Chapter 58: Then Madam Colburn Wouldn’t Be Okay.
Madam Colburn’s gaze flickered from Lucian’s concerned face to Brianna’s strained smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, she looked past them toward the corner of the room, where the family’s long-standing legal counsel stood, holding a leather-bound briefcase.
The lawyer gave a singular, somber nod.
"Mr. Colburn, if I could have a moment of your time? There are specific clauses regarding the estate and the... succession lineage that your grandmother wishes to finalize immediately."
Frowning, Lucian’s protective—or perhaps possessive—instincts flared up. "Can’t this wait until she’s feeling stronger?"
The Dowager interjected, "Lucian, please. Go with him. I want to speak with Brianna. Alone. Woman to woman."
Lucian hesitated, letting his gaze fall on Brianna.
"This way, sir," The lawyer, Mr. Sterling’s tone suggested that this wasn’t a request, but a legal necessity.
With a final, suspicious glance at Brianna; likely trying to decode the ’toxic’ sweetness still lingering on her face, Lucian let go of her hand. The loss of contact felt like a sudden drop in temperature.
"I won’t be long," he muttered, leaving with the lawyer.
Brianna and the dowager watched them leave before glancing back at each other.
"Here, Grandmother," Brianna said, her voice finally sloftening as she handed over the ’Eternal Empress’ set.
The old woman’s eyes widened, the deep red rubies reflecting in her pupils like glowing embers. "Oh, Brianna... it’s magnificent. But you shouldn’t have. Your presence is enough of a gift for these old bones."
She patted Brianna’s hand with a touch that was genuinely warm.
"I’m glad you liked the gift, Madam Colburn," Brianna began, trying to keep the conversation free from awkwardness.
Leaning closer, the Dowager whispered, "The gift is fine. But I’m more interested in you and my Sol... He really is looking at you differently, dear. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. It makes my heart rest easy."
Brianna felt a pang of guilt. The ’sweet wife’ act was starting to feel like a mislead. She and Lucian were playing the part too well it made everything seem like a lie.
"I’m just glad he’s... adjusting, Madam Colburn." She murmured, trying to keep her voice steady.
The old woman took Brianna’s hand, squeezing it with surprising strength. "Call me Grandmother, please. We’re past the formalities. That’s why I wanted to ask... about that permanent marriage contract I gave you months ago. I want to be ensured that no matter what happens to me, you’ll always be a Colburn. Have you had a chance to sign it, dear?"
...
The moment the lawyer shut the door, he motioned Lucian a few feet away from the door. That way he wouldn’t hear what the Dowager was telling Mrs. Colburn.
Mr. Sterling adjusted his cuffs, smiling softly. "Madam Colburn is truly a strong woman."
Lucian could only nod, given he didn’t remember anything about her or their relationship. Although he felt pity when he saw her trying to hide her vibrating hands under the blanket.
He tilted his head. He didn’t understand the nature of her illness and why she thinks she doesn’t have much time left.
She looked obviously very wealthy. To him, wealthy people can’t be killed from illness, given they have access to every possible treatment out there; even before average level people.
"What is taking so long?"
"Pardon?"
"If it’s cancer, isn’t there a program somewhere that treats it? Why does she think she doesn’t have much time left?"
Mr. Sterling narrowed his eyes. Did Mr. Colburn just assume it’s cancer? This man was more than aware of the dowager’s illness.
Though he didn’t want to think much into it, rather classify it into forgetfulness.
He cleared his throat, "No, Mr. Colburn. It’s Cortalis Degeneration. And programs you say? We’re in the best hospital, using the best surgeons."
"I don’t believe it can’t be cured."
"You’re right about that. But until we find a specific surgeon... then Madam Colburn wouldn’t be okay."
"Then what is taking long? Why isn’t the surgeon already treating her?"
Mr. Sterling continued to observe Lucian. The more he spoke, the less he sounded like someone who forgot and more like someone who wasn’t aware.
