Chapter 438 A Mole
Melanie nodded faintly at Max’s question, but her unease only grew when his gaze shifted away from her. His eyes locked on Adam.
“Adam,” Max said, his tone quieter than usual, almost reluctant. “If you have a few minutes… can we talk?”
Adam narrowed his eyes slightly, reading the strain in his voice. “Is it urgent?” he asked, slow and deliberate.
It was the first time Adam had seen Max look uneasy. The man was usually sharp, confident, never wavering. That flicker of discomfort on his face made Adam’s stomach tighten. Something was wrong.
Even so, Adam nodded, exchanging a glance with Melanie before rising. She gave the faintest nod of encouragement, though her fingers clung to his shirt for just a second longer than usual.
With a sigh, Max gestured toward the door and stepped out. Adam followed, his eyes narrowing further with every step. There was something odd in the way Max moved through the halls. His strides were steady, purposeful—not the hesitant steps of a guest, but the sure footing of someone who already knew the house.
Adam’s suspicion deepened. How could Max know the layout of Pierce Villa so well? And why?
They turned a corner, passed through a quiet corridor, and entered a room that smelled faintly of cedar and ink. A study. Heavy curtains blocked the moonlight, and dark shelves lined the walls with neat rows of books.
Max shut the door softly behind them, his shoulders tight. Check latest chapters at find•novel.net
Adam’s eyes narrowed, his instincts on full alert now. His voice was low, edged with demand. “You know Mrs. Emma Pierce well.”
Adam watched as Max winced and then narrowed his eyes even as his hands clenched and a bad feeling came over his stomach. He didn’t like it…
Max, for his part, looked just as uneasy. He tried to force a grin—the usual cocky curve of his mouth that never quite reached his eyes—but this time it faltered, hanging there awkwardly.
“Remember how I always told you,” Max began slowly, almost testing the words, “that someday you would call me uncle…?”
Adam froze. His body went rigid, his stare locking onto Max in disbelief. The silence stretched between them, heavy enough to suffocate.
Max didn’t flinch under it. He stared right back, shoulders tense, waiting.
Finally, Adam broke the silence, his voice low and edged with unease. “Are you telling me you’re her husband or something? Like my stepfather?”
Max winced at the accusation, dragging a hand over his face before cursing under his breath. “Dammit, Adam! I’m only a few years older than you. What the hell do you take me for?”
Adam shrugged, though the gesture was stiff, forced. His words came out sharp, almost biting. “You’re a manwhore. Who the hell knows what you’d do?”
Max grimaced at that, the insult hitting with too much truth to deny. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, waving a hand as though batting away the obvious. “I know that. I’ve earned the title, no doubt. But I really draw the line at marrying my own sister.”
Adam blinked. The words barely registered at first, his mind stumbling over them as though he hadn’t heard right. Slowly, his expression hardened. “What did you just say?”
Max exhaled through his nose, a grimace pulling at his mouth. He looked Adam dead in the eye, as though there was no escaping it now. “Emma Pierce,” he said flatly. “She’s my older sister. I… we became friends because she asked me to. Because she wanted it that way. She was worried about you.”
Before either man could speak, Adam suddenly turned on his heel and started toward the door. His steps were sharp, decisive, every movement radiating the fury he was holding back.
Max grimaced. He had braced himself for Adam to swing a fist, to take the blow head-on and let it end there. But this—this silence, this cold retreat—was worse.
“Adam, wait.”
Adam paused mid-step. He turned slowly, his eyes glinting with restrained violence. His voice, when it came, was biting enough to cut through the air. “Max. If you don’t want to be beaten to a pulp, I suggest you don’t appear in front of me again.”
Max flinched at the venom in his tone but pressed forward anyway. “Adam. At least listen to my explanation-“
“Explanation?” Adam barked out a humorless laugh, sharp and bitter. “What explanation could possibly make this better? That all these years, you’ve been a spy planted at my side? Dammit, Max-” his voice cracked with rage before hardening again, “-ask yourself how you’d feel if the person you trusted like a brother turned out to be feeding information the very person you hate.”
His hands were fists now, trembling at his sides, and the air between them grew heavier with every word. “The only reason you’re still standing is because I seem to owe you too many favors. And I don’t forget my debts. I’ll find a way to return every single one of them…”
His voice had grown colder by the minute, every syllable like ice, until even the walls of the study seemed to shrink back from it.
Max’s heart sank at the finality in his words. This-this wall of fury and betrayal-was exactly what he had feared. And now it was here, staring him down in Adam’s eyes.
“Adam. Don’t. Just listen, okay? And then, if you want to beat me to a pulp, I’ll willingly accept it.”
He breathed a sigh of relief as Adam paused and hurriedly continued,” While I came to your side on Emma’s request, I have never passed on any information about you to her. Nor have I violated your trust in any way. The only reason I never told you this truth was I didn’t know how to put it. Initially, it was just supposed to be a looking over job, making sure you were okay. Later, we became friends and even later still, I realized that you hate Emma.. By then, I didn’t know how to tell you…”