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 wheelchair, idly

an exquisite, costly cockatiel at The Millenium. A devoted follower of Justin, the former idolized the latter, mimicking his habits and hobbies, convinced that they were the hallmarks of power

a ridiculous

merge with the

out her phone and, in Remy's presence,

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

recording. Alyssa's forced positivity was palpable, and it stirred a

continued, "I had someone hack into Jasper's

with dissatisfaction. "It's a shame

this conversation is priceless to

was elated. "Thank you for your compliment, Mr.

dark, his voice low and measured.

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