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Sir Robert Collins stared at the photograph in his hand for a long, silent mont. His sharp eyes, though aged, didn’t miss a single detail of the child’s face—every shadow, every feature. Then, without a word, he handed the photo over to the private investigator standing before him.

"Find this child," he said in a low voice, "I want to know everything—where he was born, who his parents are, what school he goes to, who’s raising him. Every last detail. Do you understand ?"

The investigator gave a brief nod, took a look at the picture expressionlessly, before quietly exiting the study. As the heavy door clicked shut behind him, Spencer turned from the window where he’d been watching the grey clouds roll in.

"The resemblance is indeed uncanny," Spencer muttered, almost to himself. "He really does look like Adam did at eight even though he is younger.. It’s... unsettling. But still—Adam is not stupid. The first thing he’ll do is a DNA test. This entire plan of Saira’s... it’s flimsy. It relies on too many assumptions. Too many variables. How did you agree to support it, grandfather?

Sir Robert gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. "Naturally. Adam will take every precaution. But for now, Saira has no intention of letting the boy and Adam et in person. Perhaps a few carefully monitored video calls—nothing more. That buys us so ti. What we need to focus on now is lanie and what we need to do."

Spencer straightened at the na, "lanie? Even after everything, you still want to pursue that angle?"

"Our last attempt may have failed," Sir Robert said, folding his hands on the desk before him, "but the path forward hasn’t changed. The man we placed near lanie—he’s confird that she and Adam have grown close again. You know what needs to be done. You know how to use her. Don’t waste the opportunity."

Spencer nodded slowly, then hesitated. "I’ll do it. But Grandfather... I have to ask. The orders you gave about Saira... I don’t understand them. Why now? She’s always been loyal to you so why do this?"

Sir Robert leaned back in his chair and the old leather creaked beneath his weight. His eyes were cold and calculating as they locked onto Spencer’s.

"No," he said, his voice like the edge of a blade. "She was loyal. And she was useful. But sothings have changed. One, she is not as important to Adam as we thought. And second, this child... this boy she’s brought forward—it’s not a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidences. You shouldn’t either."

Spencer frowned, confusion still evident in his face, "But didn’t you say she found a child who looks like Adam to fool him? That it was all a part of her plan? So, why do you think it is not a coincidence?"

Sir Robert’s smile was thin and dangerous. "Yes, that’s what she wants us to believe. But think, Spencer. Use your head. When I sent her away all those years ago—to protect her from your grandmother’s wrath—she was already pregnant. Barely, but pregnant nonetheless. Then, months later, she claid the child was stillborn. I had my doubts then, of course, but I did my due diligence. I spoke to the doctors, questioned the nurses. Everyone backed her story and I had no reason to dig deeper."

He paused,"But now," and then continued softly, "a child appears. A child with Adam’s face whom she is planning to masqurade as her child. A child she suddenly brings forward at just the right ti. That is no coincidence."

Spencer’s eyes widened in realization, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think... you think she lied? That she hid Adam’s child all these years?"

Sir Robert’s gaze hardened. "I think she kept the child as a safety net. Insurance. Sothing she could pull out if the walls ever started to close in on her. And if she lied about that..." He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air like. If she could lie once, then she could have lied more tis.

He didn’t say what was truly on his mind, not yet. That particular suspicion was sothing he wasn’t ready to share—not even with his grandson.

Because he knew Saira. He’d watched her grow from an eager, bright-eyed girl desperate to win his approval into a woman who could smile to your face while twisting the knife behind your back. If she had hidden the child from him, then she was capable of hiding far more. And he had the distinct feeling that the child was not Adam and hers but his... which ant that she had double crossed him as many as a few years ago.

So, it was ti to remove her from the board. That much was certain. But even now, he understood the value of patience. Her elimination could not be rushed—not yet.

It had to be precise. Calculated. The truth had to co out first, and the child had to be secured. Only once the boy was safely in his possession, and only once he knew exactly who the child belonged to, could the final move be made.

If he was really Adam’s child then, he would beco the ultimate weapon and Saira might end up buying herself so ti to live, just to help nurture the child and help him control Adam agian.

But if the truth was darker... if the child was his—and not Adam’s—and Saira had hidden that fact deliberately, had kept the boy from him all these years to use as leverage, to blackmail him at the right mont... then her fate was sealed. No amount of pleading or past loyalty would save her from the ending he had envisioned for her. If she could not be loyal in life, then she would be loyal in death.

Soon, he picked up his phone and made a callm, "Keep an eye on Saira. See, whom she is eting, when, and I want a record of all her calls. Am I clear? Do not slack."

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