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.

Justin sat in his wheelchair, idly

cockatiel at The Millenium. A devoted follower of Justin, the former idolized

was a

worship bred obsession. The desire to merge with the idol, to become them, was

said, stepping forward. She pulled out her phone and, in Remy's presence, played the conversation between Jasper and Alyssa from

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

too, heard the recording. Alyssa's forced positivity was palpable, and it stirred a tempest of

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

"It's

"No, this conversation is priceless to

"Thank you for your compliment,

grew dark, his voice low and measured. "There's something

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