bChapter /bb231 /b

    MARCUS’S POV

    “How long are you going to keep the act up,missioner?” I asked, my tone calm but with enough edge to cut through the tension in the room. I leaned back in the chair

    “This is turning into a joke, Mr. Beaumont,” themissioner replied, his voice carrying that false authority that told me he was starting to feelered. “I have a lot of work to do. I’m sure you saw that when you walked in here.”

    llet a slow smirk creep across my lips. “I see. I knew Adrian paid you a lot to keep quiet, but I didn’t know he paid you this much. But I’ll have you know, any amount he paid… I can double it.” I crossed my arms deliberately, letting the words sink in.

    That caught his attention. His eyes flickered with something–surprise, greed, maybe even fear–and his posture shifted. He tried to hide it, but I’d yed this game far too many times to miss such a tell. “I see you’re interested,” I said softly, leaning forward just enough to make my

    point without breaking eye contact.

    I held out my hand, and Evelyn, who’d been standing silently, instantly understood. She reached into her bag and produced my cheque book and pen, moving quickly to my side. She ced them into my hand with the kind of efficiency I expected from her though she still hadn’t earned forgiveness for that earlier stunt of nearly sitting when I was sitting.

    “Now, tell me… how much did he pay you?” I asked, letting the pen rest lightly between my fingers.

    Themissioner bit his lower lip, a telltale sign of hesitation. He wanted to talk–I could see it in the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth but he was holding himself back. That was fine. I had already yed this scene out in my head on the drive here. He’d resist first, then I’d dangle the bait, and eventually, his greed would pull him in.

    Itore a piece of paper from the cheque book and slid it across the desk toward him, along with the pen. “Why don’t I show you how serious I am?” I said, my voice dropping into a deliberate, persuasive tone. “That’s an open cheque. I understand if you don’t want to talk outright— you already know how much Adrian paid you. So here’s what you do? just write double the amount on the cheque, and it’s yours.”

    That was it–the nail in the coffin. His eyes locked onto the cheque as though it were a lifeline, and I could almost hear the war in his head. We were all human, after all, and in this world, there’s one universal truth–money rules over everything.

    His hesitation cracked. Slowly, he picked up the pen. I sat back, watching as he scribbled in the amount, his hand slightly trembling. When he

    slid the cheque back to me, I took my time picking it up.

    I studied the figure for a moment, my eyebrows lifting. “Is this it?” I asked, feigning disappointment. “I thought it was going to be something more challenging. I guess he’s running low on funds.” I let out a short, mockingugh that echoed through the office.

    Sliding the cheque back toward him, I gestured to Evelyn. Without needing more instruction, she stepped forward, took the cheque, and made a note on her phone to contact my bank manager immediately. I didn’t care what it cost–this was an investment. An expensive one,

    but one that would return tenfold once I took Adrian down.

    “Now,” I said, leaning forward, my voice dropping into a tone so serious it could have frozen the airb, /bb“/bthat’s settled, and we’re on the same page. Tell me, why did Adrian get arrested?”

    Themissioner looked down at his desk, avoiding my gaze. For a moment, I thought he might try to stall again, but the deal had been

    struck, the money had already started pulling at his lips, loosening them.

    “A murder case,” he said finally, the words slow and deliberate.

    I didn’t move, didn’t blink–just waited,

    “It was said,” he continued, “that he killed two people five years ago. It wasn’t discovered until a few days ago.”

    b“/bWow.” I leaned back in my chain once again, letting themissioner’s words hang in the air for a moment. b“/bI knew Adrian was cold- hearted, but I never thought of him as a killer.” My voice was calm, almost conversational, but I could feel the sharp edge in my tone. “And five years?” I shook my head slowly. “So you’re telling me… You people managed to keep this little gem of a secret hidden for five whole yearsb?/b”

    bThe /bmissioner shifted ufortably in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him. “No,” he corrected quickly, “we didn’t keep it hidden. Like I said we only just discovered it.”

    I narrowed my eyes slightly, studying him. He didn’t look like he was lying– but then again, years in business had taught me that everyone was capable of lying when the stakes were high enough. “And who,” I asked slowly, “was it this team of yours that dug up something so… deep?”

    Themissioner rubbed his jaw, clearly debating how much he should tell me. Then he exhaled. “It wasn’t any of my men,” he admitted reluctantly. “It was ady… Olivia ke. We recently found out exactly who she is.”

    I tilted my head, filing the name away in my mind. “Hmm.” My tone was neutral, but my mind was already running through possibilities. *Anything else I need to know?”

    Themissioner hesitated, as though saying it out loud might invite trouble to step right through his door. Finally, he said, “The people he allegedly killed… their names were the Greysons. We don’t have full evidence tying Adrian directly to the crime, but…” he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice, “thedy ims he’s the one.”

    “Is that so?” I murmured, feeling a slow smirk tug at my lips. This was getting more interesting by the second. “Then it looks like I’ll have to… speak with this Olivia ke.” I rose smoothly to my feet, my suit jacket falling neatly into ce.

    “Please…..” Themissioner’s voice cut through the air, making me pause mid–step. “Let’s keep this information between ourselves. Don’t tell the media any more than you already have. Adrian would… destroy me if he found out I spoke to you.” His eyes darted nervously to the door, as if the man himself might walk in at any second.

    A small, knowing smirk curled across my face. I turned my head just enough for him to catch the expression. “I can’t make any promises,” bI /bsaid simply, letting the words sink in. Without waiting for his reply, I pivoted and walked toward the door. Evelyn, fell into step behind me, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

    My driver was already waiting, holding the rear door open. I slid into the car, the door closing with a soft thud that seemed to seal off the

    world outside. Evelyn followed, taking her ce beside me.

    The moment we were moving, I reached into the sidepartment and retrieved my tablet. With a few swipes, the screen lit up, and I

    opened the browser. My fingers moved quickly as I typed the name: Olivia ke.

    Frankly, I didn’t expect much. She could have been anyone – some ambitious nobody looking to make headlines by dragging Adrian’s name through the mud. I was mostly hoping to find a trail of breadcrumbs: a social media profile, a local news mention, maybe a personal blog where she spilled her self–righteous crusade against Adrian.

    But then… the results popped up. And I froze for a fraction of a second.

    Her name was there, bold, crisp, impossible to miss. And just beneath it, inrge capital letters: CEO of ke Enterprise.

    “Well, well…” I murmured under my breath. “A multi–billion–dorpany, huh?” My lips curved into a slow, calcting smile. This wasn’t some desperate, attention–hungry amateur. This was someone with resources, influence… and the kind of power you don’t just stumble into.

    I leaned back against the leather seat, my mind shifting into strategy mode. “Looks like am not the only billionaire you’ve got problems with, old friend,” I whispered to myself. The thought alone was enough to send a spark of excitement through me.

    But a question nagged at the back of my mind – Why now? Why would a woman with an empire to run suddenly decide to dig up an incident from five years ago? What could possibly be worth her time, her reputation, and herpany’s stability just to bring back something that the

    478

    city had apparently buried?

    I kept scrolling, my beyes /bscanning every headline, every link. Then… something caught my attention, Something that made me still for just ba /bheartbeat before the corners of my mouth turned up again, sharper this time.

    There it was, tucked neatly into a sidebar of an old article:

    “Adrian Westwood – Ex–wife Olivia ke.”