Victor Sullivan stared at his phone screen with a furrowed brow.

The surveillance footage Adrian sent was too blurry to make out anything beyond vague silhouettes.

He dialed the company lawyer. "Attorney Chen, can this be used as evidence?"

After a pause, the lawyer replied, "Chairman Sullivan, the footage is too unclear. The chances of winning are slim."

Victor exhaled in quiet relief.

He didn’t want this to escalate. Shane’s complicated background could damage the Sullivan family’s reputation if exposed.

"Adrian, the footage is inconclusive. Shane was focused on piloting the yacht—he wouldn’t have noticed anyone on deck."

Adrian’s voice turned icy. "His sudden decision to take the yacht out was clearly premeditated!"

"Men enjoy tinkering with machinery. It’s normal."

"You defend him like he’s your real son."

Victor swallowed his retort.

"Fine. Name your compensation—but only one thing."

"I want Shane Prescott dead." Adrian’s voice dripped venom. "Surely you won’t hesitate over a grave robber’s worthless life?"

"Enough!" Victor snapped. "He’s Ethan’s friend!"

The call ended with a sharp click.

Adrian hurled his phone onto the couch, chest heaving.

"Grandfather, it’s confirmed. Shane is Ethan Prescott. Victor is protecting him."

Leonard Laurent stroked his beard, eyes dark. "And the DNA samples?"

"He’s too careful—not even a strand of hair left." Adrian gritted his teeth. "But we don’t need proof anymore."

That night, Adrian was admitted to the VIP ward of Central Hospital.

Doctors diagnosed him with minor scrapes and a cold.

Victor arrived with gifts, only to meet Leonard’s glacial stare.

"Adrian, I came to see you."

The man in bed offered a hollow smile. "Of course. Corporate interests come first. Ethan’s friend is clearly more valuable than an adopted son."

Victor had no reply.

Nathan Laurent stormed in. "That bastard will kneel and apologize!"

Victor wiped his brow. Shane would rather die than kneel.

Meanwhile, Shane sat in Ethan’s study.

"Start with these management books." Ethan pushed a stack toward him. "You’ll join the company soon."

Before Shane could respond, Victor called.

After hanging up, the brothers exchanged a look.

In the hospital hallway, Ethan murmured, "Stick to the script. No improvising."

The door opened.

Shane stood at the foot of the bed, voice calm. "My apologies. The waves were too rough—I didn’t see anyone on deck."

Adrian’s face darkened. The excuse was airtight.

Nathan lunged from behind, aiming a kick at Shane’s knees.

"On your knees!"

Ethan moved like lightning, sending Nathan crashing into the wall.

"Touch my brother," he growled, eyes sharp as blades, "and you’re dead."