Chapter 4 Adam, The Son Of Betrayal
Yosef’s scowl grew darker at the interruption, his anger spiking as his subordinate rushed in.
The news that followed only sharpened his glare. A cold, heavy vibe rolled off him, like a storm ready to hit.
“Campbell Group’s firewall is tougher than most hacker groups,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And you’re saying someone broke through it?”
His subordinate, shaking, shoved a laptop toward him.
The screen glowed red, error codes screaming failure. Yosef’s stare turned ice-cold.
“Idiots,” he snapped, his words sharp as a blade. “What do I pay you morons for?”
The man bowed deeply, sweat dripping down his face. “Sir, they’re too good…” he stammered.
“Sir, they’re too good…” he stammered. “Last year, they messed with us for three minutes, and we barely held them off.”
“This time…” His voice faded, wilting under Yosef’s glare.
He was already soaked in sweats.
Yosef ignored him, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
He rarely got involved directly—guys like him called the shots from a distance. But this hacker had crossed him, and he was furious.
His moves were fast, a digital showdown with an invisible enemy. But as the minutes passed, his frown deepened.
The hacker kept up, matching him step for step, neither side winning.
The screen stayed red, taunting him.
Then, two messages popped up: “Just an appetizer, and you’re already choking?”
And that was followed by, “Yosef, you’re pathetic.”
The words stung, hitting his pride hard.
Before he could react, the screen went black, showing his reflection—cold and sharp as a mountain peak.
“Crash!” The laptop shattered under his fist.
“Track them!” he shouted. “Find their IP, now!”
The guy answered, “Sir… we tried last year. They slipped up once, and the IP traced to a women’s prison…”
He swallowed hard. “But a prison? No way someone there could hack our system. It had to be a fake IP.”
“This time…” he muttered, his voice fading, “they didn’t leave a trace.”
Yosef’s face darkened, his jaw tight. He’d never been outplayed like this.
A prison… The detail bugged him, but he couldn’t think of any enemies locked up there.
A sharp knock broke his thoughts.
The butler stepped in, bowing low, his face tense despite the chaos.
“Sir,” he said carefully, “Ms. Stone took the Adam out, and they haven’t come back. Should we…?”
Yosef stood, grabbing his coat from the chair.
Yosef stood, grabbing his coat from the chair.
The next morning, soft dawn light spilled into the hospital lounge.
Skylar stirred, woken by a warm, sticky hug.
“Mommy, you’re awake?” a boy’s voice chirped as he clung to her, his small body draped over hers.
Skylar blinked, caught off guard, and gently peeled him off, setting him beside her.
“Hey, little guy, I’m not your mommy,” she said softly, her tone kind but clear.
Still, something about Adam pulled at her. It was a strange, familiar warmth she couldn’t pin down, but she knew he wasn’t hers.
Adam’s face fell, his lip quivering.
“You are! You are!” he insisted, his voice getting louder. “When I saw you, my heart went boom boom!”
He leaned in, eyes big. “And… and I saw your picture in the attic at home.”
“Mommy, don’t you want me?” His voice broke, small and desperate.
Skylar froze, her breath catching when she heard the world “picture.”
Memories rushed back.
At the Campbell estate, she’d had one portrait, a wedding painting.
Yosef hadn’t shown up for their marriage, let alone taken photos.
But Skylar, foolishly in love despite his hatred, had painted one herself, dreaming of a moment that never happened.
Now the boy said he had seen that painting. Skylar suddenly had a suspicion.
“Adam! Adam!” A woman’s voice called down the hall, sharp and worried.
Skylar’s brow creased. The voice felt familiar, sparking a twinge of unease, but she brushed it off.
She knelt to Adam’s level, keeping her voice gentle. “Listen, buddy, I’m not your mommy. You were gone all night, and your family’s freaking out. Someone’s looking for you, so I’m taking you to them, okay?”
Skylar stood, quickly fixing herself up despite Adam’s wiggling protests. She picked him up and headed for the door.
The moment she stepped out, she bumped into a woman.
“Watch where you’re going!” the woman snapped, her voice full of scorn.
Adam almost slipped from her arms. Skylar steadied herself, ready to snap back, and then she looked up.
Her stomach sank. Standing in front of her was Elianna, the one pushed her into hell.
Elianna froze, her eyes wide with shock as they locked onto Skylar. She stumbled back, fear flickering across her face.
“You…” she stuttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe it. “How are you here?”
Her gaze swept over Skylar, her voice shaky with disbelief. “Weren’t you… dead? You were supposed to be dead…”
Her face went pale, like she’d just seen a ghost.
Skylar’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk.
“What’s wrong, Elianna? Spooked to see me?” she asked, her voice cutting. “Go on, tell me—where was I supposed to die?”
Elianna’s panic spiked, her eyes darting wildly. But when she spotted Adam in Skylar’s arms, that panic turned frantic.
“What are you doing with my son?” she shrieked, lunging forward. “Give him back! Give him to me!”
“Skylar, you’re crazy!” she screamed, her voice piercing. “Just out of prison and already snatching kids? Trying to get thrown back in?”
Elianna didn’t wait for an answer. She clawed at Skylar’s arm, her nails drawing blood.
Then she grabbed Adam’s arm, pulling so hard he cried out in pain.
“Mommy!” Adam sobbed, holding tight to Skylar. “Don’t let me go…”
“I don’t want to go with her…” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “She’s not my mommy… she’s bad…”
“Help me… please…” His small body shook, eyes wide with fear, like some gut instinct was screaming danger.
Skylar stood still, her mind racing. ‘Mother and son? Adam… he’s Elianna’s kid?’
Her heart sank. ‘Then he’s… Yosef’s too. The truth hit like a knife. No wonder he feels so familiar. But why’s he so scared of her?’
Before Skylar could move, Elianna yanked Adam from her arms.
Right away, Adam’s body jerked, convulsing hard, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps.
Skylar snapped out of her daze, her voice booming.
“Elianna, are you even his real mother?” she demanded, stepping closer.
“He’s got a congenital heart condition—he’s delicate,” she said, her voice urgent. “Pulling him around like that? You’re stressing him out. You could kill him!”
