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.

sat in his wheelchair, idly toying with a colorful cockatiel in its

an exquisite, costly cockatiel at The Millenium. A devoted follower of Justin, the former idolized the latter, mimicking his habits and hobbies,

was a

merge with

her phone and, in Remy's

as he listened. But when he heard the words promise' and 'see you there, rain or shine", his expression darkened. His eyes became as deep and void as

forced positivity was palpable, and it stirred

as you instructed," Sheryl continued, "I had someone hack into Jasper's car's dashcam to retrieve this

dissatisfaction. "It's a shame we didn't

and said, "No, this conversation is priceless to me. Very

elated. "Thank you for your

and measured. "There's something I need

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