?Chapter 864:


    “Collin! Look what I found!” he yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.


    Collin flinched at the sudden interruption. His expression darkened in annoyance. He opened his mouth to scold Dustin but stopped cold at the sound of the boy’s angry cry.


    “Bad person! You’re bad too! Put me down!”


    Collin looked up, startled.


    A small child—four or five at most—was draped over Dustin’s shoulder, squirming furiously. His frown deepened. “Dustin, are you out of your mind?”


    “Just look,” Dustin said, turning the boy so Collin could see his face.


    For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Two faces hung in the air—one older and sharp, the other younger and soft. Yet the resemnce was undeniable.


    Collin’s breath caught. His eyes locked on the boy’s face. A strange tightness curled in his chest.


    He couldn’t say a word.


    Zander red at them both, tiny fists clenched. “Bad people! You’re both bad! You nned this together!”


    He began to thrash again, face red and flustered. “Let me down right now!”


    Seeing the boy’s distress, Collin rose to his feet. His conflicted gaze lingered on him. “Dustin, put him down.”


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    “I’m not letting him run off again. He’s slipped away from me twice already,” Dustin said firmly.


    Then he leaned in slightly, his voice low with victory. “Now, do you believe me, Collin? Look at him. He’s the spitting image of you!”


    Zander scrunched his face in disgust. “I do not look like that bad man! You’re all big bullies! I’m calling the police!”


    Dustin kept his cool, steering the moment with ease. “Kid, do you even know who you’re talking to? This man is the founder of CR Corporation—the richest man in the entire country. If the police everid a hand on him, half of Grester’s economy would crash overnight.”


    He sighed, muttering under his breath, “Why am I even exining this to a toddler?”


    Zander’s cheeks puffed up with anger. “I’m not a toddler! Stop talking to me like I’m some baby!”


    Collin’s eyes narrowed. Something unreadable flickered behind them. He walked toward the boy. His gaze was sharp, focused. “Then tell me—how old are you?” His voice was calm but firm.


    Dustin perked up, curious now. He leaned in a little, waiting for Zander’s answer.


    Judging the boy’s age by appearance alone was no easy task.


    Zander didn’t budge. His mind was full of memories—painful ones—of how this “bad man” had treated his mom.


    He had no intention of ying along.


    Instead, he crossed his arms and turned his head sharply to the side, letting out a cold sneer in defiance.


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