Chadwick recognized that face instantly.
It was Hank Lonsdale, the heir of the Lonsdale dynasty.
In truth, Chadwick had never met the man in person, but anyone who reached a certain level of wealth in Metropia kept a photo of Hank saved in their heads. Not out of admiration, but purely for survival.
Hank Lonsdale. The man who had a stranglehold on global arms dealing. The ruthless underworld boss who had brought the most violent cartels in Mexistar to their knees. Compared to the kind of power Hank wielded, Chadwick's petty cartel tactics were literally child's play.
Meeting Hank's dead, half-amused stare, Chadwick felt his clothes instantly soak with a cold sweat. His knees started knocking uncontrollably.
His mind raced, desperately trying to compute the situation. Giselle had claimed Hank was her daughter's father. Chadwick hadn't believed it because Hank Lonsdale didn't *do* families. He didn't have a wife, let alone a kid.
But here he was. Showing up at exactly this time, in exactly this place. It couldn't be a coincidence.
There was no such thing as coincidences at this level, but God, Chadwick was praying for one.
Hank didn't even look at him.
He walked straight to Giselle's car, leaned down, and inspected the driver's side window. He noted the faint, singular scratch the steel pipe had left on the bulletproof glass.
His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He pulled the door open and placed a protective hand over the top of her head as she stepped out.
"Are you hurt?"
Giselle shook her head.
Only then did Hank finally turn to face Chadwick.
"Mr. Dawson," Hank said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I hear you didn't take my name very seriously earlier tonight."
He paused, tilting his head slightly. A faint, chilling smile touched the corner of his lips. It was the smile of the devil right before he dragged you to hell.
"You didn't believe she was my wife? Or that Gigi was my daughter?"
At those words, Chadwick's legs completely gave out.
"M-Mr. Lonsdale... I didn't know. I swear to God, I had no idea Ms. Turner was your wife." Chadwick's lips trembled violently. Every ounce of his earlier arrogance had evaporated, replaced by pure, pathetic terror.
Hank ignored him.
He glanced over his shoulder at Wraith.
Wraith stepped forward, holding a sleek tablet. He walked up to the trembling Chadwick, grabbed him by the jaw, and forced his head up, making him stare at the screen.
A video was playing.
It was Chadwick's son.
He was four years old. The footage was taken earlier that afternoon at his elite private kindergarten. The boy was laughing, chasing a butterfly near the slide, completely innocent and carefree.

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The readers' comments on the novel: She Was the Treasure All Along
Please publish another book... Reborn fake heiress: watch the whole family burn.. thank you !!...