Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 84: The Other Walton

"We’ve got something," one of the analysts called out from the back.

Gray didn’t even need to say anything. He just turned.

The tech’s fingers danced over his keyboard, a reflection blown up across his screen—small, almost imperceptible, but enhanced and filtered enough to pull a match.

"Ninety-three percent confidence," the tech muttered. "We ran it against archived security footage, internal access logs—"

Gray’s voice was clipped. "Who is it?"

A beat. Then the answer.

"Caden Walton."

Everything in me went still.

I stared at the screen like it might burn a hole through my skull.

Cameron cursed under his breath. "Your—"

"My stepbrother," I finished for him.

Cameron muttered something under his breath, but I didn’t hear it. Couldn’t. My ears were ringing. Not with shock—I’d suspected. Not with rage—not yet. Just a hard, calculated silence stretching across the space between memory and reality.

Caden.

Of course it was him.

Before I could say a word, before I could even move, my phone buzzed.

Incoming call: Caden Walton.

I answered it.

"Hello, brother," came the annoyingly smooth, pleased and cruel voice on the other end. "Do you like my gift?"

There it was.

The bait.

I leaned back, jaw set, staring at the monitors still glowing with Isabella’s blurred image and the media’s bloodthirsty headlines.

"Caden."

A soft laugh. "Oh good, you still remember my name. I was worried you’d erased all traces of me like you do everything else you can’t control."

"What do you want?"

"Ah, come on. Don’t be so cold. You’re not even curious why I did it?"

"hmm.. showing off?" I said quietly. "Guess it was only a matter of time before you moved from party tricks to character assassination."

"Oh, come now," Caden replied, tone mock-wounded. "Assassination is such a strong word. I prefer... exposure. A little family cleansing. You know, take the filth out of the picture before it ruins everything. You’re welcome."

"Filth," I repeated, the word rolling on my tongue, tasting like ash. I kept my voice steady, low, letting the sheer absurdity of the statement hang in the air. "You consider me the filth?"

"Well, aren’t you?" Caden’s voice sharpened, losing some of its playful edge. "Living your little privileged life on the back of Dad’s legacy, playing the untouchable CEO while you dirty yourself with... with her."

Gray and Cameron were watching me, their expressions grim. Gray looked ready to pounce. Cameron just looked calculating, his gaze fixed on my face, trying to read my next move. The analysts in the background were silent, holding their breath.

"You always did have a thing for theatrics."

He laughed—light, mocking. "Well, you know me. I love a good performance. But this one? This was personal. After what happened with your last girlfriend, I thought you’d learn. But no—you just had to go get yourself another one."

My jaw tightened.

"So I figured..." he continued, almost gleeful, "why not give her the proper welcome? Family style."

"You think this is a game, Caden?" I kept my voice low, dangerously calm. Gray took a step closer, his hand hovering near the keyboard, ready to trace the call if I gave the word. Cameron’s eyes narrowed, tracking the subtle shifts in my expression.

Caden chuckled again, a sound that grated on my nerves. "Oh, it’s absolutely a game. The best kind. One where I finally get to level the playing field."

He continued. "You always were the golden boy, Adrien. You’ve always had everything. The name. The money. The company, perfect little life. I just thought the world deserved to see what happens when golden boys fall."

"And what makes you think I’m falling, Caden?" My voice was still low, deceptively calm, a rope hiding steel spikes.

"Because a few internet trolls are having a field day? Because a handful of vultures smell blood? You think this is the blow that brings down everything I’ve built?"

Caden’s laugh lost its light quality, becoming harsh. "Oh, it’s just the beginning, brother."

I said nothing. Just stared at the screens—at the damage he’d tried to do. This is so childish.

"You done?" I asked.

"For now," he said, proudly again. "But the real question is... are you?"

Caden sighed dramatically. "Anyway. Gotta go. Just wanted to say hi. Oh, and tell your girlfriend..."

His voice dropped lower.

"...She photographs beautifully."

The line went dead.

I hung up the call and crushed the phone against my palm, the plastic giving a low groan of protest. The cold calm I’d held onto shattered, replaced by a white-hot surge that felt like melted lead coursing through my veins.

The silence in the room wasn’t just the absence of Caden’s voice; it was heavy, watchful.

Gray and Cameron hadn’t moved. The analysts were frozen, eyes wide, staring at me. freёnovelkiss.com

I slammed the phone onto the console, hard.

"Find him," I barked, my voice rough, stripped of its earlier control.

Gray was already moving, long fingers flying over the keyboard,

"I want everything on Caden. Every transaction, every contact, every communication for the last five years. Personal, business, everything. Find out what he’s connected to, who he’s working with, what move he’s planning. And find out where he is now."

"On it," Gray said, already gesturing to his team. The frozen analysts sprang back to life, fingers flying over keyboards. The room hummed with renewed purpose, a predatory efficiency replacing the initial shock.

"And Gray," I added, just as he was turning away, "when you find him... don’t let him know we know how we found him. I want him overconfident. Let him think he’s untouchable for a little while longer."

I didn’t wait for confirmation. I spun on my heel, pacing away from the console, running a hand roughly through my hair. The cold calm was gone, replaced by a visceral need to act.

The air in the room crackled. The analysts, encouraged by Gray’s sharp commands and a low murmur of focused intensity, were a whirlwind of motion. Keyboards clattered, screens refreshed with rapid data streams.

They were pulling everything. Every byte of digital dust Caden had left behind.

A voice cut through the room.

"We’ve wiped it," a female tech said from the far end. Her voice was steady, confident. "Every article, every post, every photo. Traced, flagged, and scrubbed. It’s gone from every major server, cloud cache, and mirrored drive. Even the backups. It’s like it never happened."

Gray gave a short nod of approval. Cameron exhaled quietly.

"Good,"

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