“What do you need me to do for you, boss?” Zack asked, his eyes lighting up with anticipation as he looked at John. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows on the walls, which only seemed to amplify the tension in the air. John heaved a heavy sigh, the weight of his thoughts visible in the furrow of his brow. He pulled out his hand from his pocket and gestured for Zack to come closer, the movement slow and deliberate. There were so many things running through John’s mind, a chaotic storm of suspicions and half-formed plans, and he needed to figure them out as soon as possible.“I need you to keep an eye on Claire Gabriel Blake,” John said, his tone serious and heavy with unspoken fears. Zack tightened his eyes, a look of concern and curiosity crossing his face. The flickering light from a nearby lamp cast a dance of shadows across his features, making his expression seem even more fierce.“Why, boss? Is there something wrong?” Zack asked, his voice tinged with unease as he trie

“What am I supposed to do?” John’s voice quivered with shock, his brows furrowing deeply as if struggling to comprehend. His eyes widened in disbelief, as though he had misheard Brad’s words. Brad, standing opposite him, held a cup of amber liquid in his hand, the condensation trickling down the sides, unnoticed in the tense air between them. “I said, we have to eliminate Stephanie as soon as possible,” Brad repeated, his tone now tinged with an unsettling confidence that sent a shiver down John’s spine.John’s mind reeled at the proposition, unable to reconcile the reality of Brad’s words with his own principles. “You must be joking,” John finally managed, his voice strained with incredulity. He fixed Brad with an intense stare, searching for any sign that this was all a twisted prank. Brad’s smile in response was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the gravity of his words. There was no way John could entertain the notion of ending Stephanie’s life, no matter how deep his animo

John returned home, and he couldn’t stop thinking about all that Brad had told him. Each word Brad had said echoed in his mind, stirring a storm of anxiety and confusion. He sat on his creaky bed, its old springs groaning under his weight, and thought about the flash drive that Brad had spoken about. The room was dim, with a single flickering bulb casting long shadows on the peeling wallpaper. He wondered where the flash drive could be hidden because the last time he checked Stephanie’s vault, he didn’t see any flash drive. “What could even be in the flash drive?” he thought to himself, the question swirling in his mind like the incessant hum of a fly. His thoughts were a tangled mess, each one vying for attention but providing no answers. Another big thing that confused him was the certainty if Brad was truly being transparent with him or if he was just trying to use him and tag all the crimes on him. The doubt gnawed at him, an insidious whisper in the back of his mind, casting

“He is just my friend,” Joshua stammered, his heart pounding so violently it threatened to escape his chest. His eyes remained fixed on the phone, its screen glowing with Modelisa’s scrutinizing gaze. “I mean, she is just my friend,” he hurriedly corrected himself, swallowing hard against the knot of saliva that seemed to constrict his throat. Modelisa stood silently, her presence looming large as she observed him with intense interest. Her eyes, sharp and predatory, tracked every twitch of Joshua’s nervous frame. A soft smile curled on her lips, sending a chill down Joshua’s spine. It was a smile that held promises of secrets uncovered and intentions exposed. “It seems you’re quite confused about your friend’s gender,” she remarked, her voice dripping with thinly veiled mockery and disdain. “It was a slip of the tongue,” Joshua replied, his voice strained as he fought to maintain composure. Beneath the calm facade, his mind raced with scenarios of what could happen if Modelisa probe

“What are you talking about?” Modelisa dimmed her eyes at John. There was a flash of both confusion and worry on her face, like storm clouds gathering before a thunderstorm. Her brows furrowed, creating deep creases, and her lips trembled ever so slightly, betraying the turmoil within her. “You think I am the one plotting against Stephanie, that I am trying to use her, that I want revenge and am taking advantage of her, but then you fail to see the real threat,” John spat with so much confidence that it reverberated in the room. His voice was low and gravelly, each word dripping with intensity. His eyes bore into hers, unyielding, as if trying to pierce through the layers of her doubt. It was the right moment for the hit and pressure, and he sure wasn’t going to allow his chance to slip. “You mean Jeffery?” Modelisa said, narrowing her eyes. Wrinkles formed on her forehead like the ripples on a disturbed pond, her expression hardening as she tried to comprehend his words. The n