"He's stalling," someone sneered from the crowd. "The kid's just dragging this out for attention."

I didn't bother responding. Instead, I offered a dry chuckle and locked eyes with the man standing beside Joanna.

"You seem awfully nervous about her retrieving those files, Matthew. Guilty conscience about what really happened back then?"

Matthew's face went rigid. "Bullshit!" His voice cracked. "Why would I have a guilty conscience?"

Joanna frowned. "Matt, back off. This is my business."

"But Joanna—"

"I said back off." She cut him dead. "Today, I'm going to crush this bastard until he's begging on his knees."

Matthew opened his mouth to argue, but seeing the manic determination in her eyes, he swallowed his words and stepped back. His hand slipped into his pocket. Under the table, his fingers flew across his phone screen.

He was messaging his people to destroy the evidence.

He thought he was being subtle. Flawless, even.

What he didn't know was that I never walked into a war zone unprepared. My team was already inside the system. The moment his people tried to delete a single byte, mine would intercept it.

Oblivious to the digital warfare behind the scenes, Joanna turned her glare back to Lucy. Her eyes held a toxic mix of stubbornness and resentment.

"Asher Farley," she hissed. "Do you really think playing dumb will get you past security?"

Her voice trembled—not with madness, but with six years of suppressed hatred.

"I'll tell you this once: as long as that girl has my blood in her veins, she belongs to the Fox family. She is my property to control!"

She slammed her palm against the table. Her confidence in those files was absolute.

Lucy, terrified by the screeching, cowered behind my legs. Her knuckles went white gripping my trousers.

"Daddy..." A sob caught in her throat.

I crouched to soothe her, rubbing small circles on her back. But when I looked up at Joanna, my gaze could cut glass.

"She's my daughter," I said, low and dangerous. "She answers only to me."

I straightened, towering over the table. "As for the past... do you honestly believe I made the first move?"

"What did you say?" Joanna's face flushed crimson. "You're nothing but a filthy chauffeur! Don't you dare twist the truth! Back then, it was clearly you who—"

"Let me guess." I cut her off, shifting focus to the sweating man beside her. "Matthew told you I drugged you? That I forced myself on you while you were vulnerable?"

Matthew's left eye twitched. Genuine panic flickered across his face.

"Shut your mouth!" he roared, his complexion turning sickly gray. "Stop spewing nonsense! You set Joanna up! You plotted to get her pregnant just to ruin her life!"

He turned to the crowd, desperate to regain control. "And now he's back, dragging that poor child into this mess to use her as a bargaining chip! He's trying to blackmail the Fox family for money!"

The murmurs swelled into condemnation.

"So it really was a setup? Disgusting."

"Using his own daughter to extort money? The man has no bottom line."

"Poor Miss Fox. Imagine being entangled with a predator like that."

To them, the heiress and the executive were trustworthy. I was just the help. My humble background was my original sin.

Lucy didn't understand the words, but she felt the wave of hostility. She buried her face in my coat, crying harder.

"Daddy, they look so scary. I want to go home. Please?"

I held her tight against my chest, shielding her from their prying eyes. My hand offered gentle comfort, but my expression stayed cold as a frozen lake. I didn't bother looking at the jeering crowd.

My eyes were fixed on my prey.

"Whether I set you up or not... the files will reveal the truth," I said calmly.

I checked my watch. Time was up.

"Just make sure you can handle it when they arrive, Joanna. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Joanna glared at me, resentment etched deep in every line of her face.

"You drugged me that night, Asher. There's no doubt."

I didn't bother explaining. The world had already convicted me. In everyone's eyes, I was the predator who drugged the heiress, forced himself on her, and trapped her with a pregnancy. The Fox family wanted my head, but to save face, they forced Joanna to marry me instead.

The truth? Nobody cared. Joanna certainly didn't. Her hatred for me—and the child—had never unraveled. That hatred was precisely why, in my previous life, I'd ended up plummeting from a rooftop.

Minutes later, an assistant burst in, winded, clutching a thick stack of documents. "Ma'am, the archives. I pulled everything."

Matthew's face drained of color.

Joanna snatched the folder, tearing through pages with frantic intensity. The furrow in her brow deepened. Then she froze. Her gaze snapped to Matthew, confusion clouding her eyes.

"Matt? The police report places you at the hotel before us. Surveillance confirmed it." Her voice trembled. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Matthew's jaw clenched, his mind visibly racing. "I was worried about you, Joanna. I went to check on you. I kept it secret because... I couldn't bear making you relive that night."

Joanna fell silent.

She flipped another page, her finger landing on a medical report. "But according to the toxicology screening, Asher was admitted with the same substance in his system. He was a victim too." She looked up, suspicion creeping into her tone. "And your arrival time predates ours..."

Matthew flushed a deep, guilty crimson.

"It's fake! It has to be fake!" he blurted, panic rising. "Don't you see? Asher told the police he was drugged to cover his tracks! He staged it to escape suspicion!"

Excuses spilled from him like water from a cracked dam.

Surprisingly, it worked. Joanna's suspicion flickered and died. Years of dependency on Matthew, his carefully cultivated "savior" image, outweighed the cold facts on paper. She suppressed her doubts and turned her fury back on me.

"Asher Farley, these records prove nothing! For all I know, you colluded with someone to set this up!"

I watched them, unimpressed. They played off each other perfectly—the manipulator and the willing victim. Matthew had a talent for twisting reality, painting black as white. Impressive, in a pathetic sort of way. No wonder he'd framed me so effectively before.

A vicious glint entered Matthew's eyes. He realized the files were dangerous ground. He needed to shift the battlefield.

He sneered. "Asher, Joanna moved on a long time ago. You're the one dragging up old wounds. But fine—if you claim to care about this child so much, prove it."

He stepped closer, his voice dripping with false reason. "Accept a challenge. Pass, and you prove you're capable of protecting the kid. We won't make things difficult anymore."

I watched his eyes dart around, calculating. He thought he had me cornered.

Perfect.

He'd walked right into my crosshairs. Joanna wouldn't believe me without action, and Matthew needed me gone. From the moment I stepped into this room, I'd controlled the board.

Now the real show could begin.

"Fine," I said coldly. "I agree."