"Jonathan, are you awake? Breakfast's ready. Everyone's waiting for you."
Standing by the door, Lynne Fletcher—Shawn's mother and Jonathan's stepmother—kept her voice low as she spoke.
Eleanor's eyes widened in shock. There was no way she could allow Lynne to see something so absurd.
With all the strength she had, Eleanor pushed Jonathan away and scrambled to find a place to hide. However, the second her feet touched the floor, her legs gave out, and she dropped hard, dragging the bedside lamp down with her.
The lamp hit the floor with a sharp crash and broke into pieces.
"Jonathan? What was that noise? Did something break? Are you okay?"
Concern filled Lynne's voice as her knocking turned faster and more insistent, as though she was ready to force the door open.
Even so, Eleanor understood that Lynne wouldn't step inside. Jonathan had always disliked this stepmother, who rose from being a mistress.
Still, Eleanor didn't expect Jonathan to rise from the bed and head straight for the door.
What was he thinking?
Reacting quickly, Eleanor caught hold of his wrist.
Looking up at him, she pleaded in silence, hoping he wouldn't open it.
Jonathan glanced down at her, and a flicker of cold detachment passed through his eyes. Then he pulled his arm free and kept walking toward the door.
All Eleanor could do was watch as his hand reached for the handle.
The door swung open.
"Jonathan, are you alright? What just happened?"
As soon as the door parted, Lynne spoke again in a worried tone, her expression carefully shaped with concern.
In his mind, Jonathan sneered at her performance. She played the part perfectly.
From the moment he came back, Lynne had been monitoring him like this, and it was impossible to tell if she ever grew tired of pretending.
Leaning against the doorframe, he stood there with an unreadable, distant gaze.
"I accidentally knocked the lamp over. It shattered."
At his words, Lynne leaned slightly to look inside and caught sight of broken glass scattered across the floor through the opening.
Relief crossed her face, and she smiled. "You're still so careless. You're already an adult, yet you don't even know how to look after yourself. If you were injured, your father would be devastated."
A quiet, mocking laugh escaped Jonathan. "He wouldn't care. If anything, he'd prefer I were gone."
That remark nearly broke Lynne's composure, and her smile stiffened for a second. After regaining herself, she continued, "Don't talk like that. There's glass everywhere in there, so let me call someone to clean it."
"That's unnecessary."
Right after replying, he pushed the door shut.
The door nearly smacked Lynne in the face.
For a brief moment, Lynne remained where she was, her smile fixed in place, before she quickly adjusted it back into a gentle expression. "Jonathan, come down to eat when you're done. You shouldn't skip meals. You left the party early last night, so you probably didn't eat enough."
Silence answered her from inside. Only then did Lynne drop the act and make her way downstairs.
Jonathan's biological mother, Vivian Greene, had passed away years ago. Soon after that, Robert brought Lynne and their two children, born outside the marriage, into the Fletcher family.
From that moment forward, Jonathan stopped coming home. He only returned three months ago, and this time, he came back as a shareholder of Fletcher Group. With the shares Vivian left behind, even Robert couldn't interfere with him within the company.
Lynne had no choice but to suppress her frustration and continue pretending.
Now that her own son was disabled, even with Robert favoring him, they still couldn't push Jonathan out.
Everything would only change if Shawn regained his sight and could stand again.
By the time Lynne stepped into the dining room, her soft, pleasant smile had already returned.
"Jonathan just got up. He'll be coming down shortly."
With that, she entered calmly and took her seat.
Seated at the head of the table, Robert scoffed, "He has no sense of respect. He's making me wait for him at the breakfast table."
Lynne simply smiled faintly and stayed quiet.
Nearby, Jenna Fletcher, Lynne's daughter, curled her lips in disdain. "He's never considered us family. He won't even sit down to eat with us."
"Jenna," Lynne said with a warning look.
Only then did Jenna stop talking.
Rising from her seat, Lynne went to the kitchen, prepared a serving of hot breakfast, and passed them to Jenna. "Bring this over to Shawn."
At once, Jenna's face darkened.
"This late already, and Eleanor still hasn't shown up to get his breakfast? Now I'm the one who has to deliver it? She's completely useless as a caregiver."
Ever since Shawn lost his mobility, he had been staying in a smaller house behind the main villa. Eleanor arranged advanced medical equipment there so his condition could be monitored at all times.
Over the past two years, Eleanor had looked after Shawn day in and day out. In Jenna's eyes, she was never a sister-in-law, only someone hired to care for him.
Robert and Lynne had grown accustomed to that attitude, and neither of them found anything inappropriate about Jenna's words.
After all, Eleanor had been the bride Robert had "bought" for Shawn.
"Enough of that. Just take the food over and stop complaining. Make sure he eats," Lynne said.
Jenna understood how much Shawn meant to her mother. Even though irritation lingered, she held her tongue, picked up the insulated container, and walked toward the back building.
As she walked away, she silently cursed Eleanor for neglecting her duties again.
