The Heiress Spoiled by Four Brothers and One Devilish CEO-Chapter 185 Mrs. Lewis Was Punished

Tristan crushed the cigarette underfoot, hooked Karl by the neck, and yanked him down for cover.

With a thunderous "Boom", the car jolted violently.

Even though it was bulletproof, this kind of onslaught was pushing its limits.

Karl’s eyes were blazing red as he growled, "You need to go. Keeping yourself alive means keeping Megan safe too!"

Tristan cracked a smirk. "No way. We’re getting out of here together."

He kicked the door open, and the two darted out, diving behind cover in a flash.

Tristan tossed him two automatics. "Sniper. Two o’clock ahead of you. You know how to shoot, right?"

Karl let out a cold laugh. "What guy doesn’t?"

Tristan burst out laughing, "Still, I’m more accurate."

Karl shot him a glare. "You’re such a jerk."

He tossed his lighter. It hit the ground with a snap—at the same time, he fired a precise shot toward two o’clock.

A glint from a mirror hidden in the bushes betrayed the sniper’s spot.

Tristan’s eyes narrowed, and he fired a few rounds toward ten o’clock—exactly where the earlier RPG came from.

A scream rang out right as another rocket flew through the air.

In that split-second before the explosion rocked the cover, Tristan and Karl both launched themselves away from the blast zone.

—

At the Lewis family estate.

Megan gently sewed the last stitches on a plush doll, clearly cherishing it.

"Ah!" A sudden prick—her fingertip leaked bright red blood.

Something felt off in her gut. A bad feeling.

She picked up her phone. Dialed.

"We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is unavailable."

She tried Karl’s number. Same thing.

A moment later, an unknown number lit up the screen. It was Cameron.

"Cameron, what’s going on? Why can’t I get in touch with Tristan or Karl?"

His voice was choked. "They’re out on a mission. We lost contact with both Mr. Reid and Mr. Freeman. But the military advisor, he... he said..."

"Speak."

"It doesn’t look good..."

Megan’s heart clenched hard, eyes already welling up. She steadied her breath. "How long has it been?"

"Half an hour."

She exhaled sharply, like a weight lifted. "Tristan’s okay. They’re probably just separated. If Karl’s with him, chances are they’re both fine."

Cameron sounded confused. "You’re that sure?"

She didn’t hide it. "Tristan and I have a bond planted inside us. If either of us dies, the other won’t last ten minutes. So yeah—he’s alive. Pull yourself together and find them now."

That lit a spark in Cameron. "Yes, ma’am!"

Megan chuckled softly. "Thanks, Cameron."

"Don’t mention it!"

She looked up to see Stella walking in with a bowl.

Stella asked anxiously,"Something wrong, Megan?"

Megan stood quickly. "Mom, you didn’t have to come up. You could’ve just called."

Stella smiled gently. "My sweet girl never wants to trouble others. But I’m not others—I’m your mom. I want to do things for you." Her eyes turned soft with guilt. "Twenty years. I owe you so much."Megan took the bowl and set it on the table, then gently held Stella’s hand. "Mom, please don’t blame yourself. What’s done is done. Let’s just move on, okay? Now that I’m back, you and Dad and my brothers can just spoil me all you want. Though... I have a feeling once this little one shows up," she gave her belly a light pat, "I might be out of the spotlight."

"No way! We’ll all dote on both of you."

With a warm smile, Stella brought the bowl up, blew on the spoonful, and held it to Megan’s lips. "Come on, let mama feed you."

As she fed her, Stella’s eyes turned soft with emotion. "I never knew why I couldn’t warm up to Amelia at first. Maybe it was the postpartum depression. But as she got older, I realized she was always scheming, always trying to win favor. Your dad would just lash out at your brothers every time something happened without even checking facts. Over time, my dislike for her just grew stronger. Then, during a medical checkup a few years ago, we found out she wasn’t even a blood member of the Lewis family. I passed out on the spot. Since then, my health just went downhill. The doctors said it was a heart problem, the kind that only love can heal. That’s why we never gave up on finding our real daughter."

She looked at the nearly empty bowl and set it aside before gently squeezing Megan’s hand. "And now we’ve finally found our true little princess."

Megan leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder and whispered, "Mom, let’s never be apart again."

As the sun dipped low in the sky, the family gathered at the dinner table, ready to eat.

Mrs. Lewis didn’t show up for dinner again today. She stayed holed up in her room, looking pretty miserable.

All twelve dishes were served, but nobody touched their chopsticks.

Mr. Lewis glanced over at Mrs. Ford. "Go get her."

Mrs. Ford nodded and knocked on the bedroom door. "Ma’am, Mr. Lewis is calling for you."

Mrs. Lewis frowned. "What is it now?"

Mrs. Ford shook her head lightly. "I’m not sure."

Mrs. Lewis lowered her eyes, clearly burdened with heavy thoughts.

As she entered the dining room, she noticed everyone staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat.

Mr. Lewis slammed his palm on the table with a loud thud. "Bring the family punishment stick!"

Mrs. Lewis turned pale. "W-What’s going on? Who’s the punishment for?"

Mr. Lewis shot her a chilling glare. "You tell me! Whoever’s been up to no good—that’s who!"

The butler handed him a thick wooden stick.

Megan’s eyes went to the stick, if he really swung that thing, Mrs. Lewis’s fate wasn’t going to be pretty.

But hey, with all that extra padding, maybe she’d hold up—kinda.

Mr. Lewis gripped the stick tight, walked over, and struck down hard on her backside.

A loud thud echoed in the room.

Megan subtly rubbed her hands together in excitement like a kid waiting for popcorn. Honestly? She low-key wanted a turn. The woman seriously had it coming.

Mrs. Lewis, now seventy-three, dropped to the floor immediately from the blow.

She looked up, shocked, "Y-You hit me?!"

Mr. Lewis snorted. "Yeah, I did! You know exactly what you did!"

"I didn’t! What are you even talking about?! I didn’t do anything!"

Without another word, he landed another heavy blow, this time on her arm.

"This is what you get for playing dirty," he growled under his breath.

"Nova! Play the footage!"

Nova Tech jumped onto the table, lifting its tiny rear as it projected the security video.

In the clip, Mrs. Lewis was sneakily tiptoeing into the kitchen with a small white packet in one hand. She then poured powder from the packet into every dish before slipping out like nothing happened.

Mr. Lewis pointed the stick right at her face. "Now, what do you have to say for yourself?!"