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Genius Kids‘ Scheme: Claiming Daddy’s Billionaire Empre
Chapter 97
Thomas juggled the tray of therapeutic bath solution as he nudged the treatment room door open with his shoulder. “Sir, I’ve brought the
He froze mid–sentence, nearly dropping the tray.
There was Adam–his always–distant, touch–averse boss–gently dabbing Irene’s forehead with a handkerchief, his expression softer than Thomas had ever seen it. And Dr. Sterling? That flash of vulnerability on her usually composed face was something else entirely.
Oh. My. God. Thomas’s brain short–circuited before emergency protocols kicked in. Don’t see That’s how you lose your bonus.
- it.
Don’t think it. Don’t acknowledge it.
With the reflexes of someone who’d witnessed far too many awkward rich–people moments, Thomas wiped all surprise from his face, set the tray down silently, and melted into his corner spot. Wall–staring became his new passion as he did his best impression of expensive furniture.
Completely unfazed–or pretending to be–Irene finished the treatment with practiced efficiency, her fingers dancing across controls with seamless precision.
“That’s it for this part,” she said, letting out a deep breath as she straightened up. Her shoulders rolled slightly, releasing the tension from her focused work. “Take five before we start the bath.”
As she packed up her equipment, Irene grabbed the container Thomas had brought in, frowning as she examined the contents.
“This won’t work anymore,” she said, swirling the liquid slightly.
Adam raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”
T
A
“I tweaked your treatment approach,” she explained, setting the container down. “Your legs are responding differently now. This solution would be like putting regular gas in a sports car–technically works but misses the point.”
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve got something better at my place. Don’t jump in the bath yet–I’ll grab it real
quick.
“Whatever you think best,” Adam replied with the kind of automatic trust he typically reserved for… absolutely no one.
Thomas found himself nodding along. Dr. Sterling is a freaking miracle worker! The improvement in Mr. Haven’s condition over the past weeks spoke for itself.
Irene grabbed her phone and headed for the door. “Back in five.”
The evening air hit Irene’s face like a welcome reset button. After the intensity of the treatment–and whatever that moment with the handkerchief was–the cool breeze cleared her head.
She was halfway down the path when the click of heels made her look up. A blonde figure in cream designer wear approached from the opposite direction, backlit by garden lights.
Both women stopped short, equally startled.
Irene found herself face–to–face with a walking fashion editorial–flawless makeup, not–a–hair–out–of–place blonde waves, and clothes that screamed “my purse costs more than your car.”
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Chapter 97
Who makes house calls at 10 PA1? Irene wondered, her guard instantly up.
Across from her, Samantha was having her own mental meltdown. Sed arrived clutching her carefully selected birthday invitation, convinced this personal delivery would be the charm offensive that ally got Adam’s attention. After days without seeing him, her mother’s advice echoed in her ears: “Just keep showing up until he can’t imagine life without you.”
Finding another woman at his home this late hadn’t been in the script.
Despite her casual outfit–just jeans and a loose top–the woman before her was irritatingly gorgeous. The kind of effortless beauty that made Samantha’s two–hour pre–visit prep routine seem like a sa joke. No makeup, messy ponytail, yet somehow looking like she’d walked off a magazine cover.
“Who are you?” Samantha demanded, not bothering to hide her hostility. “What are you doing
here?”
Irene’s eyebrow arched slightly. Instead of answering, she countered coolly: “And you are?”
The dismissive tone made Samantha’s perfectly contoured cheeks flush. The audacity! This nobody questioning her–Samantha, practically Haven Enterprises‘ next First Lady if her mother had anything to say about it.
She was about to declare her status as Adam’s unofficially official fiancée when the front door opened behind Irene.
Thomas appeared, his surprise poorly concealed. “Miss Wright? Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
His mind flashed back to Samantha’s previous unannounced visit–showing up at the crack of dawn with homemade breakfast and that same hopeful expression. After Mr. Haven’s arctic reception that morning, Thomas had been certain she wouldn’t try the surprise approach again. Most society princesses like Samantha would’ve retreated to nurse their wounded pride after such a dismissal, yet here she was, apparently immune to rejection.
Guess the Haven name is worth more than a little humiliation, Thomas thought, his face a professionally crafted blank canvas. If wealthy employers paid extra for staff who could witness awkward moments without so much as blinking, Thomas would be earning triple.
Like flipping a switch, Samantha’s entire demeanor transformed. The tight–lipped hostility vanished, replaced by a warm smile that never quite reached her eyes.
“Thomas!” she beamed, voice honey–sweet. “Just stopping by to see Adam. Is he home?”
Irene watched the personality transplant with detached amusement. So this is the infamous Samantha. She recalled Adam’s rare mentions of his mother’s matchmaking attempts. Fascinating–she switches from ice queen to bestie faster than most people change their mind about dieting.
Thomas shifted uncomfortably, choosing his words with the care of someone defusing a bomb. “Mr. Haven is home, but he’s… not
available at the moment.”
Samantha blinked, momentarily thrown. Not available? But then who was this woman and why did she have all–access privileges while Samantha–basically his future wife in every gossip column–was being doorblocked?
“Is he working?” she persisted, maintaining her sugary tone. “I don’t mind waiting.” Her eyes flicked meaningfully toward Irene, the subtext crystal clear: If this random woman gets entry, why can’t I?
Irene’s lips quirked into a slight smile. The woman’s jealousy was almost entertaining, but she had more important things to do- Like getting Adam’s proper treatment solution.
Without bothering to introduce herself or acknowledge the awkward standoff, Irene simply walked away. Whatever drama this Samantha woman was brewing wasn’t her problem. Adam needed his treatment, and that trumped social niceties with someone who’d been nothing but rude from hello.
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Chapter 97
As she headed toward her villa, Irene couldn’t help wondering what would happen next. Would Thomas cave? Would Adam unleash his legendary cold shoulder?
Not that it mattered. She had medicine to deliver, and medicine didnt care about rich people drama.
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