“In Patric’s villa?”
Sarah’s sleepiness instantly evaporated as she sat bolt upright in bed.
“Spill it, how on earth is Hedda connected to him?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten? Since Grace divorced Edgar, she’s been as thick as thieves with Patric.
Despite Edgar transferring the bay villa to her, she didn’t move in, and we’ve never been able to pin
down her actual address.”
“What are you implying? Sarah scowled.
“Isn’t what I mean obvious enough?” Nancy rolled her eyes, “It means she’s likely shacked up with
Patric! We’ve turned Frant City upside down looking for Hedda but to no avail, which makes me think
that Grace could’ve tucked him away in Patric’s villa!”
After mulling it over, Sarah conceded that Nancy’s theory held water and promptly dispatched someone
to investigate.
After ending the call, Nancy tossed her phone aside in frustration, reclining against the headboa
as she awaited Sarah’s intel
Hedda’s miraculous survival as a vegetative patient remained a thorn in her side.
No matter how much she strutted like a peacock in public, Hedda’s existence was a constant reminder
of her illegitimate birth.
Having become the Mellis Group’s heir apparent, she sought every chance to eliminate Hedda, but
given her mother’s eagle-eyed vigilance, almost never leaving Hedda’s bedside, she struggled to find
an opening.
But as long as Hedda clung to life, her claim to the Mellis Group throne would remain shaky.
It was inevitable that she’d be compared to her in the public eye.
Hedda’s disappearance presented a golden opportunity off the two most troublesome obstacles!
he had to seize the moment and knock.
The dawn gradually illuminated the sky, the morning sunlight softly kissed every nook and cranny,
gently rousing the city from its slumber.
Nancy watched as the skies brightened outside her window, her anxiety escalating with each passing
second.
The phone trilled. Snatching it up, she quickly swiped to answer, “Well? Any news yet?”
“We can’t confirm for certain that Hedda is in Patric’s villa, but our guys have reported that the villa’s
security has nearly doubled. The place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Something’s definitely
fishy.”
“What do we do now? No matter how much clout the Mellis Group or the Grammer family wield, we
can’t afford to get on Patric’s bad side, especially not on his home turf.”
Nancy deflated.
She was at her wits’ end, totally stumped about what to do next.
“I have my own plans. You don’t have to worry about it.”
Sarah hung up before Nancy could respond, hurling her phone aside in a huff.
Patric had always given her the cold shoulder, but suddenly, he started treating Grace with kid-
gloves, which really got under her skin.
Every time she thought about Grace and Hedda potentially being in his villa, she was so green with
envy she could spit.
The more Sarah stewed about it, the angrier she got. She made up her mind to do some snooping
around at his villa while Patric was out and about.
“Rise and shine, get up quickly!”
Sarah, through a phone call, yanked Elon out of dreamland.
“I have to swing by Patric’s villa this morning, get everything arranged pronto. If anything goes off the
rails, it’s on you.”
Elon, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, was champing at the hit to argue that he was just a bodyguard,
that these chores should be handled by an assistant, but eventually he gave in with a grunt of
agreement, “Yes.”
After finishing the task assigned to him by Nancy, Tim hopped on the red-eye flight back to Frant City
from Wind City.
To throw Edgar off the scent, he decided to swing by his own apartment, freshen up with a shower, and
then hit the office to clock in.
He parked his car in the garage and tiptoed in. Before he could button up the door, he caught sight of a
silhouette puffing away on the sofa.
He turned and saw it was Edgar.
Underneath the swirling smoke, his face was as dark as thunder.
They locked eyes and a wave of panic washed over Tim, but he tried his best to keep a poker face.
Being his assistant, the residence was arranged by Edgar, so he had the door password down pat.
“Mr. Fallen, did you need to see me?”
Doing his best to keep his cool, Tim put down his bag and said, “You could’ve just given me a bell if you
needed anything, there was no need to come down here. It’s still early, you haven’t had your morning
joe yet, have you? Can I whip something up for you?”
“Where have you been?”
Edgar brushed off the volley of questions thrown his way. He snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray
with his slender fingers, and his icy gaze pierced through Tim like a sharp sword.
With feigned nonchalance, Tim replied, “Well, I don’t think I should be cooped up in the office all the
time. I’ve been itching to stretch my legs a bit more, but never seem to find the time. Didn’t want it to
mess with my work, so I squeezed in a morning run.”
“Is that so?”
Edgar shot him a sharp look. He stretched out his long legs, crossing one over the other, his fingers
tapping on the glossy solid wood trim of the sofa, exerting an air of subtle intimidation.
This alone was enough to make Tim feel the strong pressure.
“Mr. Fallen, I’m just hitting the pavement for a bit of morning exercise. Don’t read too much into it.”
“Tim, you’ve really let me down,” Edgar sighed, a hint of fatigue crossing his face. “Do you think I’m
clueless about everything?”
Involuntarily, Tim shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The phone taps on Nancy have been removed. You used my name for it. And last night, you left
12:00
The Millionaire and
Chapter 6
Frant City. What were you up to?”
Edgar ceased his chatter, his eagle-eyed gaze focused unyieldingly on Tim.
“So… you’ve been guarding against me all this while?”
Those words struck like a bolt from the blue.
Tim dropped to his knees in front of him, “Mr. Fallen, I deserve to be thrown to the wolves. 1 shouldn’t
have crossed the line. Please, punish me!”
“Where did you go when you left Frant City last night? What were you up to? Spit it out.”
Keeping his rage under wraps, Edgar rose from his seat, towered over him, his words carrying an
ominous warning.
“This is your last chance, you know the fate of those who cross me.”
Tim was lost for words.
After a moment, he gritted his teeth, mustered up his courage and locked eyes with Edgar.
“Mr. Fallen, don’t you think you’re pushing the envelope? Miss Mellis is your fiancee, yet you couldn’t
care less about her.”
Caught off-guard by Tim’s counter-accusation, Edgar furrowed his brows.
“You bend over backwards to defend Grace, but turn a blind eye to your own fiancee. Handing over the
villa to Grace, moving Miss Mellis to another apartment, is this what a stand-up fiance does? Nancy
was framed and seriously injured by Grace, yet you didn’t lift a finger.”
Finishing in one breath, Tim continued to stare defiantly at Edgar’s icy expression.
“Finished?”
Touching his wristwatch, Edgar maintained his composure despite Tim’s words. “One last time, what
were you doing out of Frant City? Is this related to Grace?”
Tim had been by Edgar’s side for years, and was well acquainted with his quirks and ticks.
He knew that Edgar was suppressing his anger.
Even if he clammed up, Edgar would eventually uncover the truth, so he decided to take the bull by the
horns.
“Grace is dead! Last night, I had her plane hijacked, and she bailed out mid-flight. She harmed Miss.
Mellis. You may let that slide, but I can’t!”
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