Chapter 61
Shane felt a deep sense of threat. In the presence of his grandfather, he had no choice but to call out, “Grandpa, Damon.”
Anthony glanced at him with visible disdain. “Look at you. Do you even resemble the CEO of Lundberg Group?”
Shane’s once–pristine suit was stained with dirt, and there were traces of water on his body and hair. He looked undeniably disheveled.
Damon cast him a calm glance, his long fingers placing a black chess piece lightly on the board. “He really doesn’t look like a CEO,” he remarked without subtlety, directly expressing his hostility toward Shane.
Shane wanted to ask his burning questions, but under Anthony’s presence, he refrained and went to his room to freshen up.
When he returned to the room, Anthony had already gone to rest. However, Damon remained unmoving at the chessboard as if he had been waiting.
“Damon, I have something I’d like to ask you,” Shane said.
Despite the burning questions in his mind, his confidence faltered in Damon’s presence.
Damon turned his wheelchair slightly, his narrow eyes scrutinizing Shane.
Even I, though no longer alive, felt an instinctive shiver of fear under his gaze.
His pupils were contracted, and when his eyelids drooped to cover a third of them, his entire demeanor turned icy and unapproachable.
With tightly pressed lips and a naturally commanding aura, he exuded an oppressive authority.
“Speak,” Damon said curtly, his single word carrying immense weight. Despite being a mere observer, I couldn’t help but tremble slightly.
“I want to know why you were at the hospital when Allison had a miscarriage. That was the obstetrics department. Someone also saw you interacting with her before our wedding.”
Damon toyed with a smooth black chess piece in his hand, and the corners of his mouth curled into a scornful smile. “Are you suggesting there was something inappropriate between Allison and me?”
Shane had tried to be subtle, but Damon’s direct response left him utterly humiliated.
“So, you’re doubting the wife you’ve known, loved, and shared your life with for years?”
“Damon, that’s not what I meant. I just-”
Damon didn’t let him finish. His tone was icy and firm as he said, “Then let me ask questions. Where were you when Allison miscarried? Why did she lose the baby?
you a few
“You were at the hospital every day–why didn’t you bother to see her? And now you stand here questioning me? What gives you the right?”
The barrage of questions left Shane speechless, and his guilt was written all over his face. Struggling to regain the upper hand, he accused, Are you trying to change the subject because you’re hiding something? You’ve been meeting Allison in secret, haven’t you?”
His clumsy tactics were so transparent that even I, as a ghost, could see right through them.
“Yes, I met her years ago,” Damon admitted calmly.
Shane’s face lit up with smug satisfaction, his expression brimming with misplaced triumph.
Before he could bask in his imagined victory, Damon spoke again. “Do you want to know when we met?”
From Shane’s expression, it was clear his mind was conjuring up all sorts of unsavory scenarios.
Damon took a sip of his drink, the rising steam veiling his sharp, handsome features. In a slow, deliberate tone, he continued, “It was during the year you were overseas when the earthquake struck.
“A foolish woman’s passport was hidden, forcing her to cross the ocean illegally to reach the disaster zone as quickly as possible. Guess what happened next?”
