The next morning, Andrea stretched languidly as she woke up. Sitting up, her eyes quickly scanned the room before resting on Lucas Anderson, who was still deep in slumber beside her. Memories of the previous night's boldness flooded back, and a rush of embarrassment heated her cheeks. She had taken the lead in their intimacy, only to retreat afterward like a frightened mouse.
Rising from the bed, she tiptoed into the bathroom. As the shower rained down upon her, her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts.
"Am I really afraid of being intimate with Valentine, or am I afraid he's not 'the one'?" she whispered to herself, confusion lacing her voice. Her feelings were a tangled mess she could not unravel.
With a deep breath, she finished her shower and emerged from the bathroom, finding Lucas still lost in dreams. Hurrying, she dressed for work.
As she descended the stairs, she noticed Pete, already in his school uniform, looking sharp and ready.
"Mommy, good morning!" Pete chirped, his eyes sparkling with youthful exuberance.
"Good morning, my priceless emerald," Andrea replied, her smile as warm as the morning sun.
Pete's eyes grew wide with curiosity. "Mom, which is more expensive, a emerald or a diamond?"
Andrea paused, taken aback by her son's sudden inquisitiveness. She realized with a wry smile that a certain someone's influence might be at play beneath their roof.
Bending down, she planted a tender kiss on Pete's forehead. "Price tags don't matter, my love. You are beyond comparison; you are my entire world."
Pete's face lit up with joy, and feeling cherished, he gave his mother a rewarding peck on the cheek. "You're the best mommy in the world."
Humming contentedly, Andrea joined her son at the dining table, where they settled in for breakfast together.
After finishing breakfast, Andrea drove Pete to his school before heading to the hospital. Upon arrival, she got out of her car and made her way to Mrs. Anderson's ward. There, she found the doctor attending to Mrs. Anderson, who was surrounded by a myriad of medical tubes.
The doctor straightened up and caught Andrea's eye. "Mrs. Singers, please come with me," he said.
With a sense of trepidation, Andrea followed the doctor across the hall to a ward opposite Mrs. Anderson's. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw who was lying in the hospital bed. It was Benita, Valentine Anderson's sister.
Andrea shot the doctor a questioning look. "What happened?"
"The nurses found her collapsed on the floor this morning. It appears she's afflicted with the same condition as Mrs. Anderson, her mother," the doctor informed her, his eyes scanning over Benita's medical charts.
Andrea was silent, her thoughts unreadable. After a moment, she spoke up. "Please do everything you can for them. I will arrange for caregivers to support both."
With those final words, Andrea left the room with a solemn air. She walked a few paces before taking out her phone and dialing Tony's number.
Tony, who was just stepping out of the Anderson mansion, was informed by the Butler that Benita had not returned home the previous night and was still absent at 8 am. After failing to reach her by phone, he had decided to check her offices.
"Where are you, Tony?" Andrea's voice came through the moment he answered.
Tony's concern was evident in his tone. "I'm on my way. Is something wrong?"
"It's Benita; she's in the hospital. She's been diagnosed with the same illness as Mrs. Anderson. She's currently unconscious. I suspect the organization might be behind these incidents. I need you to investigate this," Andrea conveyed with urgency.
Tony gripping his phone with white-knuckled fury, seethed with anger. Lucas Anderson, it seemed, would not even spare his own sister. "I know who's responsible," he spat into the phone, his voice a low growl before he abruptly ended the call.
He stormed out of the Anderson mansion, his stride purposeful and brimming with rage. Sliding into his car, he revved the engine to life and tore off down the driveway, heading straight for the Singer estate.
Upon arrival, Tony leapt from the car and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Lucas Anderson, get out here now!"
His furious outburst sent the staff scurrying for cover, all except for Housekeeper Win, who had seen Tony grow up. She was taken aback by his rage, never having seen him this incensed, except when Mr. Singer's died.
"Tony, what on earth is going on?" Housekeeper Win inquired, her voice tinged with both shock and a hint of fear.
"I need to see Lucas Anderson," Tony demanded, his jaw set, his expression contorted with fury.
Housekeeper Win looked puzzled. "Who is Lucas Anderson?" she asked, not recognizing the name.
Tony opened his mouth to respond, then closed it without a word. He couldn't bear to refer to Lucas Anderson as Andrea's husband, Valentine Anderson. He stormed towards the master bedroom, with a flustered Housekeeper Win trailing behind him, calling out his name in concern.
But Tony was deaf to her pleas as he surged forward, his anger propelling him. He halted in his tracks as he laid eyes on Lucas Anderson standing casually in the doorway. Lucas was the picture of ease, his white shirt crisply buttoned, a charming smile playing on his lips, bathed in the golden sunlight that made him appear disarmingly handsome.
"You bastard!" Tony lunged forward, his fists ready to deliver his rage in physical form.
Lucas, with infuriating calm, dodged the punch with a deft side-step. Another punch was thrown, and again Lucas parried it effortlessly.
Housekeeper Win screamed, witnessing the violence. She sprinted down the stairs and dialed Andrea Singer's number on the house telephone, her voice shaking with alarm. "Ma'am Andrea, Sir Valentine and Tony are in a fight! You must come home quickly; someone could get hurt!" she urged, her face slick with sweat.
"I'm on my way," Andrea's voice came hurriedly from the other end.
Back in the doorway, Tony had thrown over thirty punches, and not one had made its mark. His fists were clenched, veins on his forehead standing out in stark relief as he glared at Lucas Anderson. "Who are you?"
"Valentine Anderson," Lucas replied with a chuckle, a taunting glint in his eyes.
The atmosphere tensed, and for a moment, there was silence. Lucas counted under his breath, a smug smile still plastered on his face. This incensed Tony even more, and with a primal yell, he threw another punch.
This time, unexpectedly, Lucas did not move. The punch landed, and Tony looked at him, stunned.
In that moment, Tony understood why Lucas hadn't dodged; the commotion downstairs heralded Andrea's arrival.
"Ma'am Andrea," the servants' anxious voices echoed from below.