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Chapter 430
Chapter 430:
He was not going to apologize. He was going to demand answers. He was going to ask her why she had weaponized his greatest sin against him.
He turned and marched out of the suffocating living room, carrying the full weight of his own destruction.
He threw open the heavy front doors and walked out into the freezing night.
The black Bentley tore through the Manhattan night.
𝖩оi𝘯 𝘵𝗵𝗲 cо𝗆𝗆𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘁y 𝖺𝘁 ѕ.𝖼o𝗆
Cole gripped the leather steering wheel with his left hand. His right was locked in a death grip around the crumpled medical report, his knuckles bone-white, the veins in his forearm standing out against his skin.
The interior of the car was freezing.
His chief assistant sat in the passenger seat, pressing himself as close to the door as physically possible, too terrified to breathe loudly. The lethal, unstable energy radiating off his boss was palpable.
The sharp ring of Cole’s cell phone shattered the silence.
It was the emergency line for the Compton Group’s PR Director.
Cole tapped his Bluetooth earpiece. His voice was a block of solid ice. “Speak p>
“Boss,” the PR Director stammered, sounding as though he was struggling to breathe. “The news about Miss Beasley’s pregnancy — we can’t contain it. Page Six broke it, and every major outlet is aggregating the story. It is the number one trending topic on Twitter p>
Cole’s jaw locked. The muscles in his neck strained against his collar.
His mind was already moving. Two completely separate events — June’s infertility report and Alycia’s pregnancy leak — slammed together in his brain, connected by an invisible, undeniable wire.
He turned his head slightly and looked at his assistant.
“How did my grandmother get that medical report?” Cole asked, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm whisper.
The assistant blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “I will find out immediately, sir p>
Cole slammed the brake. He jerked the wheel hard to the right.
The heavy car shrieked against the asphalt as it slammed to a halt against the curb.
He was no longer going to June’s apartment. A new, far darker suspicion had just wrapped its cold fingers around his spine.
He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths.
Half an hour of agonizing silence passed.
The assistant’s laptop finally pinged with an incoming encrypted file from the Manor’s head of security. He opened it and scanned the data rapidly. All the color drained from his face.
He swallowed hard and looked at Cole.
“Sir,” the assistant said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have the preliminary report. The security team pulled Mt. Sinai’s exterior surveillance footage from this afternoon. Miss Beasley is seen personally handing a sealed envelope to one of the matriarch’s security detail, who then passed it directly into the car. Manor staff have confirmed that Mrs. Compton reviewed the contents immediately upon her return p>
Cole’s eyes snapped open. The red veins in his eyes seemed to pulse. A dark, apocalyptic fury ignited in his gaze.
It wasn’t June.
It was Alycia.