Chapter 292:

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“Simon,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I have a new task for you. I want a complete, deep-dive background check on a woman named Jewel Gilmore. I want to know everything. Her finances, her family, her history. And Simon…”

He paused, the image of those stormy gray eyes burning in his mind.

“I want to know everything about the child.”

The heavy mahogany door of the CEO’s office clicked shut, sealing the room in a thick, suffocating silence.

August sat behind his massive desk, the Manhattan skyline a cold, gray blur behind him. He wasn’t looking at the city. His eyes were glued to the manila folder open in front of him. Inside were the preliminary results of Simon’s deep dive.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝗆

He picked up the top photograph. It was a candid shot, taken with a long lens. Kayden Gilmore was laughing in a playground, her head thrown back, dark hair flying in the wind. August’s thumb hovered over the image, tracing the line of her jaw, the slope of her nose. It was like looking into a mirror. A mirror that reflected his own childhood photos, the ones his mother kept in the east wing of the estate. The resemblance was not just striking. It was violent.

He dropped the photo onto the desk, the sound sharp in the quiet room.

Simon stood rigidly by the door, his tablet clutched to his chest. “The official records indicate that Jewel Gilmore adopted the child five years ago from a private clinic in upstate New York. The birth parents’ information is heavily encrypted.”

“Encrypted,” August repeated, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. His fingertip began a slow, rhythmic tap against the polished wood of the desk. Tap. Tap. Tap. “A single woman, with no prior adoption history, suddenly gets a baby from a clinic that encrypts its files. Does that sound normal to you, Simon?”

“It sounds… unusual, sir,” Simon admitted carefully.

“It sounds like a lie,” August corrected, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. He thought of Elisa in that school hallway. The way she had stepped in front of the child, her body a shield. The raw, primal terror in her eyes when he had touched the girl’s shoulder. That wasn’t the protective instinct of a family friend. That was a mother bear defending her cub.

“Cut through the red tape,” August commanded, his gaze snapping up to pin Simon in place. “I don’t care about privacy laws or HIPAA regulations. Use the back channels. I want those encryption keys broken. You have forty-eight hours.”

“Yes, sir.” Simon turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

August picked up the photo again. The child’s gray eyes stared back at him, full of innocent joy. A cold, coiling sensation settled in his gut. It was a mix of fury, at being lied to, at being kept in the dark, and something else. Something dark and possessive that clawed at his chest. His child. Possibly his blood, running around New York, calling another woman mother, while he was kept in the dark like a fool.

He slid the photo into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, close to his heart.

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