He wasn’t sure if he should bring this matter to the Dowager. Something must be wrong with her grandson.
Mr. Sterling’s expression shifted from professional to perplexed. He adjusted his glasses, looking at the man before him. "President Lucian, did something happen? You sound as if you’re hearing this for the first time."
Lucian maintained a mask of cold indifference. Internally, he realized his wife must have kept his memory loss a secret to avoid alarming his grandmother. He couldn’t afford to look weak now.
"I’m simply questioning the logic," Lucian countered, using a steady tone. "Why ask?"
Mr. Sterling’s tone turned somber, "Because you were the one who led the search for him. The only surgeon capable of this is Dr. Briony Ashcroft. He is the only one who can perform the procedure, as he was part of the original team that cured the very first patient with Cortalis Degeneration. But he is nowhere to be found."
Lucian’s eyes narrowed into slits. "Nowhere to be found? In this day and age?"
"The entire medical team died in a plane crash while they were on their way here to treat your grandmother," Sterling explained. "The doctor is rumored to have died with them, though the police never found his body. The records of that first successful case are gone."
"Someone survived, right? Then find them. If the doctor is alive, the survivor is the only blueprint we have to trace him. Use their records."
Mr. Sterling shook his head. "We can’t, President Lucian. The records were proprietary—they went down with the plane. And the patient’s identity was sealed under a high-level NDA. It was an unauthorized, illegal operation. Even I don’t have a name."
Lucian went quiet, processing the gravity of the situation. A missing doctor and a dead team. How on earth were they supposed to find them?
"Which is why Madam Colburn wants to take this public," Sterling continued. "She’s offering a three-hundred-million-dollar reward to anyone who can identify that patient. I need your consent before we announce it."
Lucian narrowed his eyes. "If it’s the only way to find them, then you have my consent–"
"No need for a public announcement. I know who the first patient is," a voice interrupted.
Both men turned toward the source of the interruption.
...
Reyna stood frozen on the sidewalk, while the heavy autumn wind whipped her scarf against her face. She had rushed out of the jewelry store to watch the obsidian-black Maybach reverse from the side walk.
"Honey? This must be some sort of joke," she scoffed to the empty air as her trembling voice mixed with rage and disbelief.
She looked down at the crumpled velvet pouch in her pocket—the "excess" jewelry she had just tried to pawn off like a common beggar. All because of the stupid debt she was owing Brianna.
Because of Brianna the receptionist’s had accused her of owning cheap jewelry.
Reyna’s eyes darkened, turning a sickly shade of green. "That man..."
As she watched the car take off, she quickly entered her car. Gripping her steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned red. Her chest rose and fell at the memory of her sister.
Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror where a few paparazzi were still tucking away their lenses. Were they here for her or her sister?
She laughed, "A stunt. That’s all it is. A cheap performance for the cameras. Brianna, you pathetic actress... you actually hired a model to play the ’doting billionaire’ just to save face in front of me?"
She scoffed ridiculously. It made sense. Everything about that man—it was too perfect. It was a movie set. Brianna was still the same "barren" failure, she was just spending her last cent on a high-end escort to buy herself a few minutes of dignity.
"Mommy! He hit me!"
"I did not!"
The annoying cry from the backseat snapped Reyna’s patience like a dry twig. She whirled around, her face contorting into a mask of pure resentment.
"Shut up! Both of you! Mummy is trying to think!" she shrieked.
Looking at them—she felt like looking at the chains around her own ankles. If it weren’t for them, she wouldn’t be pawning old jewelry. She would be the one in the silk dresses. She would be the one being pampered.
’Brianna is out there living her youth, and I’m stuck in this rolling cage,’ she thought, her hatred for her sister bloomed darker like the setting of sun.
She bit her lip until she tasted copper. But that man... even if he was an actor, the way he looked at Brianna... He did not just look at her, he looked at her with a heavy, possessive intensity that didn’t feel like a script.
No, he is just good at acting. There was no way–
