From Deadbeat To Doting; Something Is Wrong With My Husband!-Chapter 55: Brian. Brian Blythe

Downstairs, Thomas was waiting by the foyer, startled by the sudden, aggressive speed of Lucian’s descent. Lucian grabbed his suit jacket from the table, throwing it on with a sharp, violent grace.

"President Lucian, are you going out?" Thomas was surprised. "We have the briefing—"

"I need to get something from the pharmacy," Lucian interrupted coldly.

Blinking, "The pharmacy? Sir, please, let me go. Just give me the name of the medication."

Pausing, Lucian’s hand was still on the door handle. A spasm of irritation crossed his face. He didn’t actually know the name; he only had the mental image of the empty packet burned into his memory.

Lucian snapped in a tone that suggested it was Thomas’s fault for asking. "No. I don’t know the name. But I know what the box looks like. I’ll find it faster if I go."

Thomas grabbed his own coat from the rack, not missing a beat. "Then I’m coming with you. Two sets of eyes are better than one if we’re hunting for a mystery box."

"Fine. But if you take more than five minutes to get to the car, you’re walking back to the office tomorrow."

Upon reaching the pharmacy, Lucian’s hand hovered over the door handle. He turned to Thomas, who was already unfastening his seatbelt. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"Wait in the car. I’m going in alone." he commanded.

Pausing, Thomas furrowed his brow in confusion. President Lucian had never done anything without him, in all their nine years of working together.

Was he already thinking of replacing him?

"What exactly are you looking for? If it’s specialized, I might—"

But Thomas trailed off, Lucian didn’t even need to interrupt. Staring straight into Thomas’s eyes, with a gaze devoid of warmth.

The silence lasted only a second, but it was deafening.

Recognizing the immediate "do not cross" line, Thomas immediately dropped his hands, nodding slowly. "Understood. I’ll wait in the car."

The small bell above the pharmacy door jingled faintly under the pressure of the door opening.

Lucian stepped into the pharmacy, ignoring the small queue, his eyes scanned the aisles.

"Okay, sir. That’s everything. If you’d like me to–" The pharmacist, a middle-aged woman, froze mid-transaction. Her eyes widened as she recognized the face that dominated every financial headline in the country!

"President Colburn? It... it is an honor to have you in our pharmacy. Please, come forward."

It was a blatant breach of etiquette to cut the line, but the man currently at the counter didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he stepped aside with an eager, almost vulturous smile.

Lucian’s gaze passed to the man for a fraction of a second.

He felt a strange, odd sense of recognition. The man had a familiar bone structure; the same tilt of the eyes, the same straight bridge of the nose. He looked remarkably like Brianna!

But as Lucian’s eyes dropped to the man’s mouth, he felt a rush of irritation.

He doesn’t have her lips. He caught himself. Why was he suddenly obsessed with the plushness of Brianna’s lips in the middle of a pharmacy?

Narrowing his eyes, Lucian mentally shoved the thought back into the dark corner of his mind where it belonged.

The man offered a hand, his eyes sparkling with an intensity that Lucian usually found exhausting. "President Colburn, I’m—"

However, Lucian didn’t take the hand. He didn’t even acknowledge the gesture. He was too busy wondering if the concussion had finally affected his own sanity!

The pharmacist cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I need to see your female hygiene and specialized pain relief sector."

The pharmacist pointed to a section around the corner. Lucian walked toward the aisle, searching until his eyes landed on the exact green-and-white foil packaging he had seen in Brianna’s hand.

Holding the small box now, it looked absurdly delicate in his large powerful hand. As he returned to the counter, that man from earlier; who had been hovering like a moth to a flame, decided to seize the moment.

He started smoothly and intellectually. "Those don’t actually work, you know. Not for the severe cases. Women keep buying them out of habit, but the science is outdated."

Lucian couldn’t help but stare at the box he held between two fingers. He didn’t look at the man, but he was listening.

