Once inside and out of Xander’s sight, Bruce turned to Mr. Wace. "Now just what did you do for Xander to start questioning Arabe’s death?"


    "I didn’t do anything," Mr. Wace replied, pulling at his tie. Standing in front of Xander earlier had felt suffocating. The tension had weighed so heavily on him that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. Now, as he finally inhaled deeply, he felt a fleeting moment of relief. "I should be asking you that question. You spend more time with him than I do, so what in the world did you say?"


    "I didn’t say anything," Bruce insisted. "But this isn’t good. I’ll ask Samanthater if he met with someone who nted that doubt in his mind."


    "If Xander finds out the truth, things are not going to end well for either of us," Mr. Wace muttered. For over twenty years, he hadn’t had to worry about this. His teeth clenched in rage, and he silently cursed whoever had nted that seed of doubt in Xander’s mind.


    "Who’s ’we’?" Bruce scoffed. "You were the one who handled everything, even when I told you it wasn’t necessary."


    "Oh, really?" Mr. Wace shot back. "Like you didn’t help me lie to him? Like you didn’t bribe the doctors and police officers at the hospital?"


    Bruce said nothing. His jaw tightened, his face lowering slightly as worry filled his chest. "I don’t think we’ll be able to keep up this charade much longer. Xander is smart. He’s going to find out, one way or another."


    "That’s impossible," Mr. Wace dismissed coldly. "Have him watched and followed. That way, we can monitor his movements."


    "And if he meets with someone privately?" Bruce asked, his voice wary.


    Mr. Wace’s answer came without hesitation. "Make sure that person is killed." He met Bruce’s gaze. "No matter what, we have to keep this secret. The truth can nevere out."


    Meanwhile, back at Xavier’s hideout, he sat inplete silence, his emotions simmering just beneath the surface. His gaze was fixed on Maxwell, who had just sent a message and was now stepping out of the restroom.


    Xavier had always known betrayal was a possibility. But no amount of preparation could have braced him for this one.


    His best friend—his childhoodpanion—was working with Xander.


    The same Xander who had kidnapped his wife.


    A storm of rage surged through Xavier’s veins. He clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching with the urge to hurl his phone against the wall. The only thing stopping him was the need for control.


    The only thing he wanted to do was beat Maxwell to a pulp—make him suffer until he was drowning in his own blood.


    But at the same time... he needed answers.


    At Xavier’s mansion, Anastasia’s eyes fluttered open. She pulled the duvet close, inhaling deeply. The scent of her husband lingered on the fabric, calming her. She exhaled slowly, repeating the action a few more times before finally pushing the covers away.


    Ever since Xavier had found out about her true identity, their days had been filled with rekindled memories. He had made her watch the movies she had starred in, taken her to visit different ces around Radiantia, and even scheduled appointments with Mark and his medical team to help her recover her lost memories.


    And it had worked.


    Anastasia could now recall the first time she had met Xavier. The moment she had woken up in the hospital after the Harrison family had tried to dispose of her. The betrayal, the pain, the resilience that had led her to where she was now.


    She had remembered everything.


    Despite theirplicated past, Xavier had made time for her—taking her out on dates, bringing her to his hideout, and staying by her side as she slowly pieced herself back together.


    But today, Anastasia had a different focus.


    She had a target to monitor.


    She showered, got dressed, and settled in front of herputer, ready to track her next prey. But before she could begin, the door burst open.


    "Anastasia!"


    Tracie and Kael barged in, voices loud and urgent.


    Anastasia sighed, closing herptop. There was no way she could concentrate with these two around.


    Since she was always alone when Xavier was at work, Tracie and Kael had made it a habit to visit her regrly.


    But before they could drag her off to whatever they had nned, Xavier walked into the room, his steps heavy.


    His presence shifted the atmosphere instantly.


    "I know who the informant is," he announced, his voice firm.


    He walked straight to Anastasia, cupped her face, and pressed a tender kiss on her lips.


    "Really? Who?" Tracie asked, urgency clear in her tone.


    Xavier’s gaze darkened.


    "It’s Maxwell." He responded.