The next morning, Jeremiah dropped Yvette off at the school entrance and drove to the market. Inside the car, he answered a call from Bruce. Given the time difference between Seacrity and Mysonna, it was nighttime in Mysonna.

"Mr. Chavez," Bruce greeted.

Jeremiah replied, "Yes."

Bruce's voice was serious. "Mr. Chavez, someone with significant influence investigated your information a few days ago, even employing hackers. We intercepted them quickly, and they uncovered nothing. Our counter-investigation traced the IP address to the Goodman family residence, where Braydon is currently living. It's likely Braydon himself."

Jeremiah's gaze sharpened. After a few seconds of silence, a cold glint appeared in his eyes. "Why?" he asked.

Bruce hesitated. "Mr. Chavez, I believe it's because of Yvette. After she left, Frankie told us Nathan visited our villa to bother Yvette's friend, Sienna. Then..."

Jeremiah frowned, his expression hardening. "Go on," he urged.

Bruce continued, "Yvette shot Nathan. Frankie said Nathan, while furious, showed no disrespect; his words hinted at familiarity and fear. It's suspicious that someone of Nathan's status would fear Yvette."

Jeremiah's voice was deep and serious. "Yvette has another identity—an Interpol agent."

Bruce gasped, struggling to steady his phone. "Mr. Chavez, you're saying Yvette is an Interpol agent?"

Jeremiah replied, "Yes. Something happened yesterday; her cover was blown."

Bruce felt overwhelmed. He thought, How many identities does she have that I don't know?

"Now she's revealed as an Interpol agent," Bruce continued. "I know the standards for that organization are extremely high. Mr. Chavez's choice of women is...unconventional, to say the least. Of course, a powerful woman is often with a powerful man. There's nothing unusual about that."

Bruce asked, "Mr. Chavez, could Yvette's involvement with the Goodman family during her time at Interpol explain Nathan's caution? As for Braydon, his motives remain unclear."

Jeremiah's voice was cold. "Keep the Goodman family occupied so they can't focus on us. I'll be in Mysonna soon."

Bruce nodded. "Understood, Mr. Chavez. The Goodman family is expanding into water transport; I'll focus on that to distract them."

"Good," Jeremiah said. "Reveal a bit of my identity to them. I want to see what they do."

Bruce understood immediately. He thought, It's more interesting to trap someone like catching a turtle in a jar. This is Mr. Chavez's strategy. He never waits passively. He doesn't move often, but when he does, it's accurate, ruthless, and devastating. The Goodman family had chosen to provoke Mr. Chavez, and now they would face the consequences.

"Alright, Mr. Chavez. I'll leak some information," Bruce replied.

As they were about to hang up, Frankie, having overheard the conversation, insisted on speaking. Bruce handed him the phone. Frankie complimented Jeremiah and then asked about Yvette.

"Mr. Chavez, how's Yvette? Mysonna feels dull without her. Sienna's child is gone, and she's in the hospital. Could you tell Yvette we'll visit her in Clusia once Sienna is well? Mwah, mwah!"

Jeremiah's blue eyes deepened. "Who are you blowing kisses to?"

Frankie denied it immediately, knowing Jeremiah's notoriously jealous nature. He assured Jeremiah the kisses were purely figurative.

Jeremiah smirked. "Okay, give the phone back to Bruce."

Bruce resumed the call. "Mr. Chavez," he said after Jeremiah's single instruction.

Curious, Frankie asked, "What did Mr. Chavez say?"

Bruce looked sympathetic. "Mr. Chavez said you're heading to Afria tomorrow to oversee the new gold mine." He patted Frankie's dumbfounded face. "I don't think you'll be blowing kisses anytime soon. I'm booking your flight—private jet, perhaps?"

Frankie looked mournful. "Is this how you treat a brother? Help me talk to Mr. Chavez! I don't want to go!"

Bruce shook his head. "Do you think that's possible?"

Frankie sighed, defeated. He knew it was hopeless.

After the call, Jeremiah drove to the market, thinking about Yvette's request for fried chicken wings.

When Yvette returned to school, rumors were already swirling. The school forums were abuzz with candid photos of her. She reported to Tobias and then went to Simon's office.

She knocked gently. "Hello, Simon, I'm Yvette."

Simon opened the door with a welcoming smile. He'd been waiting, the computer screen still displaying the university forum, showing a zoomed-in photo of Yvette entering the school gates.

Yvette entered, glancing briefly at the screen. Simon felt uncomfortable. He nervously rubbed his nose. "Well, I recently changed my username and was browsing... I saw this. What a coincidence!" he laughed.

Yvette raised an eyebrow. "Simon, your username is quite trendy," she said softly. She sat, noticing the snacks on the table.

Simon blushed, thinking of his username: "The Protector of Ms. Zeller." It all started when someone criticized Yvette online, and he defended her. A student asked if he was a fan and wanted to join a "Protector Group." He joined, changing his username and spending two nights agonizing over it.

Simon turned off the computer and sat down. This was a classic case of his embarrassment outweighing hers.