?Chapter 1105:


    Would her father harm him? Panic spiraled through her mind as she imagined dark oues.


    If something tragic befell Averi—the heir of the Wall family—then the unborn life inside her, believed to be Noah’s, would stand as his sole descendant. And if the real story stayed buried, the world would ept her as the rightful matriarch of the Wall family.


    The powerful family, desperate to preserve their name, would have no alternatives. Her child would be their heir. A slow, venomous grin crept across her face.


    Forest saw the shift—and returned the expression, just as ruthless.


    Meanwhile, ine and Sadie cruised down a quiet road leading to a secluded nursing home on the city’s edge.


    In ine’s grip was a falsified note—crafted earlier. He had mirrored his grandfather’s penmanship with uncanny uracy.


    “She’s in Room 102. Be alert. I’ll wait in the car—if something goes wrong, I’ll step in.”


    He was ready to intervene if things spiraled.


    Sadie epted the note with a nod. “Appreciate it, ine.” She tightened her coat around her and stepped out.


    Near the doorway, a watchful guard monitoredings and goings.


    Steeling herself, Sadie approached, her expression calm and deliberate.


    “Hello. I represent Mr. Ralph Castro. I’m here to see Sharon Buckley. This messagees directly from him—handwritten.”


    Sadie handed over the note.


    The security guard took it with suspicion clouding his face, his eyes scanning every inch as he checked it more than once.


    His fingers ran across its smooth texture, noting the refined design and the unmistakable seal of the Castro family. Everything appeared to be in order. After a few more seconds of scrutiny, he finally stepped aside and pulled the gate open.


    “You may go in, ma’am.”


    Sadie released a breath she had been holding and moved quickly through the gate toward the main building.


    The inside of the nursing home was even quieter than she had expected. Empty halls stretched before her, broken only by the asional nurse pushing a medical cart in a rush.


    Guided by the room number ine had given her, she walked with cautious steps, scanning the doors as she passed.


    At the far end of the second-floor hallway, she came to a stop in front of Room 102.


    She paused for a moment, steadying her breath before raising her hand to knock gently on the door.


    “Sharon? Sharon, are you inside?” she called softly.


    Silence greeted her. Not a sound came from the room.


    A strange chill crept down her spine, making her hesitate.


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