Chapter 4

Caspar's POV:

The shrill ring of my phone cut through the early morning silence.

I groggily opened my eyes, a sharp pain shooting through my temples.

Fumbling around the nightstand, I grabbed my phone, seeing "Dorothy" flashing on the screen.

Damn it. I frowned, the discomfort from last night still lingering.

Taking a deep breath, I hit accept.

"Darling, you finally picked up." Grandmother Dorothy's voice was warm yet firm. "I wanted to ask when you'll have time to meet Ms Bailey?"

"Which Ms Bailey?" I blinked in confusion, my brain still foggy as hell.

An exasperated sigh came through the line. "Your wife, Caspar. Good Lord, how could you forget again？"

Wife? The word jolted me awake, instantly clearing the mental fog.

My thoughts involuntarily drifted back four years to that gloomy afternoon at our family's Long Island estate.

Grandfather lay in his hospital bed, gaunt and frail, yet his eyes still sparkled with hope.

"Caspar, my biggest regret is not seeing you settled down and married..." Grandfather had said with great difficulty, each word seeming to drain what little strength he had left.

I am firmly against marriage, and my grandfather has always disapproved of this stance.

To fulfill his dying wish, I'd reluctantly agreed.

Grandmother Dorothy, caught between a rock and a hard place. And she finally came up with an ingenious solution.

To protect my identity, she used my little-known maternal surname 'Samuel West' to arrange a marriage alliance with the Bailey family, who were going through a financial crisis at the time.

According to Dorothy, she'd done her research—the Baileys had only one biological daughter who was both virtuous and beautiful. She'd left me some room for regret, though I didn't think it necessary.

This way, the Bailey family will not know my identity.

I would not be disturbed, and the Bailey family also received adequate funding and resources. This was a fair exchange.

I'd peacefully coasted through several years like this, but recently Grandmother had started pushing me to meet this wife I'd never seen.

I knew it was because of Noah's presence in my life now, and he needed a mother.

"I'll make arrangements, Grandmother." I answered curtly, hoping to end this unpleasant conversation.

"Don't drag your feet anymore, Caspar. The contract period is almost up—you should at least meet her once." Dorothy's tone brooked no argument.

"I'll handle it."

I ended the call, rubbing my temples as I recalled last night's hotel situation.

The aftereffects of my previous poisoning had suddenly flared up, forcing me to switch to a quiet suite for some rest.

After taking my specialized medication, my consciousness had become hazy, leaving me in a half-awake, half-dreaming state.

I closed my eyes, once again recalling that crazy night from five years ago, that girl whose face I could never quite make out but who drove my body absolutely wild.

Strangely enough, last night's dream had felt more real than any before, as if she'd been right there beside me, within reach.

I could almost feel her fingers tracing paths across my skin, the whisper of her breath against my neck.

Unbidden images flooded my mind—tangled limbs, shared breaths, and the intoxicating sensation of two bodies moving as one.

I shook my head sharply, trying to dispel the vivid memories.

Perhaps I'd simply gone too long without physical release, and my mind was playing tricks on me.

But the next moment, as my peripheral vision caught what lay on the nightstand, I froze.

The note. The money. I'm sure there was none last night.

I was fully awake now, picking up the note that read "Here's your tip. Sorry, I only have this much on me" in elegant handwriting dripping with sarcasm.

Next to it lay a crisp hundred-dollar bill.

This wasn't a dream. The realization hit me like a freight train—someone had actually entered my room last night.

My expression darkened instantly, a cold gleam flashing in my eyes.

I grabbed my phone and dialed my personal assistant James, then coldly commanded.

"Investigate the woman who entered my room last night. I want answers, now."

Less than five minutes later, James called back to inform me that the hotel's surveillance system had been under maintenance for the past couple of days, and the hotel staff couldn't provide any useful information.

I stared at the note and cash on the nightstand, a cold smirk forming on my lips.

This was far too convenient to be a coincidence.

Such a deliberate humiliation wouldn't go unanswered—I'd find this woman and ensure she paid dearly for her little stunt.

''Sir, will you still be attending the afternoon meeting?"James inquired carefully.

"Continue as scheduled," I replied coolly. "Be downstairs to pick me up in ten minutes."

Sitting in the luxury sedan heading to my business meeting, I calmly processed emails, trying to push last night's pictures out of my mind.

Suddenly, my phone rang—my butler Edward's name flashing on the screen.

"Mr. Thornton," Edward's voice came through, tense and breathless."Noah is missing. We can't find him anywhere."

My blood ran cold. "Missing? Since when?"

"He went to his regular class at the gallery this morning, sir," Edward explained, his voice tight with worry.

"During the break period, the staff noticed he wasn't here. They've searched the entire building. He simply... vanished during the fifteen-minute break.'

As Edward explained the situation, my composure shattered. I immediately turned to James.

"Cancel everything. Book us on the earliest flight back to New York. Now."