CEO's Tears Over Pregnancy Test Discovery

Eugene's lips pressed into a thin line, his dark eyes staring off into nowhere.

Finally, the project leader, his voice hoarse from presenting, paused and looked at him expectantly. "Mr. Ford, what do you think?"

"It's fine," Eugene replied dismissively, rising from his seat without much interest. "Let's go with that."

Without waiting for a reaction from his bewildered employees, Eugene left the room. As soon as he stepped outside, his assistant hurried up to him, looking flustered. "Mr. Ford! There's someone here, demanding to see you."

Eugene paused mid-step. Moments later, he was downstairs, and as expected, he came face to face with Quincy. The tension between them was palpable, even more intense than it had been on the yacht. Both men stood rigid, cold expressions on their faces, as if a fight could break out at any moment.

The receptionist, sensing the hostility, looked on nervously, fearing she might get caught in the middle of whatever was about to unfold.

"Where is Lydia?" Quincy demanded, his voice icy.

He had spent all night searching, going to her family's house and checking every possible place. The only logical conclusion was that Eugene had taken her. After all, he had a history of doing just that.

Eugene, hands casually tucked in his pockets, raised an eyebrow, his tone indifferent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Quincy's anger flared.

"Don't play dumb, Eugene. You know exactly what I mean. No one else is obsessed with Lydia the way you are. And don't think I'm unaware that you've been pulling strings behind the scenes, stirring up all that online gossip."

Their eyes met. Quincy's gaze was

filled with anger and barely

restrained fury while Eugene's was sharp with provocation. The

receptionist covered her mothe

shock, worried about the fallout from this confrontation.

inCopyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

Eugene remained evasive, unwilling to reveal anything about Lydia's whereabouts. Quincy's patience was running, thin, but even so, he wasn't the type to cause a scene in public. Stepping closer, he locked eyes with Eugene, the tension between them electric.

"I will find her," Quincy said, his voice low and dangerous. "Lydia is my wife. Don't forget that."

The fake smile on Eugene's face

faded slowly, as if the pretense had been peeled away, revealing something much darker underneath. His eyes turned cold and calculating, as though weighing the

consequences of eliminating Quincy from the picture entirely.

Without another word, Quincy left, his steps purposeful. Eugene stood motionless, his expression unreadable.

Just then, his assistant rushed over, looking panicked. "Mr. Ford! I took a call from Mrs. Lucy at the house. She said Miss Lydia has a high fever."

Eugene's composure faltered for a brief moment, his usual calm exterior cracking as a shadow of concern passed over his face. His cold demeanor melted away, replaced with an intense urgency.

"Get the car ready. Now."

The assistant wasted no time. He knew better than anyone the kind of man Eugene was. He was a predator beneath a polished exterior, and their job was to make sure that predator stayed locked up. When Eugene arrived back at the villa, Lydia was still burning with fever. She had been mumbling incoherently and refused to be moved.

Mrs. Lucy, unable to get her to a hospital on her own, had been doing her best to bring the fever down.

At the sight of Eugene, Mrs. Lucy nearly sagged with relief. "Mr. Ford, thank goodness you're here!"