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Chapter Two Hundred And Seven

"Damn you. Who are you, and what do you have to do with Vera?" Charles asked, and signaled to the driver to search for Vera. The man got the signal, and immediately exited the car.

"I thought you'd burst out of the car, and search for her. Guess you aren't dating after all." She said coyly, and the voice had a striking resemblance to Layla's, but it couldn't be. Layla had been taken by the cops.

She was probably in a psychiatric ward sleeping after being heavily sedated.

"Who are you, and what did you do to Vera? What do you have against her?" He asked, and the voice laughed.

"I must be really insignificant. With all the brainy heists I carried out, you still do not gasp at the sound of my voice." She drawled.

"Layla?" Charles asked, and the doubt was rich in his voice. He kept on expecting to hear traces of anger in the voice at him still unable to recognize them, but instead, he heard a pleased chuckle.

"Now you know."

"What? Layla? You? You were taken by the police!" Charles shout
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