they'd just witnessed some epic romance scene. Their eyes sparkled with barely contained glee.

Thomas twisted the wheel, catching Irene's eye in the mirror. "Don't let any of that hospital BS get to you," he said, usual cheerfulness edged with bite. "Those people aren't worth the headspace."

"Seriously," he added, unable to hold back, "the way they treated you was completely messed up. Blaming you for something that had zero to do with you."

They rode in comfortable silence the rest of the way. Irene gazed out the window, focusing on her children's warmth against her sides rather than the cold accusations from earlier.

Back at Emerald Garden, they found Joseph waiting, his face lined with worry and lingering anger as he paced with his cane.

"You're back," he said, relief washing over him. "All good?"

"All good," Irene assured him, squeezing his hand as she passed. She turned to her hovering children. "You three, time to hit the books. Haven't seen you study all day."

"But Mom—" Lucas started, then stopped when he caught her gentle but firm look.

The triplets exchanged glances, reading the room. Without arguing, they nodded and headed toward their bedroom, though Lily couldn't resist throwing one last meaningful look at Adam.

When they were gone, Joseph patted the couch beside him. "My girl," he said, his weathered hand covering hers. "Don't let what happened get to you. If your parents can't see what they have, that's on them. You've got your grandfather."

His voice was gentle, but his eyes flashed with barely contained rage. "Today's incident..."

He trailed off, shaking his head as his brow furrowed. The image of his granddaughter being attacked by her own father and those outsiders made his blood boil. His hand clenched into a fist, then slowly released.

"Can you believe it?" he muttered, voice low enough that only Irene could hear. "Your own father standing there while those people attacked you. If I hadn't been there..." He shook his head, disgust evident in his expression.

Irene watched her grandfather's expression, warmth spreading through her chest. Though Joseph had stood up for her several times since she'd returned, each instance of his protective nature still moved her deeply.

"I stopped expecting anything from them ages ago," she said, forcing a smile though her eyes stung slightly. "But Grandfather, I had no idea you gave the Claires money."

Joseph's face softened. "Those who raise a child deserve thanks—that's what I thought. When I found you, I wanted to repay the family who'd raised you, regardless of blood." His voice turned bitter. "Later, I discovered how they'd treated you. I had no idea they'd throw you out when you needed them most."

"They loved the money more than they ever loved me," Irene said quietly.

Joseph snorted. "Clearly. Loading you with chores while spoiling their biological daughter. Taking my money as payment, then kicking you out when you needed family most." His eyes flashed. "And now they have the nerve to guilt you? Not while I'm still breathing."

That evening, Irene arrived at Adam's study for their usual treatment session. The hospital confrontation hung between them, unaddressed but impossible to completely ignore.

"Sorry you had to witness that circus today," she said as she arranged her equipment, voice light despite the heavy topic.

Adam looked up from his desk, expression unreadable. "Hardly quality entertainment," he replied, the ghost of humor softening his usual intensity.

Irene smiled despite herself, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. As she began the treatment, the room settled into comfortable silence. The familiar routine washed over her—checking readings, adjusting electrodes, monitoring responses.

Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, but her mind wandered. *This time of day has become weirdly important,* she realized, a small smile tugging at her lips. *Something satisfying about this—using my skills to help someone who actually values it.*

She glanced up briefly, noticing how Adam had grown more relaxed during their sessions. The initial stiffness from weeks ago had melted away, replaced by something that wasn't quite friendship but definitely wasn't the cold professional distance they'd started with.

*He keeps just the right distance,* she thought, appreciating his approach. *Not so distant it feels awkward, not so close it gets uncomfortable. He gets boundaries—his and mine.*

The treatment wrapped up smoothly, their quiet efficiency a stark contrast to the hospital drama hours earlier.

Later that night, after checking on her sleeping children, Irene finally retreated to her bedroom. The day had been exhausting, but not as devastating as it might have been. Something about having her children, her grandfather, and even Adam and Thomas rally around her had cushioned the blow that Jenny and the others had tried to deliver.

She turned on the bathroom faucet, ready to wash away the day, when her phone chimed. Shutting off the water, she picked up her phone, squinting at the bright screen.

Her eyes widened slightly as she read the message that had just arrived.

"Anna is awake and stable. No lasting damage. None of this is your fault. Get some rest and don't worry about it."

She stared at the sender's name, genuinely surprised.