Chapter 162
Timothy's face darkened instantly. "How is what's betweenand her such a mess?"
"Seven years ago, you were ready to bring her into the family. If that's not a mess, | don't know what is."
Of all the things in his life, this was the one thing Phelps could never forgive in Timothy.
What was he thinking?
Timothy's lips pressed into a thin, tense line. Phelps knew that bringing this up always set off another round of
friction between grandfather and grandson. His voice softened, tinged with a rare gravity. "I'm not blaming you,
truly. She did save your life, after all, and paid a heavy price for it-nearly lost her ability to speak, suffered more
hardship than most would ever know. You felt guilty, wanted to give her a future—I understood that. | never
objected. But in the end, she's still, in name, your mother's..."
The word "sister" caught in Phelps's throat, and he paused.
After everything exploded between Timothy and Sheila, it seemed like only a blink before he brought Jessica-the
girl who couldn't speak-back home, insisting he would marry her.
Back then, the doctors had all but confirmed Sheila would never talk again.
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Could it be...?
Suddenly, Phelps's expression grew even more severe.
All these years, he'd never considered this possibility. He'd always assumed Timothy, furious at both families’
disapproval of Sheila, had dragged ha mute girl to spite them, to make them uncomfortable.
But now, maybe it hadn't been that simple.
Did he still care for Sheila? Was this a wound that never healed?
No. Something like that couldn't be allowed to happen in the Lawson family.
Phelps changed tack. "I hear you've been pulling strings for Jessica lately, trying to get Ines to take her on as a
student. That's a good idea—I support you. Repaying kindness doesn't mean you have to marry her. Especially
since you have a wife and son now. The Lawson family will take care of her, but beyond that, | ask you to think
carefully."
The storm on Timothy's face faded, and he replied coolly, "You're overthinking it."
For a moment, Phelps couldn't tell which situation Timothy was dismissing-him and Sheila, or him and Jessica.
Timothy picked up the handmade ceramic mug in front of him, his movements graceful as he drank the tea in
three measured sips.
Setting down the mug, he glanced up at Phelps. "If you're so worried, then stay out of things betweenand
Jessica."
With that, Timothy stood, turned, and strode out.
Even after he'd gone, the study seemed to resonate with the force of his presence.
Phelps sipped his tea, his thoughts swirling in confusion.
His eldest grandson was growing more formidable by the day. After a lifetof navigating people, he realized
he still couldn't see through this boy who carried his blood.
Timothy left the Lawson estate, climbed into his car, and lit a cigarette, irritation simmering beneath his calm
exterior.
He pulled out his phone, checking for missed calls or messages.
Nothing.
He took a deeper drag.
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Tomorrow, Jessica would cback. She always did.
In seven years of marriage, he'd never seen a single friend or relative by her side;
it was always just him and Henry.
As for Herbert-after what the old man had pulled with the Wheeler Group, Jessica would never dare reach out to
him again, not with her personality.
He saw no need to clarify anything. Let her think he was the one behind it all.
She'd learn soon enough that his authority as her husband was not to be challenged. Sooner or later, she'd come
around.
He'd conquered countless rivals in the business world. One woman? He refused to believe she'd be any different.
Meanwhile, Jessica spotted a secondhand luxury shop and stepped inside.
She still had two things of value left.
On her birthday, Timothy had given her a pearl necklace. Pinned to her coat was a brooch he'd insisted she wear.
She unclasped both, handed them to the shop owner, and typed a message into her phone:
"I'd like to sell these. Could you givean estimate?"
The proprietor, a seasoned hand at luxury goods, took one look and knew exactly what he was dealing with.