“Ms. Fuller, you…”

The subordinates exchanged awkward glances, whispering, “We thought you’d ask if we caught the hitman.”

“Did you?” she asked.

“No.”

That day, immediately after the attack, the four rushed into the building to apprehend the hitman, but arrived too late. Inside, they found only two spent shell casings. The hitman was gone. While searching, they discovered another body in the stairwell—the apartment owner where the hitman had been hiding. He had been silenced. They continued to trace the hitman’s movements but never saw his face. Surveillance footage only showed his strong, imposing back; he wore a hat and kept his head down.

But what did this have to do with Felicia wanting to see Maurice? One subordinate finally asked.

Felicia didn’t hesitate. “I want to know who the hitman is. Maurice must know.”

The subordinates exchanged worried glances, suspecting Maurice’s involvement. None dared respond.

Her tone sharpened. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Ms. Fuller, please wait. We’ll report to Mr. Glovers immediately.”

They had no choice; she could contact him herself. Relaying the message was simply less awkward.

The message reached Maurice quickly. Hearing that Felicia had been attacked again, nearly killed, and that her friend had protected her, he frowned. A second attack so soon?

One subordinate nervously asked, “Mr. Glovers, this wasn’t your doing, was it?” If it had been Maurice's plan, Felicia might have died with her friend!

Maurice cursed. “What nonsense? Do you think I’m so ruthless?” He admitted to taking a certain pleasure in her suffering, but he’d never acted directly. At most, he observed coldly from the sidelines. This, however, was beyond his expectations. He anticipated an attack, but never a sniper attack—nearly impossible to defend against.

The subordinates breathed a sigh of relief and relayed Felicia’s message truthfully.

“She wants to see me?” He instinctively touched his chest. Recently, he’d felt discomfort there. Yesterday, while dining, tears inexplicably streamed down his face, frightening the maids and subordinates. They thought he’d seen a ghost! It wasn’t his emotions; it must have been Felicia’s—grief, pain, guilt, regret.

Maurice clicked his tongue. He hadn’t expected the so-called “twin venomous creatures” to allow him to feel the other’s emotions. He shrugged it off. Since she was so distraught, he’d reluctantly comply.

“Arrange the plane; we’re going to Khogend.” He tossed down his papers and left.

“Ms. Fuller, Mr. Glovers will meet you. A plane is arranged; he’ll arrive by evening at the latest.” The subordinates spoke respectfully, surprised by Maurice’s unusually good mood. They expected him, given his temper, to send her to Ablil, even if he agreed to meet. Instead, he was coming personally. What was going on?