Chapter 963

**The dead of night.** Judson stepped quietly into Jane’s room. The delicate princess bed cradled the sleeping girl, her eyes shut tight—yet her tiny brows were faintly furrowed, her sleep uneasy. He watched her for a long moment. Then, the tender mask slipped from his face like a dropped curtain. Cold calculation returned to his features. He turned without a sound, exiting the room. By the time he reached the car waiting outside the villa, he was fully Judson again—hard-eyed, poised, unflinching. The vehicle sped toward the research institute, where Jackson was already waiting. Jackson didn’t look up when the door opened. "How is she?" No clarification needed—Judson knew exactly who he meant. "For the first two days, she was distant. Obedient, but cautious—like she didn’t fully buy the identity we gave her. But after the funeral, things shifted. She trusts me more now. Today, when the lawyer came to reclaim the house, she clung to me. She even asked what we should do next." Jackson no