The western villa district.
"How’s it going, Calvin?"
Camilla hurried into the backyard room, her delicate yet pale face unable to conceal her anxiety.
"Have you found any useful leads about Fanny?"
"Nothing," Calvin replied in a weary, hoarse voice laced with frustration, the heavy scent of cigarettes clinging to him.
"Whoever did this clearly came prepared—they destroyed every possible lead in advance."
Camilla pressed her lips together, her hands at her sides curling into tight fists.
She had combed through the hospital surveillance footage frame by frame, but there had been no suspicious activity around Fanny’s room during her stay.
In fact, aside from the caregiver, no one else had even approached.
The caregiver... After a moment of silent contemplation, Camilla turned her head toward Calvin.
"Calvin, there’s one person we haven’t looked into yet."
Calvin’s gaze sharpened as he focused on her, waiting.
"The caregiver who took care of Fanny," she said.
Camilla’s voice was icy calm, her tone measured and utterly rational.
"You decided to invite Tiffany to dinner on a whim—how could those people have known in advance?
And in the short time between Fanny receiving the call and preparing to leave, they managed to set up this entire trap?"
She paused deliberately.
"Moreover, according to the surveillance footage, that woman hasn’t been seen since Fanny disappeared."
From this angle, the caregiver was highly suspicious.
Calvin pressed his lips together, his strikingly handsome face etched with cold severity.
"It was my oversight."
Camilla shook her head.
"Her presence was too obvious—the more conspicuous something is, the easier it is to overlook.
I didn’t suspect her either at first."
As she spoke, she pulled up her phone and handed Ramsey a screenshot of the caregiver from the surveillance footage, along with her contact details.
Ramsey immediately input the photo into the computer, enhancing and clarifying the image.
Calvin began running it through the Luther Corporation’s all-seeing surveillance system for identification.
At this moment, in Country E, two to three thousand kilometers away from San Francisco There was a five-hour time difference between the two countries.
While it was already morning in San Francisco here in Country E, the sky was still shrouded in the darkness of early dawn.
Tiffany sat bound to a chair, her wrists and ankles tightly restrained, her eyes blindfolded, and her mouth gagged.
The silence around her suggested she was alone, with no guards in sight.
Seizing the opportunity, she struggled desperately against her restraints.
But the more she writhed, the tighter the rough ropes dug into her flesh, cutting deeper into her wrists and ankles.
The searing pain forced her to stop, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Where was she?
How long has it been since she was kidnapped?
Were Calvin and Camilla searching for her?
What did these people want?
A whirlwind of thoughts raced through her mind, leaving her utterly disoriented and terrified.
Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the silence.
The footsteps halted right in front of her.
Tiffany’s body trembled uncontrollably, her blindfolded eyes wide with fear and panic.
She couldn’t begin to imagine what awaited her in the coming moments.
Footsteps halted, followed by a woman’s detached voice: "Feed her." "Right."
The man’s response was impeccably enunciated yet chillingly indifferent.
After this brief exchange, the footsteps approached until they stopped beside Tiffany.
The tape covering her mouth was torn off violently, the sudden pain making her wince as involuntary tears welled up in her eyes.
The handler showed no concern, merely pressing a spoonful of food against Tiffany’s trembling lips with clinical detachment.
Tiffany pressed her lips into a stubborn line, refusing to comply.
The man’s brow furrowed before his hand flashed out in a vicious backhand swing.
The man struck with brutal force, sending Tiffany’s face snapping to the side.
A high-pitched ringing filled her ears as numbness spread across her cheek, soon replaced by searing pain.
A woman’s sharp voice cut through the air like a whip.
"Who told you to hit her?"
The man immediately muttered an apology.
Gritting her teeth against the throbbing pain, Tiffany turned her blindfolded face toward the source of the voice.
Her bound hands clenched into fists behind her back.
"Jaina... why would you do this?"
The words came out low and icy, dripping with disappointment.
In her panic upon waking, Tiffany had forgotten—this woman was the very reason she’d been knocked unconscious in the first place.
So you recognize my voice, Miss Tiffany?"
The woman’s tone lifted with mocking amusement.
Suddenly, the blindfold was yanked away.
Blinding light stabbed at Tiffany’s eyes.
She winced, blinking rapidly until her vision cleared.
And there—standing before her—was the all-too-familiar face of Jaina.
Jaina still wore that same innocent and harmless expression, but the darkness in his eyes sent a chill down Tiffany’s spine.
"Where is this place?"
She quickly glanced around, realizing she wasn’t in some dimly lit basement but rather a vast, empty room.
"Who the hell are you? Who sent you?
Jaina clasped her hands behind her back, watching Tiffany’s panicked state with amusement, her eyes crinkling into crescents as she spoke.
"Miss Tiffany, you’re throwing so many questions at me all at once.
How am I supposed to answer them all?"
She paused, the smile at her lips deepening.
"How about this—pick the one question you want answered the most.
Tiffany pressed her lips together, studying the woman before her for a few seconds before murmuring,
Well, of course, we want to—" Jaina cut herself off deliberately, feigning forgetfulness. "Oh dear, I almost forgot.
I can’t say a single word without the boss’s permission.
My apologies, Miss Tiffany."
Camilla was a detestable woman, and the ones around her were no different.
Tiffany could tell this woman was toying with her.
Her pupils flickered, and her brows drew together in a tight frown.
She simply couldn’t reconcile the smooth-talking woman before her with the honest caretaker from just days ago.
"Ah, I almost forgot to tell you, Miss Tiffany," ’Jaina’ interrupted with a smile that didn’t reach her cold eyes.
"My name is Zendaya, not Jaina."
Even her name was a lie?
Would Senior Mega really choose someone to look after me?
Was he deceived... or— A chilling possibility crossed Tiffany’s mind, her long, thick lashes fluttering slightly.
"By ’Sir,’ you mean... Antonio?"