Genius Kids' Scheme: Claiming Daddy's Billionaire Empire Chapter 116: Why Wasn't I Invited to the Wedding

Nathan pushed open the hospital room door, Brandon's accusations still bouncing around his skull. The room was quieter now, bathed in the soft yellow glow of a single bedside lamp. Mike and Jenny had passed out in chairs by the window, heads lolling at angles guaranteed to give them hell come morning.

The bustling crowd from earlier had vanished—no hovering doctors, no uncomfortable Sterling family members, and most tellingly, no Richard.

"Where is everyone?" Nathan asked, eyeing the empty chairs.

Anna lay against the stark white sheets, her usual glow replaced by an unsettling pallor. She'd been watching him since he walked in, eyes tracking his movements like a wounded animal.

"Gone home to change," she whispered, her lips barely moving. A bitter smile flickered across her face. "Not like hanging around here helps anyway. Just more drama nobody needs."

Nathan's jaw tightened. His parents had bailed? And Richard had disappeared after supposedly being so devastated? Something felt off.

Anna shifted slightly, wincing as tubes pulled against her skin. Her makeup-free face looked younger, more vulnerable, her hair a limp frame around hollow cheeks.

"Maybe I shouldn't have survived," she murmured, voice cracking on the last word. "Nobody really wants me around. I spent my whole life stealing Irene's place." She gave a humorless laugh. "Karma's a bitch, right?"

Tears spilled over then, creating dark splotches on the thin hospital blanket.

"But I didn't know," she continued, words tumbling out faster. "I never asked to be switched at birth. Why is everyone punishing me for it?"

Nathan felt that strange protective surge he'd always had around Anna—the little sister who'd followed him around with wide, admiring eyes. Brandon's harsh words suddenly seemed cruel in the face of her raw pain.

He grabbed tissues from the nightstand and pressed them into her trembling hand.

"Hey, cut that out," he said, voice gentler than usual. "This isn't your fault."

He perched awkwardly on the edge of the mattress. "Everyone cares about you. Even when we found out the truth, none of us—not Mom, not Dad, not me—ever thought about walking away. You're family, Anna. Period."

A memory flashed—Anna at six, crying over a skinned knee, him awkwardly patting her head and promising it would stop hurting soon. He found himself making the same gesture now, hand hovering uncertainly before landing on her shoulder.

"Focus on getting better. The rest is just noise."

Anna nodded obediently, dabbing at tears with the crumpled tissue. 

Something nagged at him—a loose thread he couldn't help pulling. "Anna... did Richard really message Irene saying he'd only marry her?"

Anna's hand froze mid-wipe, the tissue pressed against her cheek. Her mind raced.

*Shit. Red flag. Why's he digging into this now?*

She carefully lowered her hand, keeping her expression neutral while panic bubbled underneath.

"I'm not totally sure," she hedged, voice deliberately vague. "Richard never let me touch his phone. Maybe I... misunderstood what I saw."

She rushed ahead before he could process this backpedaling. "But he did break off our engagement. That's definitely real." Her voice dropped to a brave whisper. "If Irene actually wants him back, I... I guess I could step aside."

The sacrifice hung in the air between them, Anna's face a masterclass in reluctant nobility. Inside, she was seething at the mere thought of Richard with Irene, but outwardly, she was the picture of selfless grace.

*That's right*, she thought behind tear-swollen eyes. *Poor, selfless Anna, willing to give up even the love of her life for family harmony.*

Nathan felt a stab of shame for doubting her. Anna had always been the sweet one—thoughtful, accommodating, kind. Brandon's accusations suddenly seemed like bitter jealousy.

"Don't worry about any of that right now," he said, awkwardly patting her hand.

They chatted for a while, Nathan filling dead air with meaningless work updates until his phone buzzed. He checked it with a frown.

"Gotta run," he said reluctantly. "Crisis with the Westbrook project."

Anna nodded with perfect understanding. "Go. I'll be fine."

"I'll swing by tomorrow," he promised, standing. "Just rest and keep your mind off all this mess, okay?"

"I will," she said softly. "Don't work too hard."

He squeezed her hand one last time before heading out. The moment his footsteps faded, Anna's transformation was instantaneous. Tears evaporated, replaced by a cold, contemptuous smile that would have shocked Nathan to his core.

*Pathetically easy*, she thought, leaning back against her pillows. *What a reliable idiot.*

\---

Back at Emerald Garden, Irene shot off a quick reply to Brandon's text before hitting the bathroom. The hospital drama had been exhausting, but she refused to lose sleep over Anna's latest manipulation. Whatever game was being played, she wanted no part of it.

She slept like a rock that night.

Morning sunlight poured through windows as Irene cleared breakfast dishes. Joseph lounged on the sofa, newspaper rustling as he turned pages. The triplets bounced in their seats, debating what their first lesson might cover with the excitement only five-year-olds could muster for academics.

A knock interrupted their morning routine. Thomas stood at the door, looking unusually crisp.

"Hey," he said, "the professor just arrived. I came to grab the kids for introductions."

Irene nodded, wiping hands on a dish towel. "Give me a sec."

She corralled the children, immediately noticing their barely-contained excitement. Their eyes sparkled as they practically vibrated with anticipation, already gravitating toward the door like tiny magnets.

"Whoa there," she grabbed Lily's hand before the little girl could bolt. "Let's dial it back about ten notches, okay?"

*They're about to spontaneously combust*, Irene thought, watching their eager faces. *But what if this professor takes one look and decides they're not worth his time? What if he expects more than they can deliver?*

Despite their obvious brilliance, maternal anxiety kicked in as she straightened Alex's collar and attempted to tame Lucas's perpetual bedhead.

"Remember," she warned, voice firmer than usual, "first impressions stick. No running, no interrupting, and use your inside voices."

The triplets nodded solemnly, though excitement still leaked from every pore.

"Got it, Mom," they promised in unison, making visible efforts to contain themselves.

Minutes later, Thomas led them across the courtyard to Adam's villa. Adam sat with an elderly gentleman. To Irene's surprise, Adam's typically stone-faced expression had softened as he talked with his former teacher.

The old man radiated quiet dignity without trying. His white hair framed an intelligent face marked by laugh lines and knowing eyes that sparkled behind wire-rimmed glasses. Everything about him signaled wisdom earned through decades of teaching.

*They actually look comfortable together*, Irene noted, surprised by the easy rapport between Adam and his mentor. *If this crashes and burns, it'll be mortifying for everyone.*

Adam glanced up mid-sentence as they entered, conversation trailing off. The elderly professor followed his gaze, turning to observe the newcomers with evident interest.

"This is Dr. Jonathan," Adam said simply.

The triplets approached with perfect choreography, forming a neat row before the professor.

"Hello!" they chirped in practiced unison before introducing themselves individually.

"I'm Alex."

"I'm Lucas."

"I'm Lily," the little girl finished with a wobbly curtsy that threatened to topple her.

Dr. Jonathan studied them intently, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Something about them caught his attention—something in their expressions, the set of their jaws, the way they carried themselves with that peculiar mixture of confidence and careful attention.

His gaze flickered between the triplets and Adam, sudden understanding dawning in his eyes. He nudged Adam's arm, smile widening.

"When exactly did you have kids?" Dr. Jonathan asked bluntly, though his tone remained playful. "Getting hitched without telling anyone, skipping the wedding invites, and now expecting me to teach your little ones?"