Chapter 112: The Longed-for Phone Call

Chapter 112: The Longed-for Phone Call

Although the sender's name was blacked out, traces were still left of where the child was sent.

After all, an orphanage couldn't accept a child of unknown origin.

Place of birth—Emberlyn!

The time, the place, such a coincidence?

Griffin immediately thought of Sally's child.

Everyone said that child died during a difficult birth.

But no one had ever seen that "dead baby."

As long as there was no body, it meant they weren't dead.

That was Griffin's principle.

But why hadn't that dead child actually died?

Could it be that Rhett had a moment of mercy back then? Deliberately spared the child's life?

Was Rhett that kind? Griffin didn't believe it.

Sally's children all deserved to die.

Griffin closed his eyes, trying hard to recall Sally's past.

He couldn't remember.

He only remembered that when Sally was young, Hamad would always hold her in his arms.

Praising her to everyone.

On the carriage at the palace gates, Sally would always be held by Hamad, sitting on his shoulders, waving to all the worshipping commoners.

That was treatment reserved for the heir.

Once or twice was affection, but after many times, Griffin figured out Hamad's true intention.

Later, Sally left the royal family, married that commoner, and went to a place no one knew about.

Hamad was furious, removed her from the royal family tree, and never allowed anyone to mention her name again.

Griffin thought his chance had come.

He was smarter than Rhett, more capable than Rhett, better at pleasing Hamad than Rhett.

He thought as long as he performed well, Hamad would eventually pass the throne to him.

But he was wrong.

Hamad had never truly favored him.

The person Hamad favored had always been only Sally.

After Sally died, Hamad never favored anyone again.

He was just dragging it out, dragging it out, dragging it out until the day he had no choice but to make a decision.

And now, that day was approaching.

Griffin released his grip on the curtain, turned and walked back to his desk, opened the drawer, and took out that adoption record.

He looked at that name again... James, suspected to be Sally's son.

Griffin's fingers gently rubbed across the paper, like stroking the edge of a blade.

"Sally,"

he said quietly,

"You've been dead for so many years, yet your son still stands in our way. Your life force is really strong."

Griffin smiled.

That smile was cold, cold like a frozen river in winter—it looked flat, but step on it and you'd fall into the abyss.

He locked the document back in the drawer, kept the key close to his body, then picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a number.

"Help me check on Apex Global Enterprises' movements. Especially... what their leader has been doing lately."

A hoarse voice came from the other end of the phone,

"Our people have been watching for a while.

Apex Global Enterprises has been making big moves globally recently, wiping out dozens of terrorist organizations trying to replicate C6.

The casualties weren't small, but the results were significant too.

Now on the dark web, opinions about Mr. M are split... some say he's crazy, some say he's a hero."

Griffin's eyebrow raised slightly.

Wiping out terrorist organizations?

This wasn't something a mafia should be doing.

The mafia fought for territory, competed for profits, engaged in violence, but the mafia wouldn't spend massive manpower and resources to eliminate terrorist organizations.

Doing this brought no benefit to business, and would only attract more hatred and retaliation.

Unless... this person wasn't doing it for money.

"Interesting."

Griffin said softly.

He put the phone back on the desk, leaned back in his chair, hands crossed over his abdomen.

He looked at the chandelier on the ceiling. The crystals on the chandelier refracted colorful spots of light under the lamp, swimming around on the white ceiling like a school of fish without direction.

Rhett wanted the C6 formula, thinking it was a shortcut to the throne.

Griffin knew it was a dead end.

Hamad wouldn't pass the throne to Rhett because of an explosive formula. Hamad wouldn't even give that formula a second glance.

What Hamad wanted was stability, security, for the Emberlyn royal family to stand firm in the turbulent Middle Eastern world.

The C6 formula would only make Hamad feel danger...

Someone who could create such a thing was either a friend or an enemy.

If an enemy, they must be eliminated.

And James... this son of Sally's...

He was neither friend nor enemy.

He was blood. A blood relative abandoned by the royal family.

Griffin closed his eyes, the curve of his mouth slowly deepening.

"Oh Rhett,"

he said to himself,

"Chase all you want. The tighter you chase, the harder you'll fall."

At the same time, in Novaria.

Apex Global Enterprises.

James sat in his office, in front of him the action summary report Matthew had just delivered.

The sixty-day cleanup operation was nearing its end. Forty-seven targets, forty-four eliminated. The remaining three had either disbanded or fled to areas outside their sphere of influence, temporarily posing no threat.

The casualty figures for Apex Global Enterprises were also in...

Seventeen seriously injured, forty-one lightly injured, two dead.

Of the dead, one was a demolitions expert from the Middle East action team, killed by an enemy booby trap during a mission.

The other was an assault operative from the South American action team, hit in the neck by a stray bullet during a raid on a drug den, killed instantly.

James looked at those two names and was silent for a long time.

He picked up his pen and signed his name at the end of the report.

Then doubled the compensation.

The pen tip scratched across the paper, making a rustling sound that was especially clear in the quiet office.

Then he put down the pen, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

His phone vibrated.

James opened his eyes and picked up his phone. It was a message from Cleo.

"James, when are you coming back? Bianca said she dreamed about you and woke up crying."

James looked at the message, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

When she said "Bianca dreamed about you and woke up crying," James knew this wasn't Bianca's doing.

If Bianca really dreamed about him and woke up crying, she wouldn't tell Cleo.

Bianca was the type to put emotions in a sealed jar, put on the lid, and wrap it with tape three times. She wouldn't let anyone see what was inside the jar.

Crying and such drama was only Cleo's style.

She would pour out her emotions, spread them on the table, point at them and say... "Look, I'm sad, you need to comfort me."

James replied,

"I'll pick you up from school tonight."

Cleo's reply shot back like a bullet, so fast it didn't seem like she was messaging but smashing the screen.

"James, I'm really not rushing you. It's just... I miss you. You said yourself once a week, and also, it's not just Bianca, there's me too... I miss you too, oh right, Iris misses you too."