Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

"That’s certainly a good plan, but I absolutely won’t agree if you’re the one going into danger!"

"I can’t trust sending another woman. If she makes even the slightest mistake, everything will be for nothing. Quentin, you have to support me," she continued. "Your job is to find information and a photo of the woman he loved who died."

"You want to get plastic surgery?"

Nora Ainsworth wrapped her arms around his neck. "This face has always been my own. It’s a gift from my parents, and I have no right to change it. I have another way. Just get me the photo and the information. I’ll handle the rest."

Seeing her firm resolve, he had no choice but to agree.

"Nora, I’m afraid..."

Nora Ainsworth held him tighter, pressing her cheek firmly against his. "Don’t be afraid. Taking a risk myself is better than sending men into a battle. Too many people would die that way. Besides, isn’t taking a risk a form of training? I have to become stronger. She’s my mother. I need to find out for myself whether she’s dead and where she’s buried, or if she’s alive, where on earth she is."

Quentin Grant turned, wrapping an arm around her waist. The slow caress of their cheeks gave way to a passionate kiss, and she fell back onto the sofa with Quentin half-lying on top of her.

Passion, once ignited, was impossible to stop.

"Daddy!" Two childish voices made Quentin Grant freeze.

He turned his head and saw two little boys standing on the stairs.

"What is it?"

"What are you and Mommy doing?" Elmer Grant frowned. "In a public space... you’re... this is so improper!"

Quentin Grant sat up. Nora Ainsworth, embarrassed, sat up as well and straightened her clothes.

"Mommy and I were sharing a loving embrace."

"Oh..."

"Ooh..."

Quentin Grant pulled Nora Ainsworth to her feet. Burning with desire, he rushed upstairs. As he passed the two brothers, he said, "Mommy and Daddy are going to rest. You two little brats had better get to bed quickly, too."

"If we’re little brats, doesn’t that make you a big brat? What’s the difference, besides size?" Dylan Grant retorted.

At that moment, Quentin Grant had no time to waste bickering with his two darlings. He rushed upstairs without another word.

He bolted the bedroom door and impatiently threw Nora Ainsworth onto the bed, his hands roaming freely.

The two boys, who had followed them back upstairs, stood at the door and heard the noises from within. Their little faces flushed red, and they scurried back to their own room.

Elmer Grant expressed his disapproval. "Dylan, look at Dad. He has absolutely no dignity."

"Does he care about his dignity in front of us? He tossed that to the winds long ago, so don’t even bother expecting it." Dylan Grant sat cross-legged, his laptop on his lap. "You heard what Mommy needs. We don’t have to go to any cemetery. I’ll just hack into that bastard’s computer right now and see if I can find a photo."

Elmer Grant climbed onto the bed and sat beside Dylan, watching. "Dylan, if Dad finds out we spend our days figuring out how to hack people’s computers, do you think he’ll kill us?"

"No way. Even if Dad had the heart to, Mom wouldn’t let him. Besides, Dad will be happy that we’re so skilled." His fingers flew across the keyboard. He then pulled out a device and plugged it into the laptop. The screen went black, and a stream of English letters scrolled rapidly up and down. His hands CLACKED furiously on the keyboard. Finally, he grinned. "I’m in! Hey, Elmer, this guy’s camera is on."

Elmer Grant leaned in for a look. "Dylan, is that bastard... you know... making a baby? Look here." His little finger pointed to a corner of the screen where a smooth leg was propped up at an odd angle.

"Too bad there’s no audio," Dylan said, gripping the mouse and quickly clicking through the man’s folders. "They’re all password-protected."

Elmer Grant pulled the laptop in front of himself. "Don’t worry, I’ll crack them."

A moment later, he had opened Toby Dalton’s folders.

To their surprise, every single folder on his computer was filled not with documents, but with countless photos of the same woman.

"This has to be her. Copy them, quick!" Dylan urged. "I’m going to get Mom and Dad."

"KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK."

"What is it?" Quentin Grant’s voice came from inside the room.

"Mommy, do you want the photos of that woman Toby Dalton was in love with?"

"Wait." Nora Ainsworth pushed Quentin Grant off her, threw on some clothes, and opened the door.

"Honey, you have them?"

"Come with me, Mommy."

Nora entered her boys’ bedroom and saw the photos on the laptop. "Is this...?" she asked, confused.

"Yep. We found them in folders on his computer. It’s filled with all sorts of pictures of this woman."

Nora was stunned. "How did you two get into his computer?"

"Don’t worry about the details, Mommy. Here, take the laptop to the printer and print them out."

Nora decided not to ask any more questions and left the boys’ room with the laptop.

As soon as she left, a forlorn Quentin Grant followed her out.

After printing the photos, just as she was about to close the laptop, she noticed the video file.

The people they had only caught a glimpse of were now fully visible to Nora Ainsworth and Quentin Grant.

