Chapter 159: Julian Fletcher and Victor Quinn Join Forces Against Asher

Chapter 159: Chapter 159: Julian Fletcher and Victor Quinn Join Forces Against Asher

"Sebastian, your grandfather is gone. You must preside over the funeral," Master Lancaster said in a low voice, stepping out of his car.

I watched him warily. I knew he hadn’t come just for the funeral.

"Your grandfather’s body is still in the morgue. We need a signature from a direct relative for the cremation. You can’t let him be denied his final rest, can you?" Master Lancaster said, his face a mask of compassion, as if he were merely an elder concerned about the younger generation.

I frowned. It was only when I saw the cars following them that I understood: reporters were here.

The death of the Lancaster patriarch was a major event in the business world, and the media was watching closely. Even if Master Lancaster was just putting on a show, he had to make it convincing.

I stepped in front of Asher and whispered, "Asher, don’t be afraid..."

’As long as the media is here, Asher is safe for the time being.’

’They can’t exactly kill him in the spotlight.’

I could feel the sharp, unseen glare from Master Lancaster. I knew he was furious—furious that he’d failed to kill Sebastian Lancaster on the way to the mental hospital a few days ago. Now, with the media swarming, trying anything would be difficult.

Asher, standing behind me, gave a look to the man holding Erin Whittaker, signaling him to let go.

The man dropped his hands and moved to stand behind Asher, his very presence dropping the temperature in the air.

I could see that Asher trusted him implicitly.

"President Fletcher, thank you for helping me find Sebastian. This child has always been a free spirit; we can’t seem to keep him tied down at home," Master Lancaster said with a laugh. In front of the reporters, he was the very picture of a kind, old man.

Julian Fletcher stepped forward, his own hostility reined in. He was a businessman, after all—cut from the same cloth as Master Lancaster.

"The head of our main family branch has passed away, which is a somber affair. We’ll hold off on the pleasantries for now. At the upcoming charity gala, we can discuss a potential collaboration between our two companies in earnest." Master Lancaster extended a hand toward Julian Fletcher.

This collaboration he mentioned was one between the Lancaster Group and the Fletcher Group.

’Clearly, he already considers himself the master of the Lancaster Group.’

’He was also deliberately talking about partnering with the Fletcher Group in front of the media...’

’He wants to generate hype and pressure Asher at the same time.’

I glanced back at Asher, worried, but there seemed to be an imperceptible smile playing on his lips.

"Asher..." I whispered. "The media is here, so he won’t do anything to you for now. Just placate him. Don’t fight back. Stay with me, and we’ll play it by ear."

Asher reined in his emotions, his eyes shimmering with fear. "Cece will protect me."

I squeezed Asher’s hand and nodded, then turned to face the reporters, dabbing at my eyes. "My husband, Sebastian, has been heartbroken since his grandfather’s passing. He’s been doing his best to process his grief, and I’m certain he’ll move past this sorrow soon to manage the Lancaster Group properly. He won’t let his grandfather’s life’s work go to waste."

The reporters’ lenses all swiveled toward Asher.

He looked disgusted by the attention, but he didn’t flinch.

"Is it true that Sebastian Lancaster suffers from a mental illness?" a reporter called out.

I offered the reporter a small smile. "I believe every so-called normal person has their own mental battles to fight. He is doing very well. He’s perfectly normal. In fact, he made a full recovery long ago."

"Are you Sebastian Lancaster’s wife? Now that the Lancaster patriarch is gone, who’s going to run the company? The rumor is that nobody wants someone with a history of mental illness in charge, and that Master Lancaster commands the most respect."

Master Lancaster’s face was grim; he clearly wasn’t happy about the reporters meddling.

"Master Lancaster is from a collateral branch of the family. He has benefited greatly from the Lancasters and from my husband’s grandfather. But as the sole heir, the Lancaster Group should rightfully belong to Sebastian." I stared at Master Lancaster, my gaze openly defiant.

’We still haven’t settled the score for him nearly killing Asher.’

Master Lancaster gave me a long, meaningful look but, for once, remained completely silent.

