After a moment, Don Smith put down the folder and looked at Mark without batting a n eyelid. “Mr. Tremont, What’s the meaning of this? I don’t know this man. Who is he to you?”
Mark casually tapped on the table with his long fingernail, but his eyes flashed a hint of coldness. His thin lips raised as he spoke. “My father’s bastard.”
Don Smith’s heart throbbed in pain as he got slightly agitated, but he retained a straight face and ignored the pain to not prevent any slip ups. “So, this Ethan Connor... He’s your family? Never would I expect that the Tremonts would have a bastard in this area. You would probably know why he disappeared in South Africa, wouldn’t you? Are you... Suspecting that he’s alive and has returned here?”
Mark snorted emotionlessly. “I’ve recently learned that your grandson, Alejandro, was with Ethan at the same location and had an incident at the same time as well. I never knew that it was public knowledge that Alejandro was a cripple, but now, it seems like there have been rumors that his legs are just fine, he has even had plastic surgery done. Are you not not even a little suspicious that this Alejandro isn’t the old Alejandro?”
Beads of cold sweat started dripping from Don Smith’s forehead. He held onto his chest. “Alonso...! ALONSO!”
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