Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 1874

Unfortunately, rumors had spread that Helen had died seven years ago, a loss that had become one of the man's greatest regrets.

"Well done," Aiden said, giving the man a pat on the shoulder. "Once my plan succeeds, there'll be a bonus for you."

The man turned his head, his cold gaze locking onto Aiden's hand on his shoulder.

In addition to being a skilled hacker, the man was an avid gambler, and the one thing he absolutely hated was being patted on the shoulder.

Sensing the change in mood, Aiden quickly pulled his hand back.

The man slowly turned his head, returning to his task without a word. He worked for Aiden, but it wasn't for the money—it was simply a way to pass the time in his retirement. Because of that, he didn't feel any genuine threat from Aiden.

"With you in charge, I can relax. Keep an eye on things. I've got other matters to take care of."

With that, Aiden turned and walked out.

As his footsteps faded, the man's computer was suddenly hacked, and bold green text flashed across the screen. "Do you dare to compete?"

The direct challenge immediately grabbed the man's attention. "Well, well, looks like I underestimated you. I didn't think you'd be able to track me down here."

For a person to be capable of bypassing his firewall was genuinely impressive. The gauntlet had been thrown, and there was no way he was backing down now.

The man straightened up instantly, his focus sharpening. "Bring it on."

He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, his excitement building as adrenaline coursed through him.

On the other side, Helen responded nonchalantly, "Pick a time."

Meanwhile, the man was like an impatient fisherman waiting for his catch. In the end, he reluctantly adjusted his terms. "How about 11:00 am?"

"Okay," Helen replied swiftly, logging off with a single click.

She then turned toward the door and called out, "Lincoln! Linc! Come here for a minute."

With Lincoln and Chandler around, life had become easier for Helen. Everything was taken care of for her, and she had become a bit spoiled, frequently relying on them for whatever she needed.

In less than half a minute, Lincoln walked in. With his hands tucked into his pockets, he radiated a cool, aloof air—an exact replica of Chandler.

Helen thought he could have been faster, but it was obvious he was more interested in perfecting his "cool" demeanor than in being efficient.

Nevertheless, she went along with it and offered a flattering compliment. "Linc, you're so handsome!"