The interior of the Von Ritcher private jet exuded luxury and sophistication. Plush leather seats, sleek metal accents, and soft ambient lighting created an atmosphere of comfort and exclusivity.As the door to the jet closed with a satisfying thud, Greg and Dylan exchanged glances, each exhaling a sigh of relief.Dylan flopped into a nearby seat, his posture relaxed yet his expression still tinged with astonishment. "Well, that was quite the experience. I never thought we'd be chased by a thousand reporters today."Greg’s lips quivered into a wry smile, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been chased like that. I kind of forgot how it feels.”His words carried a mixture of nostalgia and self-deprecating humor. The memory of his younger days when he was often hounded by the media felt like a distant echo. The passage of time had transformed him from an elusive enigma into a discreet presence, skilled at evading prying eyes.Dylan chuckled, his gaze shif

Havenwood Estate stood as a testament to the legacy of the Von Ritcher family. Its grandeur was a reflection of their prestige, a sanctuary of opulence hidden within the picturesque landscapes of Central Struggl. As Greg and Dylan stepped onto the grounds, the air seemed to hum with a sense of history and privilege."So, this is Havenwood, huh?" Dylan mused, his voice tinged with admiration. Greg nodded."Yes, it is. It's your first time here, right?"Dylan nodded in response. "Yeah, it is. Wow... It looks cool, I never imagined that it would be this lavish... It's like a mini version of Von Ritcher estate.”Greg chuckled. "Sure it is. Grandpa is the one who requested it to make it not hard to remember the room."Dylan grinned. "Well, that really sounds like Master Von Ritcher, always has a way of adding a personal touch to everything."The two of them made their way toward the entrance of the estate, where the welcoming ambiance extended. The pristine marble floors, the exquisite ar

The calm ambiance of the Behav pharmaceutical shop was shattered as a sudden commotion erupted at the entrance. The once-muted buzz of conversation escalated into shouts and exclamations, causing heads to turn in alarm. Greg, Dylan, and Rika spun around to face the entrance, their gazes locking onto the source of the disturbance. But before anyone could react, a series of rapid movements unfolded before them. Like a bolt of lightning, a figure lunged forward from the crowd, his expression contorted with anger. But before he could reach his intended target, strong arms wrapped around his struggling form. Behav's security personnel had acted swiftly, restraining the man before he could reach the trio. The intruder was none other than an elderly man, his appearance worn by the years and his clothing simple, a stark contrast to the polished environment of Behav. Wrinkles etched deep lines on his weathered face, and his eyes blazed with a fierce intensity that spoke of unrelenting determ

As the cleaning activities resumed, the young man's involvement didn't wane. The young man orchestrated the aftermath with meticulous precision as if treating the old man's presence as a contaminant that needed to be eradicated.“Sanitize that part more! I can still smell the scent of rotten fish from here! Use that bigger one to make it disappear!” the young man commanded, and the security immediately sanitized the area more with a bigger spray.As the security team worked to sanitize the area, the young man turned his back and walked toward Rika’s direction to engage in a hushed conversation with her. Their exchange seemed to be a mix of urgency and confidentiality, and Greg couldn't help but notice that Rika's shoulders trembled, betraying an underlying unease as they talked."Why does she look so afraid?" Greg pondered, trying to discern the reasons behind her anxiety. He contemplated whether to eavesdrop on their conversation to uncover the source of her distress.But as Greg was

"Hey, Greg... Are you distancing yourself from me?"Greg paused for a moment, his eyes glued to the phone screen, his fingers hovering over the keys as he contemplated his response to Dylan. "No, it's just your feeling. I'm not distancing myself from you."But Dylan, not satisfied with the vague response, pressed further. His voice grew more insistent, laced with frustration. "Are you sure? It feels like you're keeping something from me."Greg continued to evade the question, his own unease manifesting in his reply. "Dylan, you're overthinking it. Seriously, it's nothing. You just…"That’s it! Dylan couldn't take it any longer. The past few days had been a relentless cycle of Greg brushing off his questions, and now, frustration bubbled within him. He decided to confront his friend and subordinate head-on."Greg, we've been through everything together, okay? We've shared our secrets, our plans, our fears. But now you're shutting me out? You didn't even answer my question about your pl