The car came to a slow stop in front of a quiet hotel at the edge of the city.Karvel stepped out first. He stood still for a moment and looked around. The place was clean, not too busy, and far from the abandoned house they had just left. Morrison followed behind him and closed the car door.The cold air brushed against Karvel’s face, but his mind was far from calm.They went inside the hotel lobby and checked in quickly. Within minutes, they were inside a private room on the third floor. The curtains were half open, letting in soft daylight. The city looked peaceful from here, but Karvel knew better.He removed his jacket and dropped it on the chair. Morrison did the same, though his face showed clear worry, if not that they had something to do together tonight, they would have booked two room.Karvel walked to the window and crossed his arms.“We need to know who used to come there every day,” Karvel said at last, his voice low but firm. “Someone didn’t just disappear without leavi

Morrison leaned closer to the computer screen, his eyes sharp and unblinking. The light from the monitor reflected off his glasses as lines of data scrolled slowly past. The room around him was quiet—too quiet. The only sounds were the soft hum of the computer system and the faint tapping of his fingers against the desk.The office smelled of old files and cold coffee. It was a place where secrets lived. Where truth was never simple.Several folders were open on the screen.Pictures.Reports.Video clips.All collected over many weeks.Morrison stopped scrolling and leaned back slightly. He let out a slow breath, the kind that came when a man knew he had reached the heart of something dangerous.“Just look at this,” Morrison said at last, breaking the silence.His voice was low, steady, and heavy with certainty.“This woman,” he continued, tapping the screen with his finger, “she’s behind everything that has been happening.”Karvel stood a few steps away with his arms crossed over his

“What's going on here?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she reached the bottom of the stairs.Margret, standing near the grand entrance, didn’t even look at her. Her sharp eyes were fixed somewhere far away, as if she were ready to strike at anyone who dared question her.“You can ask this poor thing you call your husband,” Margret snapped without turning. Her voice was sharp, slicing through the tension in the room.Elena’s brow furrowed, confused. “What do you mean?” she asked, glancing nervously at Karvel, who was standing a few steps behind Margret.“The last time I checked, I was the one feeding myself,” Karvel said, his tone calm but pointed. He didn’t move closer; he didn’t need to. His presence alone carried weight.Margret hissed, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “Elena, I won’t repeat myself. I am only giving you seven days. Seven days to fix everything, or else,” she warned, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. Without waiting for a response, sh

Karvel packed the last bag into the car and shut the trunk with a heavy sound. When the car stopped in front of the house, Karvel stepped out first. Elena followed him, her movements slow, her body tired in a way sleep could not fix. She looked at the house like she was walking into a storm she already expected.They walked inside together.Before either of them could say a word, Florida clapped her hands loudly. The sharp sound filled the room.“Oh, finally,” Florida said with a fake smile. “I have been sitting here waiting for you to come back. So this is what you do now, Karvel? You follow this useless woman around and leave me—your wife—at home all alone?”Elena stopped walking.Karvel’s eyes darkened. He stepped forward, his voice calm but firm.“Florida,” he said, “we both stayed at home before. And you also work in my company. You have more opportunities than Elena ever had. Can’t you see that?”Florida scoffed and crossed her arms.“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she sna

Morrison tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he followed the black car through the winding streets. The city lights flickered across the windshield, reflecting off his sharp eyes. He adjusted his speed carefully. When the car in front sped up, he accelerated slightly. When it slowed down, he eased his foot off the pedal. He maintained a careful distance—close enough to follow, but far enough to stay unnoticed. Morrison’s mind was sharp, alert, and ready. Every turn, every traffic light, every passing pedestrian mattered. He knew he couldn’t afford even the slightest mistake.The driver ahead seemed to know the roads well, taking narrow alleys and hidden side streets. Morrison followed, mentally mapping every turn. He was cautious. He couldn’t risk being spotted. Not yet. Not until he had the full picture.After nearly half an hour of silent pursuit, the car finally stopped in a quiet, secluded area on the outskirts of the city. Morrison parked his vehicle a good distance away,