Chapter 311

A faint smile played on his lips. "Don't you trust me, Uncle Xavier?"

Mr. Xavier's fingers traced the armrest of his wheelchair. "I need to see it with my own eyes. If it wasn't you, there won't be any marks."

Adrian's knuckles turned white against the wheelchair handles.

"Just one look," Mr. Xavier narrowed his eyes. "Then we'll enjoy our fish dinner."

"You really insist on seeing?"

"Call it curiosity."

Slowly, Adrian released his grip. His right hand hung limp, unblemished in the dim light.

Mr. Xavier's hawk-like gaze locked onto his palm.

BOOM—

An explosion rocked the kitchen.

The entire villa trembled. Crystal chandeliers swayed violently.

Grant stumbled out on crutches. "Uncle Xavier, evacuate now!"

Chefs fled in panic. "Gas leak!"

"What happened?" Mr. Xavier barked.

Grant shoved Adrian aside, wheeling the chair toward the exit. "Flash explosion!"

"What about Adrian?"

"He can damn well run on his own!"

"His left arm—"

Gritting his teeth, Grant turned back—only to find Adrian leaning against the foyer wall.

"Waiting for me?"

"Quite the coincidence," Adrian tapped the wall lightly. "Exploding right when you needed proof."

Grant's crutch thudded against marble. "Twenty years as his loyal dog... yet you, who vanished for six, still hold his heart."

"I only repaid a debt."

"I know," Grant lowered his voice abruptly. "That night—you really did save Stella."

Adrian's eyes turned glacial.

"I could help you."

"Your price?"

"Renounce all claims to Xavier's estate."

A derisive laugh escaped Adrian. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I know," Grant leaned closer, breath hot against his ear, "you'll never outshine a dead man."

Shards of glass glittered between them like frozen tears.

"Mr. Alistair isn't dead."

Adrian's pupils contracted.

"He's in Houston right now," Grant savored his shock. "Care to guess who Stella will choose?"

The rhythmic tap of crutches faded down the corridor.

Staring at the old scar across his palm, Adrian suddenly laughed—a hollow, broken sound.