NovelEnglishWhen Maja stepped out of the building, she was still fuming. Failing to meet with Zoey and now learning that the victim's family
had received compensation, it seemed the matter had been effectively buried by Fitch. With Zoey's own cooperation in not
pursuing the case further, Maja, as an outsider, was utterly powerless.
Her expression was sour as she climbed into her car.
Beck, unsure how to offer comfort, thought for a moment before suggesting, "How about we swing by Greenfield Gardens?"
Greenfield Gardens was lan's villa, currently likely under the care of his assistant Jeff, since lan was away.
Feeling both exhausted and indignant about how Zoey's situation had been resolved, Maja agreed, though she knew she was
powerless to intervene in the legal proceedings, especially since all parties involved seemed to have accepted the outcome.
Clenching her fists, she blamed herself for pulling Zoey out of a mess but failing to teach her emotional independence.
What had she told Zoey back then? Zoey had been clinging to a sliver of affection from Belinda, and Maja had suggested she try
finding something else to fill that void. Clearly, Zoey had turned to Fitch, unbeknownst to Maja at first. By the tshe found out, it
was too late.
Rubbing her temples, Maja spoke wearily, "Let's head to Greenfield Gardens, Beck."
She was too tired and could feel her energy waning, her eyelids already fighting a losing battle.
Upon arriving at the villa and entering the security code at the gate, Maja was met with the sight of Jeff waiting for them at the
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtdoorstep.
"Ms. Pennyfeather," Jeff greeted, a note of surprise in his voice. He hadn't seen these familiar faces in quite a while, not since lan
had left the country.
Inside, Maja found everything just as she had left it—the decoration unchanged, the sound of dog and wolf barking in the distance.
It was Coco and Rocky.
Barely sitting down, Jeff had already instructed the kitchen to prepare dinner.
Holding a cushion in her lap, Maja felt herself drifting off but was jolted awake by the memory of Zoey's puppy. Was it alive or
dead?
She made a call to Elvis.
"Mr. Pennyfeather, the puppy seems to have been found. I'll check on Zoey's place tonight. She messagedearlier about looking
after it, but | don't have much experience with dogs."
"Bring it to Greenfield Gardens; we can take care of it here."
"Alright, I'll go after work."
As Maja leaned against the couch, exhaustion seeped through her tone.
"Beck, wakewhen it's tfor dinner. I'm going upstairs to rest."
"Sure."
Maja made her way upstairs, everything familiar yet untouched.
She entered lan's bedroom, with its understated luxury, and now, it all just made her feel worse.
Tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, she wondered if she was developing anxiety. Pregnant and unable to resort to sleeping
pills, she forced herself to close her eyes.
Downstairs, Jeff, carrying a tray of tea, guessed that Maja had gone to rest.
"Any news from lan?"
Half an hour ago, Beck had briefed Jeff on the situation.
"Nothing."
Jeff sat down, his worry creasing his forehead. lan's disappearance after a massive earthquake was unsettling, especially with Maja
expecting their child. They hadn't even had their wedding yet.
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Beck was anxious too. Every call from Cania made his heart skip, fearing they might find lan but only as a body, or worse, never
find him at all. What would becof Maja and the child?
The two men fell silent, waiting for the chef to announce that dinner was ready.
As the evening darkened, Elvis packed up his things and drove to Zoey's place to pick up Ozzy, the puppy. But outside her
apartment complex, he spotted an unusual luxury car with a string of identical numbers on the license plate—a limited edition
model.
The residents here were all company artists who kept a low profile. Whose car could this be?
Reaching Zoey's floor, Elvis found her apartment lights on. Was it a break-in?
With his spare key, he opened the door to find a man in a trench coat playing with Ozzy, holding a bone.
Looking up, Elvis recognized the man's face—it was Fitch. He'd met Fitch in business scenes before and found him chillingly
detached. While Mr. Raymond exuded an air of aristocracy, Fitch was pure aloofness.
Yet, in the warm light of the apartment, that aloofness seemed to melt away.
Ozzy gnawed at the bone, its teeth not fully grown, scraping slowly as bone fragments fell onto Fitch's expensive clothes. He didn't
seem to mind, simply petting the puppy's ear gently.
Noticing the door opening, Fitch looked up, locking eyes with Elvis.
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