NovelFameChapter 331
Phelps emerged from behind a tombstone, leaning heavily on his cane.
And in that instant, Timothy finally understood.
He'd been tricked-lured here by his own father and grandfather.
Fury surged through him as he gripped the sledgehammer in his hand, his knuckles white. He swung the heavy
tool, its iron head pointing straight at Naylor. "Was this your doing?" His voice was cold and dangerous.
Naylor, pale and shaken, scurried to Phelps's side. "Dad, it was your idea! You have to explain to Timothy-it
wasn't all me!"
Phelps's voice cracked like a whip. "Have you ever been this stupid before? If you were going to leave the
hammer, couldn't you at least have tossed it farther away?"
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Naylor stared down at his shoes, unable to meet his father's eyes or his son's. He'd always felt caught in the
middle-his father, sharp and forceful even in old age, and Timothy, the rising star who'd already outshone them
both. Naylor was just... ordinary, stuck between two storms.
Timothy's chiseled features were shadowed and tense, a vein throbbing at his temple. They were all mad-
tampering with his mother's grave just to lure him back?
Phelps's voice was low, commanding. "Timothy, let's go. We need to get back to The Gilded Whisper Estates and
settle your divorce with Jessica."
Timothy's lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line, his eyes dark as midnight. Without warning, he hurled the
sledgehammer away. Naylor flinched, shielding his head, but the hammer landed with a thud right at Phelps and
Naylor's feet.
Pain shot through Timothy's abdomen-he'd torn open his wound again, staining his white shirt crimson.
A flash of real concern flickered in Phelps's rheumy eyes. "Timothy, you're hurt?”
But Timothy was already striding
f
away, piecing it all together. Jessica must have told Phelps what happened that night. She hadn't gone to the
police, just reached out to the disability and women's advocacy groups. Threatening to press charges would've
been enough to set Phelps in
motion-he'd want Timothy out of the way, and the Lawson family to step in and manage the divorce.
He realized, with a bitter pang, that he'd never truly understood Jessica. She seemed fragile, but she could strike
back just as hard, in her own way. By now, she was probably already gone.
He had to get back. The whole incident had been a misunderstanding—one he'd never explained, and if he
didn't, it would fester, poisoning everything between them.
At a glance from Phelps, the men he'd brought with him stepped forward, blocking Timothy's path.
Timothy shot a steely glare at his grandfather. "You're really going to stop me?"
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Phelps pressed on, voice urgent but weary. "Don't be reckless, Timothy. You know exactly what you did, don't
you? Jessica is a registered disabled person-she's in a protected class, and the authorities treat these matters
very seriously. Do you really want to destroy The Lawson Group? There are plenty of rivals just waiting for a
scandal. If word got out, you'd have a feeding frenzy on your hands. Think about what's at stake, son."
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Timothy had been raised as the sole heir to The Lawson Group. Responsibility had been drilled into him since
childhood-business. alway@cfirst. All this, overa woman-a woman who couldn't even speak? Phelps couldn't
understand why Timothy was making such a mess over this.
But what Phelps didn't expect was for Timothy to walk right up to him, face unreadable, and yank the
sledgehammer from the earth. Without hesitation, Timothy hefted it onto his shoulder and strode toward the
men blocking his way. He swung the hammer.
The crowd scattered, falling back in panic, and a clear path opened before him.
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