Chapter 182: Cannot be killed.
Micheal.
I am finally going to have her all to myself tonight.
Who even cares if it is merely happening here within the sterile confines of the office?
As long as I get to remain close to her, I am far beyond satisfied—this proximity gives me far greater access to her every move, every breath, every vulnerability.
Oh, my dear, sweet Theresa.
You losing your memories is truly nothing short of a divine blessing in disguise for me. Your forgotten past is the very door that allows me into your world. But then again, even if those locked memories were to suddenly resurface and you managed to remember every single detail, there is absolutely nothing you could ever do to stop me now.
I casually glanced down at my phone screen, watching the digital clock flick to the exact time marking the end of the working day. Closing hours had finally arrived.
I hastily packed up the clutter on my desk and rushed straight toward the private restroom down the hall. Stepping inside, I turned to the mirror and painstakingly adjusted my tie, smoothing down the lapels of my suit to ensure I looked impeccably handsome.
The cold truth was that I was currently living a lie, wrapped tightly inside a borrowed identity—and I was fully aware that it was only a matter of time before people started sniffing around and putting the pieces together.
The original owner of this fragile life had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunate enough to be struck down and killed in a dark, silent hit-and-run accident.
For weeks, I had been desperately searching for a seamless, foolproof way to infiltrate the high-security walls of the Ironclad Group, and his tragic death had presented itself as the most perfect, golden opportunity imaginable.
Because the original owner of this identity had been a fresh hire who had not yet officially reported for his first day at the company, stepping into his shoes and assuming his entire existence was ridiculously easy, as no one knew his face; no one knew his voice.
I tilted my head, studying my reflection under the harsh fluorescent lights. I carefully arranged my features and meticulously applied a subtle dusting of makeup across my skin, expertly altering my contours to mask my true facial structure just enough to evade suspicion.
The moment I was completely satisfied with my deceptive appearance, I turned, left the restroom behind, and made my way down to the empty corporate cafeteria to patiently wait for her.
I pulled out a chair and sat down, settling in to wait patiently for Theresa to show up. Minutes slowly ticked away in the quiet cafeteria, stretching into a long, agonizing hour before the harsh reality finally washed over me: she wasn’t coming.
My jaw dropped in complete disbelief, and almost instantly, a wave of dark, burning rage seized control of my blood.
How on earth could she do this to me?
How dare she make a fool out of me?
If she had known all along that she had no intention of showing up, the very least she could have done was send a quick text message to let me know. Instead, she had left me sitting here like an idiot, wasting my precious time while I waited faithfully for her arrival.
Overwhelmed by a sudden, violent burst of frustration, I slammed my open palm down onto the table with devastating force. The violent impact shuddered through the wood, causing the lukewarm cup of coffee I had ordered to kill time during my long wait to slosh violently over the rim and spill across the surface.
Ignoring the mess around me as though it no longer existed, I reached into my pocket and snatched out my phone in one swift motion.
My fingers moved rapidly across the screen, driven by urgency as I typed out a short, sharp message without the slightest hesitation.
«Get me the whereabouts of Theresa Cooper.»
The instant I finished, I hit the send button, my thumb pressing against the screen with impatient force. I stood there waiting, my chest rising and falling with restless irritation as every passing second stretched unbearably long.
My grip around the phone tightened, my temper simmering just beneath the surface while I stared at the screen.
Within a short while, the display suddenly lit up with an incoming reply.
Without wasting a moment, I eagerly lowered my gaze and scanned the information that had been sent.
However, the instant my eyes settled on the address in the text, they twitched sharply with deep, unsettling suspicion.
Why on earth was she at a hospital?
The question struck me with enough force to send a sudden chill slicing cleanly through the anger that had consumed me only moments earlier. My thoughts immediately shifted, the address refusing to leave my mind.
Without another second of hesitation, I pushed myself to my feet and strode out, leaving the now-empty cafeteria behind.
My pace quickened until it was almost a sprint as I rushed straight towards my car. Throwing myself into the driver’s seat, I started the engine without delay before speeding off into the night, driving like a madman towards the hospital whose address glowed brightly on my phone.
The second I arrived, I burst through the front entrance and made a quick, urgent inquiry at the registration desk.
Armed with her room details, I hurried down the sterile corridor, only to stop in my tracks as I drew closer. Hiding in the shadows, I listened intently, absorbing every single detail of the frantic drama that had just unfolded before my eyes.
The triplets looked terrifyingly ruthless, their faces set in cold, unforgiving steel, while Alex looked utterly pathetic—crumpled on the floor and drowning in his own tears like a broken man. But frankly, none of those men or their pathetic little conflicts mattered to me at all.
Because no matter what those fools decided, one absolute truth remained: the baby could not be killed.