A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 430

What a family

Jason POV

Adrian was her grandchild.

That fact kept circling through my mind.

Whatever disagreements existed between them, whatever Adrian had done during the Heir Trials, he was still her grandson. Yet someone had created a fake work trip, removed him from his wife and baby and hidden him somewhere in River City while Clara continued believing her husband was away on business.

Then there was Amber.

Her own blood.

Mrs. Wyatt had allegedly gone even further with her.

Someone had arranged access to Amber’s hospital routine, compromised her food and used a nurse who had already earned our trust. Amber had been given a powerful sedative, botulinum toxin and aconite, while another part of the plan had apparently included a syringe containing penicillin-a substance capable of killing me because of my allergy.

That wasn’t anger.

It wasn’t a family argument that had gone too far.

It was an operation.

And that left one explanation that made more sense than the others.

The Wyatts hadn’t suddenly become involved with the Vincents.

Maybe they had been involved all along.

I looked at Amber while the thought settled heavily inside me.

We had spent months uncovering pieces of the Vincent network: trafficking routes, false identities, marriages arranged like transactions, children transferred between families, companies used as fronts, people hidden beneath new surnames and bloodlines manipulated for power. Every time we believed we’d reached the edge of it, another layer appeared.

Maybe Mrs. Wyatt wasn’t betraying the Asher family to join that network.

Maybe she was protecting a network she had already belonged to.

That would explain the desperation better than money ever could.

It could explain why Adrian refusing to leave Amber’s side became dangerous enough that his own relatives removed him. It could explain why Mrs. Wyatt’s branch suddenly wanted to separate from the Ashers once the Vincent operation began collapsing. It could even explain why Amber had become such an urgent target.

But it still didn’t tell us the truth about Mr. White.

If Mrs. Wyatt was his mother, then Mr. White carried both Vincent and Asher blood, and a secret that enormous had been buried for decades.

If she wasn’t, then whatever connected them might be even more complicated.

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Either way, I was beginning to believe Mrs. Wyatt hadn’t walked away from the Asher family because of something that had happened recently.

Something much older had finally caught up with her.

A few hours later, Mr. Stait walked into Amber’s room looking like a man who was trying very hard not to murder an eighteen-year-old. That expression had become surprisingly easy to recognize. I was sitting beside Amber, watching the monitors while holding her hand. Her numbers had remained better throughout the afternoon, and Emory had finally convinced me to eat something, although I’d managed barely half of it before deciding hospital food was a crime nobody was investigating seriously enough.

“What did Jasmine do?” I asked as soon as I saw him.

Mr. Stait stopped and stared at me. “Why do you automatically assume Jasmine did something?”

“Because you’re making the face.”

“What face?”

“The Jasmine face.”

His expression somehow became even more irritated, proving my point. He exhaled slowly through his nose before pulling out his phone. “She ignored my orders.”

“Of course she did.” At this point, surprise would have required more energy than I possessed.

“I specifically told her and Noah to maintain surveillance until the recovery team was in position,” he explained.” Apparently, she decided visual confirmation was more important.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. I didn’t even have the strength to be angry anymore. “Is she hurt? Is Noah hurt? Did she get caught?”

“No, no, and no.”

“Then I’ll save the lecture until after you tell me what she found.”

The irritation disappeared from Mr. Stait’s face as he approached me and held out his phone. “She confirmed Adrian is there.”

My entire body went still. “Confirmed how?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned the screen toward me, and the photograph explained everything. It wasn’t particularly clear. It looked as though Jasmine had taken it through a narrow opening or from somewhere she absolutely had no business being. Most of the image showed the interior of what appeared to be an old warehouse, with a concrete floor, industrial shelving, scattered crates and poor lighting. It took me only a second to find the person lying near the far side of the photograph.

Adrian.

He was on the floor.

For one horrible second, my mind refused to process anything beyond the complete stillness of his body. He was lying on his side with one arm partially trapped beneath him. His clothes were dirty and wrinkled, and even through the poor image quality I could see something around one of his wrists.

“Is he breathing?”

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“Jasmine says yes.”

enlarged the photograph with shaking fingers, searching for anything that might tell me what condition he was in. “Why is he unconscious? Is he injured?”

“We don’t know yet.”