A first-rate Wiktorian mansion was located in a secluded and quiet area on the East Side. It was Justin's private residence. Outsiders were unaware of its existence.

Sheryl arrived in the early hours of the morning, rushing to report to Justin, only to bump into Remy, who exuded an unmistakable air of coldness.

His eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn't slept in days.

A menacing vibe surrounded him, and his eyes burned with feral intensity. Sheryl felt unsettled and longed to flee his presence.

"You're like a ghoul," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes before knocking on the door to enter Justin's study.

Remy remained expressionless in the face of her contemptuous remark. He followed her into

the room.

his classically-decorated study, Justin sat in his wheelchair, idly

costly cockatiel at The Millenium. A devoted follower of Justin, the former idolized the latter, mimicking his

a ridiculous

obsession. The desire to merge with the

retrieved the voice recording," Sheryl said, stepping forward. She pulled out her phone

But when he heard the words promise' and 'see you there, rain or shine", his expression darkened. His

palpable,

had someone hack into Jasper's car's dashcam to retrieve this recording of

sighed, her voice tinged with dissatisfaction. "It's a shame we didn't

and said, "No, this conversation is

you for

dark, his voice low and measured. "There's something I need you to

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