Chapter 494
Chapter 493:
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he had used once before, in the early days of his company, when competitors needed to be discouraged and information was the sharpest weapon available.
“I need you,” he said when the call connected. “Full surveillance. Financial records, communications, travel histories. Everything for the last fifteen years p>
“Target p>
“Gaston Collins. And Jocelyn Wolfe. I want to know every time their paths crossed. Every interaction. Every connection.” Kieran’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And I want to know about an incident. An attic. A locked door. Seven years ago, give or take. Find me the truth p>
He hung up. He started the engine. He didn’t know where he was driving — only that he couldn’t be still, couldn’t be quiet, couldn’t stop moving until he had answers.
The photograph lay on the passenger seat, face down. He didn’t need to look at it again. The image was already burned into his memory — Gaston’s expression, Jocelyn’s back, the invisible line of obsession connecting them across time.
Kieran had believed he was playing a game. He had believed he was the hunter, Gaston the unexpected rival, Jocelyn the prize to be won or reclaimed at his choosing.
He understood now that he had never been a player at all. He had been a pawn. A tool. A convenient obstacle that Gaston Collins had used to sharpen his instincts before taking what he had always intended to claim.
The rage that settled over Kieran was cold and precise and absolutely clarifying.
He had lost everything. His company. His reputation. His standing. The woman he had convinced himself he loved.
𝘔о𝘳𝘦 𝗇𝗈𝗏e𝗹𝘀 𝗈𝗇.сo𝗺
But he still had one thing. He had the truth — or the beginning of it. And he had nothing left to lose.
Gaston Collins had made a single, fatal mistake. He had let Kieran live. He had allowed him to survive with enough resources, enough intelligence, and enough concentrated hatred to become genuinely dangerous.
Kieran would find the rest of it. He would uncover whatever Gaston had buried, whoever he had hurt, whatever he had done in the name of his obsession.
And then he would use every last piece of it to burn the world down.
The air in the living room was cool and carried the faint scent of ozone from the medical-grade air purifier humming in the corner. In place of the usual art books, the coffee table was covered in biometric data charts and a sleek silver tablet displaying complex genetic sequencing reports.
Jocelyn stood in the doorway, arms crossed, trying to decide whether she was amused or alarmed.
Gaston was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by what appeared to be the command center for a NASA mission, studying the tablet with the intensity he normally reserved for hostile takeover strategies.
“Please tell me,” she said, “that you haven’t decided to clone me p>
Gaston looked up. His expression was completely serious. “I’ve had the Collins Group’s biotech division run a full genomic workup. They’ve created a comprehensive wellness protocol designed to optimize our chances of conception and ensure the healthiest possible environment for you and the child p>
Jocelyn blinked. “You’re joking p>