?Chapter 1096:

    Meanwhile, Carrie’s maid returned after moving the car. As she approached the restroom, she stopped in her tracks. Carrie was gone. So was the nurse from earlier. Instead, a new nurse stood in front of the door with a sign next to her that read: “Out of Order.” Panic hit instantly. The maid rushed forward.

    The nurse stretched out an arm, blocking her path. “Sorry, this restroom’s under repair. You’ll need to use another.”

    “There was someone inside just now!” the maid snapped. “What do you mean ‘under repair?’”

    She raised her voice, calling, “Ms. Campbell? Ms. Campbell, are you in there?”

    The nurse frowned, clearly annoyed. “Everyone’s already left. Who are you looking for?”

    The maid quickly pulled out her phone and showed a photo. “This is Ms. Campbell. She’s an actress. You’d recognize her.”

    The nurse’s expression shifted slightly. “Oh. Carrie? Yeah, I saw her earlier. She left with another nurse—they went for a CT scan.” She pointed off in a vague direction. “Keep going straight, past the garden. The CT building’s over there.”

    It was the farthest building on hospital grounds, and without knowing theyout, it could take ten minutes just to get there.

    The maid didn’t think twice, thanked the nurse, and jogged in the direction the nurse pointed.

    The nurse watched her disappear down the path and smiled darkly. By the time she figured out the truth, it’d be toote.

    She picked up the “Out Of Order” sign, tossed it under her arm, and strolled off toward a different side door.

    No one would stop her—the security cameras around here had already been disabled.

    Inside his apartment, Daxton loungedzily on the couch, dressed in a ck silk loungewear set. The usual air of refined elegance was gone—reced by a colder, sharper edge. He radiated a quiet authority that felt more dangerous than calm.

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    In front of him, the table was set with a full spread of fine dishes. Red wine was breathing in a crystal decanter, the deep crimson catching the sunlight.

    An assistant stood at his side, speaking cautiously. “Mr. Garcia, Lise has taken Ms. Campbell from the hospital.”

    Daxton sat up a bit, poured himself a ss of wine, took a slow sip, then asked in an even tone, “Any idea where they’re headed?”

    The calm in his voice unsettled the assistant. Even with the woman he cared about in danger, Daxton looked unfazed—as if this were all just business.

    To those who worked under him, Daxton felt more machine than man—detached, cold, using life and death as mere tools.

    Trying to hide his unease, the man continued carefully, “They’re heading toward the coast. We think… they might n to throw Ms. Campbell into the sea.” He hesitated, then quickly added, “That’s just our assumption. We’ve got someone tailing the vehicle. If anything changes, we’ll update you immediately.”

    Daxton was quiet for a moment, swirling the wine in his ss. Then he asked, “Has the Morrison family maid reported her missing?”

    The man shook his head. “No, sir. She’s still at the hospital, looking for Ms. Campbell. She doesn’t realize she’s already gone.”

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