Quentin Grant wanted to copy the video, but he didn’t know how. At that moment, he felt utterly outmatched by his own son.

He had no choice but to call Dylan out. It couldn’t be helped, even if the video’s content was not for children.

Dylan’s eyes widened when he saw the screen. Watching the man and woman’s actions, his face turned beet red. He quickly copied the file and shut down the computer.

"There’s no sound?"

"Nope. For a stream like this, he has to turn it on manually from his end. We were only able to hack in because his computer is on. If it were off, we couldn’t have gotten in."

Quentin Grant nodded. "Son, you’re already this badass. What are you going to be like when you grow up?"

Dylan grinned. "That’ll be my future wife’s problem. You don’t need to worry about it."

With that, he carried the laptop back to his room.

Quentin Grant looked at Nora. "Well, that’s settled for now. Shall we get back to what we were doing before?"

Nora lowered her head with a shy smile. "I’m all yours for the rest of the night. Do with me as you please. This girl will see it through to the end!"

Quentin Grant laughed heartily and swept her into his arms. "Then I’ll be sure to play to my heart’s content."

**

「That night.」

The night air was cool as a light rain began to fall outside.

Claire Sinclair and Catherine Callahan didn’t know who had rescued them, but they forced themselves to stay alert, determined to meet the person behind their release.

Seconds ticked by. Finally, a few men led the mother and daughter into a room.

The moment they walked in, they saw the back of a man sitting at a table. He appeared to be quite young.

"Are you the one who rescued us?" Claire Sinclair asked.

He turned his head, his tone casual. "If not me, who else would it be?"

The moment Catherine Callahan saw his face, she was stunned. "Toby Dalton?"

Hearing the name, Claire Sinclair also realized who he was.

"Good, you know who I am. Saves me an introduction." He stood up.

"Why did you rescue us? We don’t even know you."

He sat down near them. "Does not knowing you mean I can’t save you? Besides, I’m no good Samaritan. I rescued you simply because I want to make a deal."

Claire Sinclair looked at him, her heart sinking. She had nothing of value to trade. ’Unless...’

"Speak freely."

Toby Dalton cleared his throat. "I’ll be direct—beating around the bush isn’t my style. The deal I want to make is for information about Nora Ainsworth’s birth mother. You can refuse, of course. I won’t harm you, but I will send you back to Valeria."

Claire Sinclair’s eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know about that?"

"I don’t mind telling you. Quentin Grant did something I cannot forgive. So... are you going to talk or not? I’ll give you five minutes to think about it."

Hearing this, Catherine immediately looked at Claire. "Mom, do you want to go back to Valeria? I don’t want to go back there just to die! We’ll be killed if we go back. Maybe not right away, but it’s a death sentence sooner or later."

Claire waved her hand dismissively. "Let me think."

Catherine watched, her heart pounding with anxiety.

The seconds ticked by. After a moment, Claire looked at Toby Dalton. "I can tell you," she said, "but you have to agree to a few of my demands."

"Just tell me what I want to know, and the rest is easy to discuss," Toby Dalton replied with a gentle smile.

"First, guarantee my daughter’s and my safety. Second, get me a prosthetic leg. And third, give me a large sum of money."

He agreed readily. "All small matters. No problem."

Claire Sinclair nodded. "Take care of the last two items first. Then I will tell you."

Eager for the information, Toby Dalton immediately arranged for a doctor to be secretly brought in to fit Claire with a prosthetic limb.

He then gave her ten million.

Claire Sinclair could stand again. The hatred in her heart festered, buried deep inside.

"She isn’t dead. I have her locked away in a very secret place. I’ll take you there."

Toby Dalton immediately had his men take Claire and Catherine by private jet to an abandoned villa on a mountainside in Grestin. The area was extremely remote and difficult to access, so the local villagers had long since moved away, turning it into a ghost town.

After a series of twists and turns, they finally reached a large, gateless courtyard. There, a woman with long, matted hair, dressed in clothes that were beyond filthy, was shackled by one ankle to a long iron chain. The chain was long enough for her to move between the house and the courtyard.

Seeing the crowd of people, Faye Sinclair lifted her head, spared them a single glance, and then lowered her head again, returning to whatever she was doing.

"Sister," Claire Sinclair said, stepping forward.

There was no response.

"Sister, it’s been a long time since I came to see you. Are you all right?"

Still, there was no response.

Toby Dalton ordered, "Men, take her with us."

With that, he turned and walked away.

By the time they returned to his base of operations, it was morning.

Toby Dalton ordered his men to guard Faye Sinclair closely. He then took several photos and had them sent by express courier to Quentin Grant before casually going to catch up on his sleep.

It was already afternoon when Quentin Grant received the photos.

He looked at the photos, then glanced at Nora beside him, all thoughts of work completely gone.