Chapter 3

The study light was on.

James sat behind the massive mahogany desk, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the surface.

Before him sat a cup of coffee, now cold.

He hadn't drunk it.

His thoughts were chaotic.

In his mind, the scene of that child crying and calling him "daddy" kept replaying.

And those eyes.

Those eyes almost identical to Grace's.

Three years ago, the day the child was born, he'd been abroad negotiating an important contract.

By the time he returned, the child had already been born for several days.

Grace was weak after childbirth, so he hadn't thought much of it.

Household matters had always been Victoria's domain.

Victoria was Grace's distant relative who'd been with the family since Grace married into the Reed household.

They trusted her absolutely.

So he'd never questioned his own daughter.

But tonight, that child called Juniper was like a pebble dropped into his calm lake, stirring up ripples.

Would a three-year-old child have that kind of gaze?

It wasn't just fear—there was a calmness and stubbornness beyond her years.

Too strange.

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in."

Victoria pushed the door open, head lowered, expression respectful yet tinged with unease.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?"

"Sit."

James pointed to the chair opposite.

Victoria seemed flattered, sitting down carefully.

"That child is called Juniper?"

James got straight to the point.

"Yes, sir."

Victoria's heart leapt to her throat.

"Who is her father?"

James stared into her eyes.

Victoria's gaze flickered.

"I... I don't know."

"She was an abandoned baby I found at my hometown doorstep. I felt sorry for her, so I kept her with me."

This lie she'd prepared long ago.

Seamless.

James said nothing, just watching her.

His gaze seemed to pierce through to the soul.

Victoria felt her scalp crawl under his stare, cold sweat pouring down.

"How many years have you been with Grace?"

James suddenly changed the question.

"Almost ten years, sir."

"Ten years."

James nodded. "Grace trusts you very much."

"Ma'am's kindness to me is as heavy as a mountain."

Victoria quickly pledged loyalty.

"So three years ago when Grace gave birth, you handled everything at the hospital, inside and out."

James said casually.

Victoria's heart skipped a beat.

What did he mean?

Was he suspecting something?

"This... this was part of my duties."

Her voice was dry.

"I remember you said at the time that when the child was born, she had a red birthmark on her ankle."

James continued.

Victoria's face turned deathly pale in an instant.

The birthmark!

How could she have forgotten about this!

Back then, to make the Reed couple believe Aria was their daughter, she'd deliberately fabricated this birthmark lie.

Because Aria did have a red birthmark on her ankle.

But the real Reed daughter had no birthmark at all!

"Yes... yes, sir."

"Miss Aria does have a plum-blossom-shaped birthmark on her ankle."

She could only bite the bullet and confirm.

"Mm."

James acknowledged, not continuing that topic.

He picked up the cold coffee and took a sip.

"Alright, you may go."

"Remember, control your daughter. Don't let her run around scaring Aria."

His tone was bland, revealing no emotion.

Yet Victoria felt like she'd just walked through death's door.

"Yes, sir. I'll remember."

She quickly stood, bowing as she backed out.

Not until she left the study and closed the door did she realize her back was completely drenched in cold sweat.

Too close.

Fortunately, sir didn't continue questioning.

She breathed a long sigh of relief and hurried toward the servants' quarters.

She had to get back and properly discipline that damned Juniper.

All this trouble was caused by that little bitch!

In the study, James set down his coffee cup.

He opened a drawer and took out a photograph.

It was Grace's one-month-old baby photo.

In the picture, the infant was plump and fair with bright, dark eyes.

Almost identical to that child called Juniper tonight.

Another thought occurred to him.

Grace's family had a very distinctive hereditary trait.

Severe mango allergy.

Yet his daughter Aria loved eating mangoes most of all.

Before, he'd simply thought the child didn't take after her mother.

But now, thinking back, this detail seemed suspicious everywhere.

A bold thought so absurd even he found it ridiculous rose in his mind.

Could it be...

He picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a number.

"Hello, Leo, it's me."

"I need you to handle something."

"First thing tomorrow morning, send your most reliable person to my house."

"Collect two samples for a paternity test."

"One from Aria, the other..."

He paused, the image of that thin yet stubborn little face floating through his mind.

"...from Victoria's daughter, Juniper."

"Remember, this matter is absolutely confidential."

After hanging up, James leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

He hoped he was overthinking.

At that moment, in a large tree outside the window.

I was hiding behind the dense leaves, taking in everything in the study.

Though I couldn't hear what they were saying.

I saw James's expression.

Saw his contemplation when he took out the photograph.

And most importantly, saw his serious, resolute expression when he made that final call.

I knew my plan had succeeded.

He was wavering.

Next, I just needed to add more fuel to the fire.

Let this spark of doubt burn into a raging inferno.

I slid down from the tree silently, agile as a cat.

I didn't return to the servants' quarters.

Victoria was definitely furious now—going back would be walking into a trap.

I was going somewhere else.

A place where I could make the fire burn even hotter.

Grace Hartley's room.