Chapter 173: Chapter 173



“Are you insane?” Joelle disconnected the call. Since her divorce, she had transformed into a woman who neither wasted time nor minced words.

“Come in,” she called out.

Rafael entered the room, his expression concerned. “The doctor from your prenatal checkup just called. She’s worried about the baby’s positioning, so I came to see how you’re doing.”

Joelle nodded, a hint of discomfort crossing her face as she lifted her shirt.

Rafael was a consummate professional. Patient gender made no difference to him, and in this foreign land, he was Joelle’s sole confidant. Joelle marveled silently at the enormity of her once petite frame, now rounded like a watermelon.

Rafael carefully pressed her abdomen, echoing the prenatal doctor’s concerns about the baby’s suboptimal positioning, which might complicate the delivery but could potentially be mitigated through certain maneuvers.

“Joelle, would it be alright if I try a few massage techniques to adjust the baby’s position?” he asked gently.

Feeling particularly weary and sore, Joelle consented without hesitation. “No, I don’t mind.”

Rafael settled on the edge of the bed and began the massage. His hands were warm, his touch expert and gentle. Caught between tension and relaxation, Joelle gradually succumbed to sleep.

Rafael placed three pillows around her to ensure she was comfortable. After doing this, he noticed that Joelle’s phone had been lit up for a while. Adrian was calling again.

With a moment’s hesitation, he answered.

“Joelle, you’ve got some nerve hanging up on me! Who do you think you are?”

Rafael remained silent, absorbing the harshness of his tone.

Adrian continued, “So, you’re with Rafael now, huh? Do you really like him? If so, why did you drug me and sleep with me not long before?”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Rafael’s face, and after a silent pause, he ended the call.

Looking over at Joelle, who lay peacefully asleep, he chose not to disturb her with the details of the call. Silently, he exited the room, leaving her to rest.

When Adrian discovered that both Joelle and Rafael were abroad, he booked a ticket immediately, unable to accept his ex-wife and former friend together.

His anger was palpable, and not even his assistant could soothe him. “Mr. Miller, the company still needs your direction for several issues.”

Adrian continued striding forward. “Have Michael handle them.”

“But…” The assistant hesitated, then cautioned, “Your absence might embolden others to create problems.”

Adrian paused, considering. Quincy had been seeking an audience with him. He decided to confront Quincy before leaving for the airport.

Despite sharing a home for years, private conversations between them were rare. In their secluded meeting, Quincy attempted to exert his elder status.

“Do you recognize these coffee beans? Your father was fond of these. I once paid over a million dollars for some, but sadly, he died before he could taste them.”

Adrian didn’t respond, nor did he reach for the coffee. Amara had ingrained in him from a young age that their family and Quincy’s branch had a longstanding rift, making a genuine relationship between them impossible. Noticing Adrian’s disinterest, Quincy set the cup down and sighed.

“Adrian, I believe there have been some misunderstandings between us over the years.”

Adrian, sitting back with his arms crossed over his thighs, replied coolly, “Indeed, you owe me some explanations about past events.”

Uncertain of how much Adrian knew about the past, he remained guarded. Given the passage of time, he believed that any evidence that might have existed had long since vanished, rendering Adrian’s search futile.

“Adrian, believe it or not, I had no part in your father’s death. He was my brother. How could I harm him?”

Adrian’s expression remained stoic, but his grip tightened on his armrest, his knuckles whitening at the mention of his father.

“Why did you want to see me?” Adrian finally asked.

Quincy exhaled deeply. “I understand you’re Lyla’s brother, but pressing further could complicate things for me. Lyla had good intentions but made a poor decision. We’re family. Shouldn’t we try to protect each other?”

Adrian uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, refilling his cup from the table.

“Are you worried I’ll find something more incriminating if I continue digging? Intellectual property infringement is serious, potentially resulting in prison.”

Quincy’s expression clouded briefly. “Adrian, I’m your uncle. Why would I want to harm you?”

Adrian’s scoff was sharp. “Oh? You didn’t hesitate with your brother. Why should I be any different?”

“You—”

Adrian remained composed. “Or perhaps you’ve attempted something before and simply failed?”

Quincy stood abruptly, anger flaring. “Don’t make baseless accusations! Do you have any proof?”

“I don’t need proof,” Adrian countered icily, his gaze unyielding. “A lawsuit alone could see you imprisoned.”

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