Peterson's eyes widened in shock and astonishment, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped the phone tighter. His mind raced, trying to comprehend the gravity of the caller's words. At the same time, Karla, who had sat down on the edge of the bed, felt her own shock seep through every fiber of her being. The realization that Peterson was entangled in a dangerous situation sent a shiver down her spine. She felt she had stumbled upon something beyond her expectations, and now the stakes appeared higher than ever. Breaking the silence, Peterson mustered the courage to ask, his voice trembling slightly, "What do you mean?" The caller's response was cold and calculated, revealing an intimate knowledge of Peterson's circumstances. "I know you, Peterson. Currently, you're hiding from the people you're indebted to. Soon, the bank will take over everything you've got since you'll fail to pay your debt to them." Peterson's heart raced as he absorbed the caller's words. The realization
There was a palpable tension that seemed to invade the air for a moment as Karla remained silent. Slowly, she let go of Abigail's arm and took a step back, her expression conflicted. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "Duncan is going to be upset with us... me especially when he finds out we went on with our plan together without informing him," Karla admitted, her tone heavy with concern. "But at this point, we have already come a bit far, and I think we should just carry on with our findings." Abigail's eyes widened in surprise, her brows furrowing. "Wait, so you are suggesting that we shouldn't tell Duncan anything about this strange person who called Peterson?" Karla hesitated, her reluctance almost turning into irritation. She let out a sigh and nodded begrudgingly. "I don't want to keep this from Duncan, but... we have got to do this," Karla said, her tone filled with a mix of guilt and determination. Abigail sighed, her frustrat
On the highway, Duncan rode his bike with caution, maintaining a safe distance between himself and Ma'am Luna's car to avoid arousing suspicion. As the car took its first turn to the right, Duncan reached the turning point and came to a stop. He observed intently as the car pulled up in front of a hideous-like restaurant, its exterior bearing the marks of time and neglect. Ma'am Luna emerged from the car, casting cautious glances in both directions before entering the establishment. Duncan, keen on maintaining cover, swiftly maneuvered his bike and parked it at the rear of the parking lot, positioned directly opposite the restaurant. From this vantage point, he had a clear view of the entrance and could keep a watchful eye on any activity that transpired. The parking lot itself was empty, save for a few scattered vehicles that appeared forgotten and worn. Duncan took a moment to assess the surroundings, noting the eerie ambiance that seemed to permeate the area. The faint hum
Duncan found Ma'am Luna standing a short distance away, her piercing gaze fixed upon him. His mind raced as he contemplated his next course of action, unsure of how to handle this unexpected encounter. As Ma'am Luna narrowed her eyes and began walking towards him, a frown formed on her face, indicating her displeasure or confusion at seeing Duncan in that particular location. Meanwhile, the waitress who had been involved in the collision left, grumbling about the incident."Duncan?" Ma'am Luna called out, recognizing him and sounding surprised."Gr... grandmother," he stammered, his voice reflecting his astonishment at coming face-to-face with her."What are you doing here?" Ma'am Luna asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Duncan was momentarily left speechless, caught off guard by the encounter. He tried to articulate a response but found himself unable to form coherent words. Ma'am Luna raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. "Did you follow me?" she questioned,
Peterson cautiously glanced around, his senses on high alert as he continued walking down the dimly lit alley. Unbeknownst to him, Karla, who had been trailing him discreetly, carefully kept her distance. She had been tracking Peterson ever since she received a tip about his involvement in a mysterious affair. As Peterson reached the end of the alley, his eyes fixated on a peculiar building that loomed ahead. It resembled a warehouse, with large entrance doors and barrels scattered around its perimeter. The structure emanated an air of secrecy and intrigue. Pulling out his phone, Peterson referred to the message he had received from the unknown caller earlier. It contained specific instructions leading him to this very location. With a mixture of curiosity and caution, he followed the directions and approached the entrance. The atmosphere grew tense as Peterson pressed a button located near the entrance. Suddenly, the massive doors began to open, revealing a glimpse of what la
At that instant, the significance of the revelation hit Peterson. He considered the Waltons, a powerful and influential force that had loomed over his life recently in an unexpected way, now emerged as the common enemy shared between him and this mysterious individual. The implications were profound, and Peterson's thoughts raced as he contemplated the gravity of the situation and the potential alliances that lay ahead. Still in shock, Peterson pulled himself together, his mind reeling with important questions. As he regained his composure, other figures began to appear from different corners of the space, further increasing his tension. Curiosity peaked within him, and he couldn't hold back any longer. He directed his question toward the man who had just taken a seat on a rocky chair that Peterson hadn't noticed before. "Who exactly are you people?" Peterson asked, his gaze shifting from one stoic expression to another. The strange faces before him remained impassive, adding to th
The intensity of his stare conveyed a message, urging Peterson to consider the weight of his decision and the potential consequences that lay ahead. Peterson, now caught in the grip of undying curiosity and a sense of trepidation felt a surge of determination. He couldn't simply accept the offer without understanding the true motives behind it. The stakes were too high, and he needed to uncover the secrets hidden within the pages of that mysterious journal before making a life-altering decision. As if Gregg had read Peterson's mind, he finally said, "The journal is useless to you. You don't have any resources to utilize it and bring down the Walton Group of Companies but I do. I have got the resources. So, don't think too much about it and just tell me if you're accepting my offer." Gregg's words hung in the air, resonating with a clarity that seemed to pierce through Peterson's thoughts. It was as if Gregg had effortlessly deciphered the inner workings of Peterson's mind, lay
After Duncan took a seat, he motioned towards the empty seat across the table, asking Abigail to take her seat. Abigail, her thoughts racing and her composure shaky, hesitated for a moment before finally sitting down. She avoided making eye contact, her gaze drifting to a random spot in the room. In an attempt to calm her nerves, she absentmindedly fumbled with her collar, a nervous gesture that betrayed her uneasiness. Unbeknownst to Abigail, Duncan keenly observed her discomfort. Sensing her unease, he leaned forward slightly, his voice gentle as he asked, "Are you okay, Abigail?" Abigail's initial reaction was to dismiss his concern, attempting to mask her true emotions. "Me? Yeah, I'm cool," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Duncan, however, wasn't convinced. He had noticed the subtle signs of her agitation and could see through her façade. "You actually look unsettled now, that's why I asked," he pressed, offering his empathy. Caught off gua