Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 511

The receiver was quiet for a few seconds before Lawrence Lancaster let out a soft chuckle. "Silas."

His laughter sounded warm, but it was like a thin layer of ice over deep water—pleasant on the surface, with an imperceptible, biting chill underneath.

"After all these years, why haven't you learned to use your head? I told you it's a trump card. Why would I show my hand now?"

Silas gripped his phone tighter, his expression darkening.

"But don't worry. When it's time to play that card, I'll give you a hand. Right now, the timing isn't right."

"Got it, Uncle Lawrence..."

Silas didn't press further about the identity of this trump card.

He knew all too well that despite Lawrence's honeyed words, the older man was still guarding against him.

At the end of the day, in Lawrence's eyes, Silas was nothing more than an expendable pawn.

After hanging up, Silas stood on the balcony. The late autumn night wind whipped against his open shirt collar, but he felt numb to the cold.

He lowered his gaze to the faded scar on the back of his hand.

Hudson had given him that.

Silas closed his eyes. The seething hatred in his chest ignited like a spark, burning from his heart and coursing through his veins to every extremity.

The fury left him burning up.

He hated Hudson.

He hated him for destroying his ability to have children and for causing the death of his unborn child.

But he hated Lawrence even more!

If Lawrence hadn't driven a wedge between them back then, he and Hudson wouldn't have ended up like this.

Years ago, he had genuinely cared for Hudson as a brother.

Their parents had died early, and he had practically raised the boy, who was only three years his junior, acting as both father and mother.

That was, until Lawrence started whispering in his ear, over and over...

"Hudson is too smart. I'm afraid the Lancaster empire will eventually fall into his hands."

"If you don't plan ahead, you'll be left with nothing in the future."

He was young and hot-blooded back then. Hearing those words repeatedly drove a wedge deep into his heart.

He started guarding against Hudson, competing with him, and using every tactic to suppress him, wanting to crush him before he could spread his wings.

But Hudson's mind was naturally always a few steps ahead.

The more he tried to push him down, the higher Hudson climbed, eventually reaching a height Silas could no longer touch.

And what about him?

He was left with nothing but hatred.

This realization twisted in his chest like a poisoned blade, twisting deeper and hurting more with each passing day.

Nora was just wondering who could possibly earn such a disrespectful nickname when she heard him casually answer, "Hello, Professor..."

Nora was speechless.

Professor Douglas Campbell's booming voice came through the receiver. "Hudson, Jude and I just arrived in Chicago. Let's grab dinner tonight. I have something to discuss with you."

"Alright, you pick the place."

"Good. I'll have Jude text you the reservation. Seven o'clock."

After hanging up, Hudson glanced at Nora. "Do you want to come with me tonight? My professor has been wanting to meet you."

"Is... is that appropriate?"

Hudson reached over and ruffled her hair. "You're my wife. Why wouldn't it be?"

Nora smiled faintly. "Okay, I'll go with you."

...

Jude had booked a high-end restaurant not far from the hotel where Hudson and Nora were staying.

When Nora followed Hudson inside, two men were already seated in the private dining room.

One was Jude Winslow. The other, sitting at the head of the table, was a man in his late fifties leisurely sipping from a teacup. It was Douglas Campbell.

Seeing them enter, Jude quickly stood up. "You made it."

Hudson gave him a brief nod before wrapping an arm around Nora and turning to Douglas. "Professor, this is my wife, Nora."