Chapter 3

Wallace sounded urgent. "I know you don't want to deal with this because of your wife's affair, but the others are innocent. I just checked, and we're not finished yet.

"The cryobank is divided into five storage rooms. Four of them were already beyond saving, but the last room, which held Mr. Quinlan's sperm, hadn't yet reached the critical temperature. Please, Theo, help us out!"

I didn't want anyone else to suffer because of this either, so I nodded. "But I have two conditions. First, transfer my dad to another hospital. Second, send all the footage from last night until now to Mr. Quinlan."

My eyes were ice-cold. They wanted me to take the fall? Fine. I would expose everything.

"Not a problem!" Wallace said without hesitation. He pulled out his phone and, right before me, carried out both of my demands.

I took out my laptop and connected it to the central console with a data cable. My fingers flew across the keyboard, leaving only afterimages.

With the antivirus program I had written myself, it took less than five minutes to wipe out every invading virus and Trojan. The tampered commands were restored.

Immediately, I issued the cooling order—liquid nitrogen condensed, and the temperature in the final storage room plummeted. Harry's sample was saved.

My brain had been running at full speed. A wave of exhaustion hit me. I pinched the bridge of my nose, but the next second, my whole body was slammed hard to the ground.

I screamed out loud. In the chaos, my joints were dislocated one by one. My limbs went limp, useless, as I collapsed on the hard floor.

Cold sweat covered my face. Through blurred vision, I forced my eyes open and finally saw who had attacked me from behind. It was Maya. Meanwhile, Wallace was already unconscious nearby.

My voice trembled as I questioned, "Why?"

Maya roughly dragged me over and stuffed me into a large cabinet. Then, she gently wiped the sweat from my face with a handkerchief. Her eyes were soft, but her words were not.

"Did you hear? Mr. Quinlan will be here very soon," she said. "The other tycoons who got the news are coming as well. They want answers. Elijah is barely in his 20s. His life cannot be ruined like this!"

I clenched my jaw and roared, "He deserves it!"

She pressed hard against my injury and shook her head in disapproval as I let out the most gut-wrenching scream. "He's just young. He's inexperienced, just like you were back then."

She picked up the liability determination statement, grabbed my hand, and forced my fingerprint onto the paper. "You're his mentor. You're meant to take the blame for him."

Then, she leaned down and kissed me gently, speaking as if to herself. "I'll plead for you. And with your hacking skills, those tycoons won't kill you. You help Elijah this time, and I promise I won't abandon you in this life, no matter what you become."

My teeth ground together, rage surging in my chest.

"You think forcing my fingerprint means anything?" I snarled. "I built the entire system! The computers and surveillance all have records! Those tycoons aren't idiots—one look, and they'll know who the real culprit is!"

Unhurried, Maya stuffed a cleaning rag into my mouth. Her eyes gleamed with delight. "Thanks for the reminder. I'll destroy all that evidence, then. The virus is gone, so your system won't be needed anymore.

"And while I'm at it, I can even take credit for Elijah. This will definitely help his future."

She slowly closed the cabinet door. As it shut, the look she gave me carried the faintest trace of guilt.