---- Chapter 15 In the back of his car, speeding towards the crisis at his company, Jackson felt a strange, chilling calm. The storm of rage had passed, leaving behind a desolate, icy landscape. Candida' s final, venomous words echoed in his mind. You' II never have children. His assistant, sitting in the passenger seat, silently handed him another file. It was the complete background check on Leo Camacho. It detailed a long history of corporate espionage, a man who made a living destroying companies from the inside. Candida hadn't just sought revenge; she had partnered with a professional saboteur. His company, his life's work, was just another job for them. Jackson looked at the photo of Leo, the smirking, handsome face of the man who had cuckolded him and fathered the child he thought was his own. He crumpled the paper in his fist, the calm cracking for a moment, revealing the raw fury beneath. The Parks Industries boardroom was in chaos. Shareholders were shouting, their faces red with anger and fear. The massive screens on the wall displayed a terrifying, vertical drop in the company' s stock price. Jackson strode into the room, and a hush fell. All eyes turned ---- to him. He was pale, with a fresh cut on his forehead from where Joey had thrown a paperweight, but his eyes were like chips of ice. "Everyone, sit down," he said, his voice quiet but carrying an authority that no one dared defy. For the next hour, he was a machine. He issued a string of precise, ruthless commands. He initiated a full-scale crisis management protocol, launched a cyber-forensics investigation, and froze the assets of a dozen shell corporations linked to Leo. He was brilliant, cold, and utterly in control. He was the corporate mogul they all feared and respected. But it was a hollow performance. As he worked to save his empire, his mind was elsewhere. It was in a hospital room, five years ago, with Elena. It was on a private jet, falling from the sky. His phone buzzed. It was the housekeeper. "Sir, Miss Camacho... she' s escaped custody. She' s back at the villa, smashing things." Jackson' s jaw tightened. He slammed his fist on the boardroom table, the sound echoing in the silent room. "Handle it," he snarled into the phone. "I don't care how. Just handle it." He drove back to the villa, a sense of dread coiling in his stomach. The place was a warzone. Smashed vases, torn ---- paintings, overturned furniture. And in the middle of it all was Candida, her hair wild, her eyes blazing with a mad fury. She saw him and shrieked, throwing a heavy crystal lamp at his head. He ducked, and it smashed against the wall behind him: "You won' t get away with this, Jackson!" she screamed. He just looked at her, his face a cold, unreadable mask. He had underestimated her. He had seen her as a vengeful woman, not the unhinged, destructive force she had become. He had his bodyguards restrain her, her screams and curses filling the air. He was about to have her taken away, to lock her in a secure facility where she could do no more harm, when he made the decision. He needed proof. He needed to know for sure. He called his private doctor. "I need a DNA test," he said, his voice flat. "For my son. And | need a full physical for myself Check for any long-term poisons or sterilization agents." The results came back the next day. Joey was not his son. And he, Jackson Parks, was sterile. The drugs Candida had been feeding him for years had done their work. The damage was irreversible. He stood in the ruins of his living room, the two reports in his ---- hand, and he felt nothing. Just a vast, hollow emptiness. He had lost everything. His wife, his child, his future. All of it, a casualty of a war he hadn't even known he was fighting. It was in that moment of absolute despair that his assistant called. "Sir," he said, his voice trembling with an excitement he couldn' t contain. "We found something. About the plane crash. There' s a discrepancy in the flight records. A last- minute passenger swap. The woman who died on that plane .. it wasn't Elena." Jackson' s world, which had been black and white, suddenly exploded into color. She was alive. Elena was alive. A ferocious, desperate hope surged through him, so powerful it almost brought him to his knees. "Find her," he choked out, his voice thick with an emotion he thought he had lost forever. "I don' t care what it costs. Find her.' He stumbled towards the door, his mind racing. He had to go to her. He had to find her and beg for her forgiveness. He took one step, and a dizzying wave of vertigo washed over him. The world tilted violently. The last thing he saw before ---- the darkness swallowed him was the shattered frame of his wedding photo on the floor, his smiling face a mocking ghost from a life he had utterly destroyed. 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