Genius Kids' Scheme: Claiming Daddy's Billionaire Empire Chapter 165

Irene tossed a dish towel onto the counter and dropped onto her sofa. Afternoon light hit the windows at that odd angle that made everything look a bit too sharp, too defined. Just like the reality check she'd received at lunch.

Her fingertips drifted to her lips before she caught herself. That night on the beach rushed back—her mouth accidentally pressed against Adam's throat, the weight of him pressing her into the sand, that split second when time seemed to freeze.

"Get it together," she muttered, yanking her hand away.

She'd played this game before. Different house, same rules. The rich had their own playbook—one designed to keep outsiders like her from getting too comfortable. A single mom with three kids in tow? The invisible barriers went up double-thick for someone like her.

Sophia's perfectly timed questions about the kids' father had been surgical strikes. *You're not one of us. You never will be.* And Samantha's eyes had delivered the finishing blow: *Stay in your lane.*

Irene grabbed her notebook. "Distance works both ways," she whispered, flipping to a clean page.

She scribbled detailed instructions for Adam's treatment regimen, the scratch of pen against paper steadying her racing thoughts. When she finished, she tore out the pages and folded them neatly.

Alex froze mid-laugh when she walked in. All three kids looked up, their smiles fading as they registered her expression.

"Take this to Adam's house," she said, holding out the folded paper. "Give it to the housekeeper, not Adam."

Alex took it cautiously. "What is it?"

"Treatment instructions." Irene kept her voice neutral. "And tell them we won't be coming over for dinners anymore."

The words stung her throat, but she kept her face blank. She'd already been cast out by one family; she'd be damned if she'd let her children go through that same meat grinder.

Alex's mouth dropped open. "Wait—what? Why?"

Lucas and Lily scrambled to their feet, forming a tiny wall of resistance.

"Mom, no!" Lucas's voice cracked. "What about our game nights?"

Lily clutched Cookie to her chest. "But Adam taught me chess last week! He said next time he'd show me that special move..."

"Remember when those Sterling jerks came by and Adam basically told them to get lost?" Lucas pressed, stepping closer. "He's always been nice to us!"

A crack formed in Irene's resolve. Adam's kindnesses were real—that's what made this so hard. Each gesture pulled her closer to a world that would ultimately reject her. She'd spent five years rebuilding her life after the last time. She couldn't risk it again, especially not with her kids' hearts on the line.

"Just deliver the message, please." Her voice softened but remained firm.

The triplets stared at her with identical looks of betrayal. Lily's eyes welled up, a single tear tracking down her cheek.

Irene turned away before her own eyes could follow suit. The soft click of her bedroom door closing behind her sounded far too final.

Alone, she pressed her back against the door and slid to the floor. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But this is the only way forward."

Alex stood at Adam's front door, staring down at the folded paper like it might bite him. His sneaker scuffed against the welcome mat as he fought the urge to run back home.

When the housekeeper answered, Alex couldn't meet his eyes.

"My mom wanted me to give you this," he mumbled, holding out the paper. "It's instructions for treatment stuff."

He forced out his mom's message, each word feeling like a betrayal. Before leaving, he cast a longing look upstairs, then trudged home with his head down.

The housekeeper watched him go, confusion evident as he studied the papers. He went straight to find Thomas.

"Mission failed," Alex announced, faceplanting onto his mattress. Lucas and Lily sat cross-legged on the floor, their toy cars abandoned.

"I hate this," he groaned into his pillow. "We were getting somewhere!"

Lucas hugged his knees. "Sophia totally sabotaged us. Did you see how she looked at Mom? Like she was checking for price tags."

"And the way she asked about our dad..." Lily whispered. "Mom's face went all weird."

Alex flipped onto his back. "That's exactly when everything changed. As soon as Dad came up, Mom shut down."

The triplets exchanged knowing looks. They never talked about their father—it was the one subject guaranteed to make their mother's eyes go distant and cold.

"What now?" Lily asked, absently braiding her hair. "Mom's super stubborn when she gets like this."

"Remember the goldfish incident?" Lucas sighed. "She wouldn't budge for weeks."

"This is way worse," Alex muttered, staring at the ceiling. "We're basically losing Adam."

The three fell silent, their plans crumbling around them.

"We've got a situation!" Thomas burst through Adam's office door without knocking, waving a folded paper.

Adam looked up from his laptop, eyebrow raised.

"Irene sent this over with Alex," Thomas explained, catching his breath. "Instructions for your treatment. The kid said—and I'm quoting here—they 'won't be joining us for dinner anymore.'"

He ran a hand through his hair. "The housekeeper said the poor kid looked like someone canceled Christmas."

Adam set his laptop aside, a muscle working in his jaw.

"It was that damn lunch," Thomas continued, dropping into a chair. "Your mother and Samantha tag-teamed her like it was a wrestling match. Especially when the kids' father came up."

Adam's fingers tapped a slow rhythm. He should have seen this coming the minute his mother appeared unannounced. What had looked like an impromptu family meal had really been a carefully staged demonstration: *Here's where you belong, and here's where she belongs.*

He stared out the window at the garden between their houses. She wasn't running away—she was building a fortress. Protecting herself and her children from the exact scenario that had played out over lunch. How many times had she endured situations like that before?

The realization hit him with unexpected force: he didn't want her to withdraw. These past weeks with her and the triplets hovering around had filled spaces in his life he hadn't realized were empty. Their presence had become... necessary.

His decision crystallized instantly.

"Get me the Wright Medical Partnership files," he said abruptly.

Thomas blinked. "The five-hundred-million-dollar deal? What does that have to do with—"

"Just get them," Adam cut him off.

When Thomas returned with the folder, Adam flipped through it methodically, his expression giving nothing away.

"Tell Irene that treatments don't stop halfway," he finally said, looking up. "As for today's events, I'll handle it personally."

He closed the folder with a definitive snap. "And schedule legal for tomorrow morning."

"Legal?" Thomas echoed. "Is this about the Wright project?"

Adam's eyes held a determination Thomas hadn't seen before.

"Some things matter more than business," he said simply.

After Thomas left, Adam wheeled to the window. The Wright partnership meant millions, global connections, and his father's approval.

But as he stared at the garden dividing their houses, all he saw was Irene's face when his mother had mentioned the children's father. That flash of raw pain had lasted only a second, but it outweighed everything in the folder on his lap.

His fingers tapped twice against the file.

"Wright Medical," he murmured, "or Irene Sterling."