Chapter 75 Conspiracy @K 62%
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"What took you so long?" Henry's voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. He glared at his son, Oliver Montecarlo, his eyes burning with impatience.
Henry was already upset after Alexander insulted them, treating them like they were pieces of dirt rather than his relatives. He hated Alexander from the bottom of his heart and never wanted him to be the Duke. But to Henry's disappointment, Alexander was the sole heir of the Duke of Monaco, taking after his father.
Oliver hesitated, glancing around nervously before leaning in closer.
"I heard Alexander talking about a DNA test," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"DNA test?!" Henry's expression twisted into a deep frown. Without another word, he seized Oliver's arm and dragged him out of the palace complex. They hurried through the corridors and out into the garden, far from the prying eyes of guards and staff. The lush greenery offered a semblance of privacy.
Henry's gup on Oliver's arm tightened. "What did you hear exactly?" he demanded, his tone low and menacing.
Oliver swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "Alexander was talking to his mother about finding a girl he thinks might be Adeline. He said he had given samples for a DNA test to confirm.
For a moment, Henry stood frozen, his face a mask of shock and rage. Then, he let out a slow, calculated breath, a sinister smirk curling his lips.
"It's impossible for the girl to be Adeline, Henry mumbled with confidence, as if he knew why it was impossible for Adeline to still be alive. "However, we can't take any chances. Our luck has already been unfavorable lately. His voice dropped to a murmur, barely louder than a breath, but Oliver caught every word. We need to switch the samples before they're tested, Henry added as his face gleamed with sharp determination.
His eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as he turned to his son. "Find out where he has sent the samples to be tested," he ordered, his voice brooking no argument.All rights © Nôdaisynovel.com.
Oliver nodded, determination and fear warring in his eyes. "Yes, Father,"
"By the way, we got the money this time, but it will only last a few days," Oliver said, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and anxiety. "But what will we do after that? You know the people we owe money to are posing threats continuously."
Henry's smirk spread slowly across his face, a wicked and sinful glint sparking in his eyes. "Don't worry, we will pay off all our debt just like we are paying now. We just need to speed up our game plan," he id, his tone dripping with sinister confidence. Oliver could almost see the dark wheels turning in his famer's mind.
"But... Henry continued, holding up a finger in caution, his eyes narrowing as if he were about to reveal a crucial piece of their treacherous puzzle. For everything to carry on as we want, you need to make sure the DNA test results come out as we want." His voice dropped to a menacingly serious tone.
"Don't worry, Father. I will take care of it. Oliver assured, straightening his suit jacket with a smug. calculated motion.
Henry glanced at his son with thinly veiled disdain. He couldn't help but feel a gnawing envy towards his nenleu Alexander who was currereful in event conceivable was Alexander un emarter and mon
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Chapter 75 Conspiracy
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hardworking, a paragon of diligence and dedication. Henry had watched him work tirelessly for the betterment of the people and the principality of Monaco while simultaneously managing the family's vast business empire. Under Alexander's stewardship, their businesses and properties had tripled in value.
In stark contrast, Henry's own son, Oliver, was a shadow, unable to survive without his father's financial support. Henry's money kept Oliver and his family afloat, but the young man lacked the ambition and drive to forge his own path. This made Henry's resentment towards Alexander even more bitter. He despised Alexander not just for his success but for highlighting Oliver's shortcomings. Henry's jealousy had grown into a festering hatred, a burning desire to see Alexander's life ruined.
Henry's mind seethed with memories of his covert attempts to undermine Alexander. He had already tried to sabotage his nephew's efforts and was constantly seeking new ways to make his life difficult, all while keeping his brother's widow-Alexander's mother-ignorant of his true intentions. The thought of Alexander's downfall brought a twisted sense of satisfaction to Henry, even as he plotted in the shadows, driven by envy and malice.
"Don't be overconfident, because Alexander can smell a conspiracy. He's that clever, Henry warned his son as his furious and intense gaze locked with Oliver's. "Always be extra careful, and make no mistakes, because mere one mistake will cost you your life." "I got it. Father. Trust me when I say I will handle it. I'm good at those cunning tactics, Oliver replied with a wicked smile. I am your son, after all."
Henry glanced at his son's confident face, and his chest swelled with a twisted sense of pride. At least Oliver had learned something from him. Yet, Henry's desire burned hotter-he wanted to see his son rise to the heights Alexander had reached. One day, he vowed, he would make it happen. His mind was always plotting, always scheming, and he felt he was very close to victory.
After exchanging a knowing look, the father and son duo headed to their cars, their steps echoing with the promise of dark deeds to come.
In Paris, Alessandro had just returned from work and finished a conference call with the business head of his overseas operations. After ordering a coffee from his mansion's kitchen, he headed to his room. He emptied his pockets and placed everything on the coffee table in the center of the room. Unbuttoning his cuffs, he removed his custom-made, expensive cufflinks and set them on the table as well. He was about to take off his shirt when his phone rang. Picking it up from the table, he frowned as Maria's name flashed on the screen.
Feeling reluctant, he answered, "Mother, what is it?"
"Alessandro, where are you? Why aren't you answering Vanessa's calls?" Maria immediately be
him with accusatory question
Darded
Alessandro groaned mentally, recalling how Vanessa kept pestering him despite his clear demand to end. their engagement. She continued calling and texting, but Alessandro intentionally ghosted her.
"Mother, tell her to stop calling me. I'm tired of her bothering me again and again," he gritted out, irritation evident in his voice.
"Alessandro, she's your fiancée," Maria insisted. "You can't do this to her."
"No, Mother, she is not my fiancée," he snapped. "The engagement is off, and I have nothing to do with her anymore."
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There was silence on the line. Maria stayed quiet, knowing nothing could change Alessandro's mind when he was upset-especially since he rarely spoke to her like that unless he was truly angry.
"Okay, we'll discuss this later," Maria conceded, changing the topic. I actually called to ask you to attend the party in Paris," she pleaded.
"Mother, I don't have time for parties or this nonsense, Alessandro dismissed in a cold tone.
"Alessandro, it's something important. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered you, knowing how precious your time is, Maria pressed Alessandro sighed, "Alright, Mother. Text me the address, and I'll go. When is it?"
"Tonight!" Maria replied.
"Tonight?" Alessandro frowned.
"Yes, dear. And please don't forget to give my regards to the hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Corbin," she added quickly before Alessandro could refuse. "Hmm," Alessandro replied curtly, rubbing his forehead. Tm running late for a meeting. I'll call you later," he said, disconnecting the call.
"Alright, take care, son," Maria cooed sweetly before ending the call.
She smiled to herself, satisfied. She had intentionally sent Alessandro to the party because Vanessa would be there too. Vanessa had complained to Maria about him avoiding her, and together, they had planned this. Maria had played her role, and now it was Vanessa's turn. She knew Vanessa's charm and beauty were irresistible. Alessandro would have to give in. Her smile grew more wicked at the thought.
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