Can’t Win Me Back by Ginger Sue

Chapter 2458

Justin's casual question hit Javier like a thunderclap.

Shock rippled through him, freezing his expression. His voice trembled with fear as he barked, "What nonsense is that? Are you accusing me of causing Chester's death? I'm your father-how could you think I'd do such a thing?" "It's not an accusation. Just the facts," Justin replied coolly, crossing his legs and savoring his tea with unsettling calm. "And I'm not condemning you. In fact, I understand why you did it. I'm facing the same dilemma now."

Javier's breathing grew ragged. He had watched Justin grow from a child into the man before him-now a predator, circling with quiet menace.

"You were meant to be the heir as the eldest son," Justin continued, his voice smooth as silk. "But Grandpa favored Uncle Chester, handing him major projects, grooming him in plain sight.

"Uncle Chester's reputation soon eclipsed yours. He was a natural leader, adept at business, with one fatal flaw- he was kind. Too kind. Unlike you."

back, his tone casual, as if recounting an old fable. "When Beckett Group's project collapsed and corruption rumors spread, Uncle Chester offered to take the fall. He went to prison to protect the family-to protect you, his beloved

painfully. This secret had been buried for 30 years, and now Justin laid it bare with ease. But how did he know? He was just a baby

softly. "He walked into your trap the moment he took the blame. His death wasn't an

baby, a fragile wife with a fractured mind. Losing us would've shattered your perfect image of a family. Chester was

violently, his composure unraveling.

wasn't denial but curiosity. He needed to know more about what Justin

was Javier's undoing, yet it

are no perfect crimes. Every sin leaves a trace. You never forgot Uncle Chester, did you? You remember bribing that prison medic, arranging for the injection that triggered his fatal heart attack. You remember the forged death certificate,

gaze darkened, slicing through Javier like a blade. "Dad, we're the same. We are the embodiment of ambition without

horror. His own son, his blood, now

sentimental. That kind of weakness has no place in business,