Don Smith dismissed everyone else from the ward. “Mark Tremont came to see me last night.”
Alejandro tensed on the bed. “So?”
Don Smith stared fixedly at him. “You’re one of the Tremonts, aren’t you? But Mark Tremont won’t let you live. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have ended up in Nafaeth with the real Alejandro, then assumed his identity.”
“What are you trying to imply?” Alejandro replied in a non-committal manner. “I have no intention of hiding my past. However, I see no need to mention it. The Tremonts and I have nothing to do with each other.”
The old man clicked his tongue. “Are you that unfeeling? After everything that Mark has done to you, you’ve never considered taking everything that belongs to you? When the time comes, both the Tremonts and Smiths will be yours. Don’t you have any ambition?”
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