The Chauffeur Who Could Hear Thoughts Chapter 2

Once everyone was inside, Trent pulled up the records and held them out in front of Luke.

"September 12th, three hundred twenty thousand dollars in game top-ups. September 16th, a hundred and ten thousand on limited-edition sneakers. September 20th, seventy thousand on private image consulting classes."

Every charge was itemized in detail, adding up to exactly five hundred thousand.

"It wasn't me."

"This card has been in your hands the whole time, and the PIN is your birthday. You're telling me you didn't spend this money?"

Victor chimed in right on cue, sounding a little helpless. "Dad, don't be angry. Luke's probably just too embarrassed to admit it."

He turned to Luke and sighed softly. "The game top-ups and the sneakers are the kind of things guys like. If you really wanted them, you could've just told us. There's no need to sneak around."

Trent knitted his brows, feeling a flicker of exhaustion for the first time. "Where on earth has all your money gone?"

'How am I supposed to raise this kid? If she were still here, at least she'd know how to talk to him. Her dying wish was to bring our younger son home. I found him and brought him back, and he turned out this rebellious.'

Luke pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling. He unlocked it and handed it straight to Trent. "See for yourself."

Trent took the phone.

In early September, a deposit of six hundred dollars had come in. Right after that, five hundred went to the school's payment portal.

Balance: one hundred dollars.

He stared at the screen, baffled. "Where's the money?"

Victor sighed beside him. "Dad, Luke's been using the supplementary card he had me set up for him."

Luke's head snapped up. "I never got any supplementary card."

Victor pulled a stack of printouts from his bag and spread them across the coffee table. "These are the full statements. And there are photos."

He laid the photos out. The first showed a young man picking out sneakers at a mall. The second showed someone in a custom suit walking into a private club. In the third, someone stood outside a bar, talking to another person.

None of them showed a face, but the figure in each looked a lot like Luke.

"I don't know why Luke keeps denying it," Victor said earnestly. "If he wants something, he can just ask. There's no need to spend the money and then turn around and blame the family."

'Let's see you talk your way out of this one.'

Trent's face grew darker and darker. "Luke, do you have anything else to say? Victor is your brother. You can't spend his money and then turn around and accuse him."

'Ever since this kid came back, he's been fighting the family at every turn. How do I straighten him out?'

It wasn't that Mr. Schur didn't love his kids. But he only knew Luke through bank statements and whatever his eldest son told him.

Luke lowered his eyes, his fingers slowly curling into fists.

'Here we go again. He doesn't care about the truth at all. He only believes whatever Victor says. I've explained myself so many times. What's the point?'

He let out a cold snort, turned, and walked away.

Watching the conversation fall apart again, I heaved a long sigh. Looked like I had to step in myself.

"Mr. Luke, wait a second. This is actually easy to verify."

I turned to Victor. "Mr. Victor, you're saying Mr. Luke spent all this money?"

"Of course. I have the records."

"Mr. Schur, I'm afraid you need to look into this card being used for fraudulent charges."

I pulled up the game's official page. "The minimum requirement for this game is a flagship phone from three years ago."

"Mr. Luke, your phone is an old model from five years back. It can't even run the game, let alone rack up three hundred twenty thousand in top-ups."

Then I picked up the sneaker order. "These shoes are a men's size 9. Mr. Luke, what size do you wear?"

"Seven."

"I doubt anyone would order custom sneakers in a size that doesn't fit."

Seeing Trent lapse into thought, I pressed on. "The suit's the same story. The order is for a six-foot-one frame with a forty-one-inch chest. Mr. Luke looks to be about five-nine. The size is obviously wrong.

"The photos are even simpler. The faces are hidden, the profiles are too blurry to make out, and there's nothing distinctive about the figure from behind."

I flipped the photos over. "There isn't even a date on them. How does any of this prove the person in them is Mr. Luke?"

Luke stared at me blankly, as if stunned that anyone would actually believe him.

Trent fixed his eyes on Victor. "Explain this. Where did all your evidence come from?"

"Dad, you'd take a driver's word and suspect me? A driver shows up on his first day and starts driving a wedge between us. Who knows what he's really after?"

Victor clutched the papers in his hand and glared at me viciously. "Luke hasn't even said the person in those photos isn't him. Who are you, a driver, to start bossing people around in the Schur household?"

Luke still didn't say a word.

Looking at his pale face, I felt an odd tightness in my chest.

I thought all my effort had gone to waste. Then he suddenly spoke up.

"On September 16th, I was at school."

His voice was quiet.

"I passed out from low blood sugar during my last class that morning. After that, I stayed in the campus health center. The school nurse can vouch for me. So can my academic advisor."

Trent studied him for a few seconds, then abruptly pulled out his phone.

When the call connected, he asked in a low voice, "I'd like to confirm something. On September 16th, was Luke in the campus health center the entire time?"

The other end of the line went silent for a moment.

Trent's expression changed instantly.