Chapter 178

Chapter 178

Tina went to open the door, but the woman was already gone. She had only left a basket, and in the basket there was a baby and a note. On the note, it said, "This is the Smith family's child."

There was no signature, no background, no extra information at all.

Jacob had a paternity test done. The child was his.

He kept the child and named him Jack Smith. He investigated and searched for a very long time, but the woman who had brought the baby over had vanished from the face of the earth. No matter what he did, he couldn't find her. Later, he simply stopped looking.

But Sawyer knew. Not only did Sawyer know that Jack was his son, but he also knew that Jack was Elizabeth's child. How did he know? He had no roots in Mirandia, no power base of his own; there was only one group of people he could have access to, who could provide him with that kind of information—the Moretti family.

Jacob leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Vincent.

Vincent was already dead, shot by Sawyer.

But the Moretti family was still there, Lilith was still there, and Kane—that illegitimate son who had always been suppressed—was the one in charge now.

If the person who had drugged him back then was Lilith, and if Vincent had been the mastermind behind it all, then everything suddenly made sense.

They had needed him to have a child, a weakness, a handle they could use to control him.

But that woman, why did it have to be Elizabeth?

Jacob opened his eyes, picked up his phone, and dialed a number. "Get the car ready. We're going to the Moretti family."

The Moretti Estate was a lot more desolate than before. The garden was overgrown, the fountain had stopped running, and even the guards at the gate were reduced by more than half. After Vincent died, there had been endless infighting within the family. Several side branches fought bitterly for power, carving up the family assets until they were scattered in pieces. The one who finally came out on top was that illegitimate son who had always been overlooked, Kane.

Kane greeted Jacob in the living room, his attitude so respectful it was almost groveling.

"Mr. Smith, your visit is an honor. I'm sorry I didn't come out sooner to welcome you." His voice trembled, his gaze shifted restlessly, and he didn't dare meet Jacob's eyes.

Jacob sat down and looked at him. "Kane, I'm here to ask you something."

Kane nodded at once. "Please, go ahead. If it's something I know, I'll tell you everything."

"Four years ago, did the Moretti family get involved in something?"

Kane's face went white. His mouth opened and closed, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Jacob didn't rush him. He simply sat there, watching Kane, his expression as calm as if he were looking at a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

After a long time, Kane finally spoke, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible. "Mr. Smith, I really don't know anything about that. Back then, I was still living outside. My father never let me get involved in family affairs. I don't know anything."

Jacob stared at him without saying a word.

Sweat started to bead on Kane's forehead. His fingers twisted together on his knees, his lips quivered, as if he wanted to explain, but had no idea where to begin.

Jacob suddenly stood up. Kane jolted off the couch in fright, stumbling backward again and again.

"Mr. Smith! Mr. Smith, I really don't know! You have to believe me!"

Jacob didn't look at him. He headed for the door, and halfway there, he stopped abruptly. "Where's your father's old butler?"

Kane froze. "The old butler?"

"The man who followed him for decades. Where is he?"

Kane's Adam's apple bobbed. "He… he's in the back. After my father died, he retired. He lives in a small house out back."

Jacob said nothing and turned to walk toward the rear of the estate.

The small house in the back was very old, the paint peeling off the walls, several windowpanes cracked or missing. An old man with a head full of white hair was sitting in a chair at the doorway, basking in the sun, his eyes half-closed.

When he heard footsteps, he opened his eyes. The moment he saw Jacob, his pupils contracted slightly.

"Mr. Smith." His voice was very calm, the kind of calm you hear from someone who has been waiting for a person he always knew would one day appear.

Jacob sat down across from him and looked at him. "You should know why I'm here."

The old man was silent for a long time.

Then he laid out everything that had happened back then. Lilith had wanted to drug Jacob, but by a twist of fate, it was Elizabeth who had walked into that room.

After they cleaned up the mess, they discovered that Elizabeth was pregnant, so they decided to send the baby to the Smith family. On one hand, it would damage Jacob's reputation; on the other, it would give them another weak spot to exploit.

Jacob stood up and headed for the door. After a few steps, he stopped and, without turning around, said, "Tell Kane that starting today, the Moretti family disappears from my territory."

He did not look back. He strode out of the small house.

Back in the car, Jacob leaned against the seat and started searching for everything related to the time when Elizabeth had been pregnant and given birth. He saw all the insults she'd suffered, the gossip, the contemptuous looks.

What he owed her was far more than an apology. He owed her entire youth, her entire life, all of her trust and love.

He had thought he could make it up to her, had thought that as long as he loved her enough, treated her well enough, the wounds of the past would slowly heal. But he had been wrong. Those wounds were ones he himself had inflicted. What right did he have to talk about making amends?

By the time the car pulled into Smith Manor, dawn had already broken. Jacob got out of the car and saw Elizabeth standing at the door, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands, looking at him.

"You're back?" Her voice was very soft, as soft as the morning breeze.

Jacob walked over and pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly, so tightly it was as if he wanted to fuse her into his bones and blood.

"Elizabeth," his voice was hoarse, "I'm sorry."

Elizabeth froze for a second. "What's wrong?"

Jacob didn't answer. He just held her, burying his face in her hair. She had no idea what had happened, but she could feel that he was shaking.

She lifted a hand and gently patted his back. "Okay. You're home, that's what matters."

The morning light spilled over the two of them, warm and bright.

Jacob closed his eyes and said silently in his heart, 'Elizabeth, I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.'

Jacob thought he was still in bed.

With his eyes closed, he could smell the faint scent on Elizabeth's skin, hear the birds singing outside the window.

But in an instant, all those sensations vanished, as if someone had violently yanked away every piece of scenery around him. He opened his eyes and found himself standing in a strange place.

The air was thick with a rotten stench, like something had been decaying there for a very long time.

He frowned and looked around.

It was an abandoned warehouse. The paint was peeling off the walls, the windows were shattered, and a thick layer of dust covered the floor.

In the corners, a few broken wooden crates and rusty metal barrels were piled up, draped in heavy cobwebs.

There were a lot of people around, but for some reason, it was as if the world had been put on mute. No one dared look at him; every single one of them seemed desperate to bury their heads in the ground.

His gaze swept past the clutter, past those faces—some familiar, some not—and finally landed on the center of the warehouse floor.

Someone was lying there.

No, not a whole person—a child's corpse.

The small body was curled up tight, the clothes so stained you could no longer tell their original color, the little face covered by a layer of ashy white frost.

Flies crawled over the body, their droning buzz unbearably harsh in the silence of the warehouse.

Jacob's knees nearly gave out.

He recognized that outfit.

They were Jack's clothes.