Chapter Fifteen: Investigate

As the door creaked open, Emily stepped into the comforting embrace of her home. The lingering echoes of a busy workday still resonated within her, but the promise of a warm welcome awaited within the confines of familiar walls.

The aromatic symphony of a home-cooked dinner wafted through the air, a testament to Ares' efforts in orchestrating a tranquil evening.

Ares, perched on a stool in the kitchen, greeted his mother with a warm smile that belied the complexities hidden beneath the surface.

His youthful features radiated innocence, a façade carefully maintained to shield Emily from the shadows that lurked within his clandestine world.

"Welcome home, Mom," Ares exclaimed, his voice tinged with a genuine warmth that mirrored the coziness of their home. He then noticed something different about her mom. She seem worried and sad.

Emily, her fatigue and problems were momentarily forgotten, reciprocated the smile with maternal affection. The aroma of the dinner that awaited her heightened the sense of anticipation—a shared moment of familial bliss.

"Ares, you didn't have to go through all this trouble. How was your day, sweetheart?" Emily inquired, her gaze filled with maternal adoration.

Ares, deflecting the complexities that occupied his mind, responded with a measured enthusiasm. "It was good, Mom. I wanted to make your favourite food."

As Emily glanced around the cozy kitchen, the table adorned with delicacies, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for her thoughtful son.

"You truly are a blessing, Ares," Emily expressed, her words a melodic affirmation of the love that bound them.

Ares, the obedient son, guided Emily to the living room. "Mom, why don't you change into something comfortable and take a warm bath before dinner? I've got everything under control here."

Emily, touched by the consideration in her son's words, nodded with a grateful smile. As she retreated to her room, Ares seized the opportunity to execute a clandestine operation that unfolded in the shadows of their seemingly idyllic home.

With a calculated nonchalance, Ares retrieved his phone, fingers dancing across the screen as he dialed a discreet number. The call connected, and in hushed tones, he issued a directive that betrayed the innocence of his outward demeanor.

"I need detailed reports on my mother's daily work life. Every meeting, every interaction. I want to know everything," Ares instructed, his voice devoid of emotion—a stark contrast to the familial warmth that had characterized their earlier interaction.

On the other end of the line, an unseen figure acknowledged the command, affirming their commitment to the task. The call ended, leaving Ares to resume his facade of familial normalcy.

As Emily luxuriated in the warmth of the bath, a sense of tranquility enveloped her—a respite from the demands of the outside world. Unbeknownst to her, the intricate details of whatever happen to her today was documented and sent to her son email.

The evening continued, the dinner table a tableau of familial bliss. Emily, dressed in comfortable attire, joined Ares in savoring the culinary delights he had prepared. The warmth of the home-cooked meal, however, masked the subtle undercurrents that pervaded the air.

As the meal progressed, Ares skillfully navigated the conversation, deflecting inquiries about his day while extracting information about Emily's professional life. His inquiries, disguised within the folds of casual conversation, sought to unravel the intricacies of her daily routine.

"Mom, tell me about your day today. Is there anything interesting?" Ares inquired, his gaze an innocuous façade that concealed the probing nature of his intent.

Emily, oblivious to the ulterior motives that lay beneath the surface, recounted the highlights of her day. Ares, with a feigned interest that mirrored the innocence of youth, absorbed the information.

The dinner concluded, the remnants of a shared meal left in the wake of familial togetherness. Emily, content in the glow of maternal warmth, retired to her room.

Once alone, Ares returned to the private study. The reports on Emily's daily work life began to trickle in, the fully detailed report was sent by one of his subordinates who act as his mom shadow guard.

The night unfolded in silence. Ares, his youthful features masked by the glow of the computer screen, contemplated the reports that illuminated the shadows within their seemingly tranquil home.

"Is it because of this man again?" He reread the report again and look at the photo attached.

The dim glow of the study's computer screens cast a muted luminescence as Ares, hidden in the labyrinth of codes, executed a digital symphony that disrupted the delicate balance of Alexander Stone's company. Project documents flickered across the screens, their integrity compromised by the clandestine maneuvers of the ten-year-old prodigy.

As Ares, veiled in the shadows of his digital prowess, left the digital battleground without a trace, the echoes of his intrusion reverberated through the virtual corridors.

Alexander Stone, the one he believed is his biological father is the unsuspecting target of this cybernetic disruption, would soon grapple with the aftermath of this unknown son's covert operation.

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched across the living room of the Stone residence. Alex, weary from a late night at the office, stepped through the front door.

Veronica, adorned in a nightgown that exuded a delicate allure, awaited him in the dimly lit living room. The soft rustle of her gown echoed in the stillness—a prelude to a night that, unbeknownst to Alexander, bore the subtle tension of unspoken expectations.

"Welcome home, Alexander," Veronica purred, her voice a melodic invitation that beckoned him into the realm of domestic warmth.

Alexander, however, remained ensconced in the complexities of his thoughts. The annoyance lingering from the cyber intrusion at the company gripped his demeanor, overshadowing the potential for familial bliss that awaited within the walls of his home.

"What's for dinner?" Alexander inquired, his tone a reflection of the residual frustration that clung to him.

Veronica, undeterred by the veneer of detachment, gestured toward the dining area where a meticulously set table awaited them. "I thought we could have a quiet dinner together," she suggested, her eyes expressing a longing.

As they sat down to dinner, the atmosphere carried the weight of unspoken tensions. Veronica, her gaze flickering with a delicate vulnerability, sought a bridge across the emotional chasm that divided them.

Yet, Alexander, absorbed in the residue of professional frustrations, remained a stoic figure at the dining table.

The silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery against plates.

After dinner, Alexander retreated to the study— where the glow of computer screens held a different allure. The intrusion at the company demanded his attention, and with a furrowed brow, he delved into the arduous task of rectifying the digital chaos wrought by an unseen assailant.

Veronica, left alone in the living room, traced the contours of her thoughts.

Hours passed, the rhythmic tap of keyboard keys reverberating through the study as Alexander navigated the complexities of cyber remediation. The intrusion, veiled in the shadows of digital anonymity, continued to resist his efforts to restore order.

When Alex finally emerged from the study, the late hour draped the living room in a muted ambiance. Veronica, perched on the couch, awaited him with a gaze that held an affection.

"Is everything okay at work?" Veronica inquired, her voice a delicate murmur that echoed the concern etched on her features.

Alexander, his demeanor a fusion of fatigue and frustration, replied with a curt nod. "Just some technical glitches. Nothing to worry about."

Veronica, yearning for a moment of emotional intimacy, mustered the courage to broach the subject that had cast a subtle shadow over their shared space.

"Alex, it feels like we've been drifting apart," Veronica confessed, her vulnerability laid bare in the gentle cadence of her words.

Alexander, still absorbed in the aftermath of the cyber intrusion, met her gaze with a fleeting acknowledgment.

"Where's Aiden?" Alexander inquired, his voice have a hint of affection and concern.

Veronica, clad in a nightgown that now seemed to envelop her with an air of melancholy, replied, "He's already in bed. I thought we could spend some time together tonight."

Alexander, seemingly oblivious to the emotional undercurrents that permeated the night, casually dismissed the suggestion. "I'm tired, Veronica. Maybe another time."

As he retreated to their bedroom, leaving Veronica alone in the living room, the echoes of unspoken words lingered in the air.

In the quiet recesses of the night, as Alexander lay in bed, the digital symphony orchestrated by an unknown enemy continued to resonate in the corridors of his thoughts.

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