One of the tall security guards approached Yvette and asked rather rudely, "Hello, miss. This is Regal Tower; the Regal Hotel is not just any hotel. Are you lost, or did you take a wrong turn?"

Yvette's expression was bland. She raised an eyebrow and looked irritated.

The guard began, "Miss, you—" but stopped abruptly, shocked, as if someone had gripped his throat. He couldn't believe what he had seen.

He instantly recognized the card in Yvette's hand as the exclusive black VIP card issued by Regal Tower—a card held by fewer than ten people globally.

His attitude changed immediately. He bowed deeply, saying flatteringly, "All right, miss. Please follow me. We'll get a presidential suite ready for you immediately."

Yvette glanced at the guards impassively, saying nothing, and walked into the hotel.

The two guards exchanged panicked glances. A complaint from a guest of this caliber would be disastrous. Who would have guessed a woman in simple sportswear would possess such a card?

The man and woman who had earlier felt humiliated were dumbfounded upon seeing the black card, something they could only dream of possessing.

In Room 203, Emmett paced restlessly, occasionally glancing at the clock. Yvette had said her private jet would arrive in Mysonna at seven. How could he believe a college student owned a private jet?

Three men in camouflage uniforms were with him: Frankie Ellison, Chris Wilcox, and Bruce Mosley. They had worked with Jeremiah for over a decade, handling various matters worldwide, their true identities known to very few.

Frankie, sitting on the sofa, stood up. "Are we just waiting for Yvette? Even if she's Mr. Chavez's girlfriend, she's just a college girl. What can she do?"

Chris frowned, remaining silent but clearly agreeing with Frankie. Bruce, standing on the balcony, stubbed out his cigarette, turned, and silently picked up his jacket to leave.

Emmett, noticing their unease, felt anxious. Five days without news from Jeremiah; the Mysonna rainforest was notoriously dangerous, claiming countless lives annually.

"Bruce!" Emmett stopped him.

Bruce stared meaningfully at Emmett. "Are you really planning to wait for Mr. Chavez's girlfriend to decide everything? Have you lost your mind, Emmett? With each passing moment, Mr. Chavez is in more danger. If you want to wait, do it alone."

Frankie nodded firmly. Even Chris, usually the most obedient, opposed Emmett for the first time. "Emmett, we can't wait any longer."

Emmett was quiet for a few seconds. He looked at his watch. "Five minutes. If Yvette isn't here by exactly seven, we're heading to the rainforest."

Frankie scoffed, unconvinced Yvette would be punctual.

Silence fell, broken only by the ticking clock. One minute remained.

Emmett sighed, realizing he'd placed too much trust in Yvette. Bruce smirked, thinking, You can't believe a woman.

Emmett, unable to wait longer, stood. As he reached for his gun, the doorbell rang.

His heart filled with joy, he ignored the others and rushed to the door. They exchanged glances, wondering if she was really there.

Opening the door, he saw Yvette. She stood there, in a black tracksuit and cap, carrying a black backpack. Half her face was illuminated by the corridor lights. She looked up, her serious eyes exuding coolness, holding an old-fashioned telephone.

Emmett stepped aside respectfully. "Ms. Zeller, please come in."

Yvette entered expressionlessly, noticing the three men. Her gaze remained calm. She put down her backpack, sat on the sofa, removed her cap, crossed her legs, appearing completely at ease.

The three men were surprised by her arrogant demeanor, unsure if she even saw them. She glanced at them, then at Emmett. Her cold eyes held a chilling glint, her delicate eyebrows adding to her charm. She nodded slightly. "Please take a seat."

Frankie found himself sitting down before questioning why he obeyed a stranger. Bruce, a mixture of emotions on his face, looked at her stunning face with pursed lips. He'd expected Jeremiah's girlfriend to be impressive, but not this extraordinarily beautiful. He worried for Jeremiah, hoping he wouldn't be deceived. Chris remained composed.

Once seated, Emmett poured Yvette water, then sat beside Chris. Yvette's confidence was evident. She met their gazes calmly, then pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and placed it on the table.

Frankie immediately picked it up, Bruce and Chris glancing as well. It read: "Compasses, serum, lighters, raincoats, and ready-to-eat steak…"

They understood the need for compasses and tools, but ready-to-eat steak? They were on a rescue mission, not a camping trip; she seemed pampered.

Yvette glanced coldly at the men, prompting Emmett to introduce them. "Ms. Zeller, to my left is Frankie Ellison, next to him is Chris Wilcox, and then Bruce Mosley. They've all been working with Mr. Chavez for over ten years and came immediately upon hearing about the incident."

Yvette replied lightly, "Yvette Zeller." Bruce greeted her, followed by Chris and Frankie.

Without small talk, Bruce spoke directly. "Mr. Chavez has been missing for five days, along with others. We've decided to go to the jungle tonight."