"If a pharmaceutical giant like Better Health partnered with a high-end hygiene firm to integrate pain-relief technology directly into the products... we could revolutionize the market," he continued, leaning in. "It’s a gap in the industry that no one is brave enough to bridge."

Lucian looked up from the box, then finally turned his gaze toward the man. For a moment, the CEO eclipsed the husband. It was a smart observation!

With a reflective baritone, Lucian pondered, "The integration of localized NSAIDs into hygiene products... Regulatory obstacles would be substantial."

"But the ROI would be historic," the man countered.

Lucian studied the man’s face again. The resemblance to Brianna was still there. "What did you say your name was?"

"Brian. Brian Blythe."

Lucian reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black business card. He didn’t hand it over; he placed it on the counter between them. "I’ll be in touch, Mr. Blythe. Don’t make me regret the time I just spent listening to you."

Without waiting for a thank you, Lucian paid for the medication and walked out.

By the time Lucian settled into the back seat of the car, his eyes tracked Brian Blythe as the man entered a sedan and pulled away into the city traffic.

He didn’t speak until the taillights vanished.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Thomas’s curiosity got the better of him. "Did you find the specific packaging you were looking for, President?"

Lucian looked down at the small pharmacy bag held in his hand, then back out the window. "Who is Brian Blythe?"

Hesitating, Thomas’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That’s Mrs. Colburn’s brother, sir. The eldest son of the Blythe family."

The resemblance he’d noticed earlier suddenly made sense, but it brought more questions than answers. He didn’t mention the connection. Why?

Thomas let out a short huff. "He Probably didn’t mention his connection to Mrs. Colburn."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he’s ashamed, or perhaps he’s just withholding information. You know the history, sir. Mrs. Colburn comes from a prominent family, but she wasn’t exactly their pride and joy. She was... obsessed with you."

Lucian remained silent.

"She manipulated your grandmother," Thomas continued, his voice laced with a touch of disgust. "She spent months maneuvering herself into the Senior Mrs. Colburn’s good graces just to secure that marriage contract. She forced her way into your life when you wanted nothing to do with her."

With an expression of concern, Thomas looked back at Lucian. "Have you really not regained that part of your memory yet? You used to loathe the very mention of her ’tactics.’ It was common knowledge in the inner circle."

Lucian stared at the passing streetlights. Manipulative. Obsessed. A strategist. Those words didn’t align with the woman who was currently in pain on her bed, refusing to even ask him for a glass of water.

"I don’t remember."

Thomas’s gaze dropped to the pharmacy bag resting on the expensive leather seat. "So, what did you end up buying? If it’s for the concussion, I should log it with the medical team."

Lucian’s fingers tightened around the paper bag, the crinkle sounding loud in the quiet car.

"It’s nothing," he snapped in a tone that brooked no further questions. "Just drive."

...

"Give this to my wife," Lucian didn’t look up as he slid a small pharmacy bag across the polished marble.

Blinking, Annie’s hands hovered over the bag. "Oh, sir. Why? Is something wrong with—" She peeked into the bag. The moment she saw the specific, a frantic heat climbed her neck, turning her face a vivid crimson.

She snatched the bag and went toward the stairs, glancing back over her shoulder twice. ’Mr. Colburn? Sweet? Since when was Mr. Colburn the ’sweet husband’ type?’

She had been around enough to see how Mrs. Colburn interacted with him!

At the master suite, Annie’s knuckles met the wood. One knock. Two. When there was no response, she pushed the door open, flicking the lights of the room on.

The sudden glare revealed Brianna crumpled on the bed, a pale silhouette against the silk sheets.

Annie set a glass of water on the nightstand with a soft clink.

Squinting against the light, Brianna turned to the door. "Annie? What are you doing in here?"

"I brought you this, Ma’am," Annie murmured, handing over the medication.

Brianna stared at the box. How did the new girl know? It was not just any painkiller; it was the exact, niche brand Brianna had used for years—the only one that actually touched the pain.

She looked up, her lips parting to demand how Annie could possibly know her medical history, but the question was scorched out of her.