“You know, I figured it would be quite easy for you to know the reason why I would be here,” Victor said. Joe's chest increased as he felt his frustration piling up. Victor hadn’t answered his question yet. Joe felt like he would lose his mind, if victor tried to avoid his question or ask him another question. Surprisingly, Victor didn’t say a word. He just stared blankly at Joe. "Answer my question, Victor. “ Joe said out of impatience. “Why are you here? And what’s really going on in this place?" Victor crossed his arms and leaned casually against a nearby wall, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Fine, fine, I will talk, but I enjoyed messing with you, though.” Joe shot him a glare, and Victor moved his head forward. “Okay, Why am I here? Easy. I sell drugs to rich people." Joe blinked, his brow furrowing. "This looks like more than a drug dealing sight.” Victor’s grin widened. "And you’re right, my dear friend. This is where the elite come to play. Not just rich peopl

Joe followed John closely behind, his curiosity growing at each step he took. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on?” Joe said in a low voice.“You are going to see it soon.” That was the only word John said. He remained quiet as they climbed the grand staircase and walked down a hallway that Joe rarely ventured into. At the end of the corridor, John pushed open a door, revealing a small, state-of-the-art security room filled with monitors, control panels, and blinking lights.Joe stepped inside and looked around, amazed. “I never knew this part of the house existed,” he said, taking in the sleek setup. John smirked. “Not surprised. You don’t strike me as someone who likes to explore.”“You’re right,” Joe admitted, running his hand along one of the counters. “I haven’t even visited most of the estate.”John gestured to one of the screens. “Well, this is where the magic happens. Come here.”Joe moved closer as John clicked a few buttons, pulling up a series of surveillance feeds

“You’ve been in here all morning!” John said as he entered Joe’s father’s study. He glanced around at the clutter of old papers, notebooks, and ledgers Joe had spread across the large oak desk. “I’m looking for answers,” Joe replied, not bothering to look up. His hands sifted through another pile of documents. “I have this feeling in my gut that these threats are bigger than Aaron. There’s something deeper going on here.” John leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms. “Alright, tell me—what have you found so far?” Joe exhaled heavily, holding up one of the letters. “These threatening letters—they’re too identical. Same handwriting, same style, the same words.” He placed the letter down and rubbed his temples. “Aaron couldn’t have written these. He wasn’t even born when the first ones were sent to my dad years ago.” John’s eyes widened. “So you’re saying... Aaron’s father could be behind this?” Joe shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to find some kind of