’Strange behavior means trouble is brewing. He’s definitely plotting something wicked.’

"Cece... I want to go home," Asher whispered from behind me.

I nodded reassuringly, trying to project an aura of ’Don’t be afraid, I’ll protect you.’

The reporters looked like they had more questions, but I cut them off. "My apologies, I’m getting tired. I’m several months pregnant, and standing for too long is making me dizzy. We’re going to take our leave now."

I leaned against Asher, deliberately mentioning my pregnancy again just to get under Master Lancaster’s skin.

’Even if Asher is gone, there’s still my baby.’

"Sir, Madam." Owen Foster’s car was parked nearby. He held the door open for us.

I glanced at the man behind Asher. He wore a baseball cap and hadn’t said a word, but he remained protectively and vigilantly behind Asher.

"Who is he...?" I asked quietly after we got into the car.

"A bodyguard." Before Asher could explain, the man himself answered.

"He’s Assistant Foster’s adopted son, Felix Foster. He’s here to protect us," Asher added in a low voice.

The man, Felix, let out a barely audible huff, pulling his cap’s brim lower as he stared out the window.

’It wasn’t my imagination; I could feel a faint hostility coming from him. I just couldn’t figure out if it was directed at me or someone else...’

’I glanced at Asher, then at Assistant Foster.’

’One is his adoptive father, the other his employer. The hostility couldn’t be for them... so it must be for me?’

’But I haven’t done anything to offend him...’

"Assistant Foster, did you arrange for the reporters ahead of time?" I asked.

Assistant Foster met my eyes in the rearview mirror for a moment before nodding. "I did."

I breathed a sigh of relief. ’They aren’t completely helpless, then. At least Asher didn’t come here to fight this battle alone.’

’He even knew to bring a bodyguard to hold Erin Whittaker hostage and to notify the media in advance to corner Master Lancaster.’

"Cece, you’re incredible," Asher said, beaming at me. "When you’re around, they don’t dare bully me." His smile was so pure and innocent.

I felt a pang of guilt. ’Uh, weren’t you the one who came to rescue me, buddy?’

From the passenger seat, Felix Foster let out another "Hmph."

’I wondered if he had sinus problems or something...’

As Assistant Foster drove past Master Lancaster’s car, I glanced out the window, and my face fell.

The person in Master Lancaster’s car, the one who hadn’t gotten out, was none other than Victor Quinn.

I had investigated Victor Quinn before. He was a brilliant psychiatrist and a renowned psychologist in Meridia. He had won countless awards years ago, even receiving the highest honors in his profession. He was considered a prodigy in the field of mental illness, not just in Meridia, but across the globe.

The most disturbing thing was his primary area of research: the treatment of children with XYY syndrome—"supermales"—and those deemed to be born "bad seeds."

It’s a well-known fact that XYY syndrome is a genetic abnormality. Sufferers have violent tempers that are nearly impossible to control. Curing their "condition" without gene therapy should be impossible.

And yet, Victor Quinn boasted innumerable successful clinical trials and case studies. Countless parents, drawn by his fame, would personally deliver the children they considered "bad seeds" into his hands, just so their child could emerge from his care "normal."

Victor Quinn rolled down his window and glanced our way.

A chill shot down my spine. My breath hitched, and I instinctively broke his gaze.

’Danger.’

’A voice in my head screamed that this man was dangerous.’

"Victor Quinn... why is he with Master Lancaster?" My voice trembled slightly as I spoke.

"With the media involved, Master Lancaster would raise too much suspicion if he tried to eliminate the young master now," Owen Foster explained quietly. "He must have switched tactics. He’s going to use the young master’s past mental health issues as an angle and work with a psychiatrist..."

My breath caught in my throat. I knew what they were planning.

They wanted to use Asher’s "illness" as an excuse to force him into a so-called "treatment."

Since they couldn’t eliminate Asher, they would try to break him and turn him into an obedient doll...

I looked at Asher, terrified, and squeezed his hand tightly. "I won’t let them hurt you. No one will."