I Was His Secret Genius, Now I’m His Biggest Regret Chapter 17

I Was His Secret Genius, Now I’m His Biggest Regret Chapter 17

Daisy let out a terrified cry. “Beau! Let go of my brother!”

No one paid her any attention.

Savannah put away her phone and, as if handling two disobedient animals, roughly shoved both children into the back of the Porsche, locking the child safety locks.

Beau leaned against the cold window, his face and body covered in mud. Daisy held him, crying for Beau, crying for Dad, until only suppressed sobs remained.

Calling for help was useless.

The Porsche sped back toward the brightly lit estate.

At the same time, a senior director of Montgomery Distillery, a family friend who had watched Clayton grow up, hung up the phone with a grave expression. After receiving an anonymous call from the old distiller about the children’s abuse, he had called Clayton three times. No one answered.

He couldn’t wait. He opened his contacts and found the number for the chief legal counsel of the Montgomery family trust. As a board member, he had a duty to report any emergency that might damage the interests of the family heirs.

The call connected.

“It’s me,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I need to submit an emergency report regarding Beau and Daisy Montgomery.”

In downtown Louisville, Clayton was signing a document in his office when his heart suddenly clenched. The pen tip scraped a harsh line across the paper. A nameless unease seized him, making it hard to breathe.

He thought of Ava. He thought of the dead stillness in her eyes before she left. He thought of the children. He hadn’t heard their voices in nearly a week.

He shot to his feet, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out of the office without his coat.

When Clayton pushed open the heavy oak doors of the estate, he was greeted not by the warmth of home, but by a shrill scolding.

“Beau, kneel properly! Don’t think pretending to be pitiful will work!”

It was Savannah’s voice.

His steps froze. His heart skipped a beat.

Then he heard crying, thin and suppressed. Daisy.

Clayton practically charged into the back garden.

The scene before him froze the blood in his veins.

Beau was kneeling in the garden mud. His expensive riding outfit was unrecognizable, covered in filth. His small face was pale, his lips pressed tightly together, stubbornly refusing to cry. Daisy was curled up by the wall, dirty and trembling like a frightened bird.

“What are you doing?” Clayton’s voice was colder than the air in the old icehouse.

When Savannah saw him, panic flashed across her face, but she instantly replaced it with a wronged expression. “Clayton, you’re back! These two are completely out of control. They tried to sneak out on horseback! I was only disciplining them!”

“Disciplining?” Clayton’s gaze swept over his son’s humiliating posture and his daughter’s terrified eyes.

At that moment, Beau lifted his head and saw his father. The fragile composure he had maintained shattered. “She kicked my horse! She stepped on me!”

Daisy ran over, throwing herself into Clayton’s arms. “She took pictures of Beau… she said we were wild children…”

Savannah’s face turned pale. “I didn’t! They’re lying! Clayton, you can’t believe them. You have to believe me!”

Before Clayton could speak, a sharp knock came from the main house, breaking the tense atmosphere.

The butler hurried over, his expression strange. “Sir, there are two lawyers at the door. They say…”

Before he could finish, a man and a woman in dark suits had already walked in. The man in front went straight to Clayton and showed his credentials.

“Mr. Montgomery,” he said, his voice emotionless but authoritative. “We are legal counsel for the Montgomery family trust. We have received an emergency report regarding the welfare of Beau and Daisy Montgomery, and we are here to conduct an immediate home visit and assessment.”