“This is just the beginning. “ Joe reread the words on the paper. “Watch your back.” His heart was beating rapidly as he carefully placed the pictures back into the box. Whoever had done this wasn’t just some random intruder. Joe’s mind swirled with questions. Could it be the person he had seen Mr. Adam talking to recently? Or could it be Rosie? When that thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it almost immediately. Rosie had too much at stake to take such a risk. Joe’s thoughts shifted back to the stranger talking to Mr.Adam. He was sure his boss was behind this. And if that was the case, Joe knew he had to get to the bottom of it. With a quick decision, he closed the box, left his room, and headed straight to his car. He navigated down the darkened streets. Joe knew what he was doing was risky, maybe even foolish, but he couldn’t just sit around waiting for another cryptic message or another hit to his company. As he pulled up near the warehouse he had visited before, mem
“What happened to you?” Joe’s eyes remained on Mr. Adam’s swollen face, which had a dark bruise under one eye and a cut on his lower lip. “It’s nothing,” Mr. Adam grunted, standing slowly as he met Joe’s gaze. “There are more pressing issues right now.” Ignoring his words, Joe said, “Don’t give me that reply. Tell me what happened.” “I got into Fight, okay!”Mr Adam finally said. “It’s no big deal.” “With who?” Joe asked. Mr. Adam didn’t say a word and remained quiet for a while, which made Joe speak. “Was it with that man? Did you go and see him?” Mr. Adam was silent, his eyes darting away for a moment. “So you’re going to keep this from me too?” Joe said, shaking his head. “It’s not—“ Before Mr. Adam could complete his sentence, John spoke up; “I overheard your conversation with your guest,” Joe continued. “I know those men are after me. I’m sure you went over to smoothen things out with them, probably because of the break-in.” Mr. Adam’s face hardened. “T
“John!” Joe called out as he realized who the figure standing close to his car was. “What are you doing here?” Joe asked, not removing his eyes from Him. John looked at Joe pulling himself away from the car. “I went by your office to check on you. They said you were here, so I thought I’d drop by.” Joe raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his surprise. “So, you came all the way here?” John smiled slightly. “I did. Actually, I wanted to take you out for a bit and help you relax. You’ve been through a lot lately, and the last thing you need is to stay cooped up in the office.” Joe considered his words and at that moment , he realized that Timothy was right. The weight of the break-in, the tension with Mr. Adam, and everything else had started to wear on him. A break might actually do him some good. “You’re right,” he admitted. “So, where do you have in mind?” “There’s a place I know at Walters. It’s a cozy spot, nothing fancy, but they have an amazing rooftop.” John said. “Sounds
Joe held the phone to his ear, waiting for the voice he hadn’t heard in far too long. Finally, there was a click, followed by a gruff voice on the other end. "Joe?" Jerry said, the tone colder than Joe had hoped for. "Long time no see, or call, or text." “Jerry,” Joe started. "I know you're angry, but it’s not what it looks like." "Then explain it to me," Jerry spat back. “You got rich and just forgot about me, huh? I’ve seen you in all those business articles, making waves. But I guess you were too busy even to send a text?” Joe sighed, realizing that no excuse was going to make this right. After a long pause, he finally said, "I'm sorry, Jerry. I should have reached out." "Ya think?" Jerry muttered, the bitterness clear in his voice. “Please,” Joe said, feeling the weight of the guilt settle in. “Forgive me.” Silence stretched on the line, lasting so long that Joe began to wonder if he’d lost the call. Finally, Jerry spoke with a soft voice. “The only way I’m forgiving you
The hard-faced man Joe assumed was Puck walked towards him. At every step, he glared over his shoulder until he got closer to Joe’s car. He tapped the window, and Joe opened it. “Puck!” Joe said slowly, and the guy nodded. “You must be Jerry’s friend.” He said. “Yes, I am,” Joe replied. “I called you about Victor.” “I remember vividly,” Puck said. “So, what type of business do you want with him?” “I’m searching for a supplier,” Joe said in a slow tone; he knew he had to be careful with his words; any wrong word he said would send the puck back to his hiding spot. “You know, you don’t have to go to the big guys to get the good stuff,” Puck said. “I have anything you need.” “I prefer Victor,” Joe said with a straight face. “Since you won’t help me find him, I would be on my way.” “No, wait!” He said, calling Joe’s attention. Joe shifted uneasily as he faced Puck through the open car window. "I’d help you," Puck said, a sly smile creeping onto his face. "But it comes with a
The next day arrived, and all Joe wanted to do was relax and forget about his encounter with Victor. But as he sat in his office, Victor’s words kept ringing in his head. How could the answers he was looking for be in the estate? And if he was right where does he start looking? “Sir!” A knock on the door caught Joe’s attention. Joe adjusted himself. “Come in," he called, and his eyes returned to the paperwork scattered in front of him. The door creaked open, and Jeremy stepped inside, clutching a small brown envelope. "Sir, this just came in for you," he said, and his words made Joe lift his head. Joe looked up and nodded, reaching out his hand. "Thanks, Jeremy." He took the envelope, and Jeremy turned, leaving the office without a second glance. The moment the door clicked shut, Joe's curiosity turned to dread. Something about the envelope felt off. Then, he noticed the trademark at the bottom. “This was another death threat.” He said to himself. With a deep breath, he
Joe's hand shook as he stared down at the paper. It was identical to the one he’d received earlier—same handwriting, same eerie message, and the words that made his blood run cold: ‘Tick-tock, Joe. Time’s running out.’. But as he looked closer, something caught his eye. This note wasn’t addressed to him. It was addressed to his father. Joe’s stomach tightened, and a rush of questions flooded his mind. His father had been receiving the same threats, and Joe wondered just how long these letters had been haunting him. Could this be connected to his father’s death? Had the same person been behind his death and was now coming for Joe? The panic began to take over. He would find out who was behind this, no matter what it took. Driven by the need to know more, he began searching through the study, pulling open drawers and rifling through shelves. A stack of envelopes, all marked with the same threatening handwriting, fell into his hands. The door creaked, and Joe froze. Without thinki
Joe reluctantly approached the table, stealing a glance at lady Penelope’s guest. The woman gazed at Joe, before she quickly looked away. John looked at Lady Penelope, and when he got closer, he wrapped her in a hug. They exchanged warm smiles and immediately they pulled away Lady Penelope spoke up, "I thought you’d forgotten all about me." She said in a slow tone. Joe shook his head, smiling apologetically. "How could I? I’ve just been so busy with the family business." Lady Penelope’s face softened. "I know you have, and I'm just teasing you. I heard about the break-in. I’m glad nothing was taken."Joe smiled instead of responding , the memory of that unsettling night flickering through his mind. "How are the investigations going?" she asked, with a concerned tone. "The police are still on it, and they haven’t updated us yet," Joe replied. "I hope they catch whoever is behind it," she said earnestly. "So do I," he murmured, his eyes flickering away from hers, landing on th