Chapter 429
Xander pulled his phone out, his expression unreadable. But the moment his eyes landed on the familiar name—Fiona—something in his chest tightened.
He continued to read the text from his informant, Maxwell. He ignored the part about Mr. Wallace being the murderer of Arabella. His focus remained solely on the eyewitness, Fiona. The informant had even included the city she was living in—Glamourwood.
Now, Xander had a choice to make.
He had just decided to let things go, to continue blaming Xavier for Arabella’s death. And now, out of nowhere, the name of the only eyewitness had been placed right in front of him. All he had to do was go to Glamourwood, find Fiona, and get her to tell him everything she had seen that night.
It was a simple thing to do.
So why was his mind racing with thoughts that made the decision feel impossible?
Samantha, who had been watching him stare at his phone for far too long, tapped his shoulder, nearly making him jump.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, her gaze flicking to his phone.
Xander immediately shut it, his grip tightening around the device. “Nothing is the matter,” he replied, forcing his voice to remain casual.
Mr. Wallace and Bruce, who had gone quiet after what had happened earlier, exchanged glances. Then, Bruce spoke up.
“If that’s all, we would like to return to our party now p>
Without waiting for a response, they turned their backs and headed toward the building they had come from.
Once inside and out of Xander’s sight, Bruce turned to Mr. Wallace. “Now just what did you do for Xander to start questioning Arabella’s death p>
“I didn’t do anything,” Mr. Wallace replied, pulling at his tie. Standing in front of Xander earlier had felt suffocating. The tension had weighed so heavily on him that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. Now, as he finally inhaled deeply, he felt a fleeting moment of relief. “I should be asking you that question. You spend more time with him than I do, so what in the world did you say p>
“I didn’t say anything,” Bruce insisted. “But this isn’t good. I’ll ask Samantha later if he met with someone who planted that doubt in his mind p>
“If Xander finds out the truth, things are not going to end well for either of us,” Mr. Wallace muttered. For over twenty years, he hadn’t had to worry about this. His teeth clenched in rage, and he silently cursed whoever had planted that seed of doubt in Xander’s mind.
“Who’s ’we’?” Bruce scoffed. “You were the one who handled everything, even when I told you it wasn’t necessary p>
“Oh, really?” Mr. Wallace shot back. “Like you didn’t help me lie to him? Like you didn’t bribe the doctors and police officers at the hospital p>
Bruce said nothing. His jaw tightened, his face lowering slightly as worry filled his chest. “I don’t think we’ll be able to keep up this charade much longer. Xander is smart. He’s going to find out, one way or another p>
“That’s impossible,” Mr. Wallace dismissed coldly. “Have him watched and followed. That way, we can monitor his movements p>
“And if he meets with someone privately?” Bruce asked, his voice wary.
Mr. Wallace’s answer came without hesitation. “Make sure that person is killed.” He met Bruce’s gaze. “No matter what, we have to keep this secret. The truth can never come out p>
Meanwhile, back at Xavier’s hideout, he sat in complete silence, his emotions simmering just beneath the surface. His gaze was fixed on Maxwell, who had just sent a message and was now stepping out of the restroom.
Xavier had always known betrayal was a possibility. But no amount of preparation could have braced him for this one.
His best friend—his childhood companion—was working with Xander.
The same Xander who had kidnapped his wife.
A storm of rage surged through Xavier’s veins. He clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching with the urge to hurl his phone against the wall. The only thing stopping him was the need for control.
The only thing he wanted to do was beat Maxwell to a pulp—make him suffer until he was drowning in his own blood.
But at the same time… he needed answers.
At Xavier’s mansion, Anastasia’s eyes fluttered open. She pulled the duvet close, inhaling deeply. The scent of her husband lingered on the fabric, calming her. She exhaled slowly, repeating the action a few more times before finally pushing the covers away.
Ever since Xavier had found out about her true identity, their days had been filled with rekindled memories. He had made her watch the movies she had starred in, taken her to visit different places around Radiantia, and even scheduled appointments with Mark and his medical team to help her recover her lost memories.
And it had worked.
Anastasia could now recall the first time she had met Xavier. The moment she had woken up in the hospital after the Harrison family had tried to dispose of her. The betrayal, the pain, the resilience that had led her to where she was now.
She had remembered everything.
Despite their complicated past, Xavier had made time for her—taking her out on dates, bringing her to his hideout, and staying by her side as she slowly pieced herself back together.
But today, Anastasia had a different focus.
She had a target to monitor.
She showered, got dressed, and settled in front of her computer, ready to track her next prey. But before she could begin, the door burst open.
“Anastasia p>
Tracie and Kael barged in, voices loud and urgent.
Anastasia sighed, closing her laptop. There was no way she could concentrate with these two around.
Since she was always alone when Xavier was at work, Tracie and Kael had made it a habit to visit her regularly.
But before they could drag her off to whatever they had planned, Xavier walked into the room, his steps heavy.
His presence shifted the atmosphere instantly.
“I know who the informant is,” he announced, his voice firm.
He walked straight to Anastasia, cupped her face, and pressed a tender kiss on her lips.
“Really? Who?” Tracie asked, urgency clear in her tone.
Xavier’s gaze darkened.
“It’s Maxwell.” He responded.