Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 44

Jeremy had just ended his call when, across town, Willow slipped off her own headset.

Ten o'clock tonight, then?

Perfect. The cover of night would make them less vigilant.

Willow kept herself busy as she waited patiently for dusk to fall.

By around 9:15 p.m., Jeremy finally emerged from his apartment. Willow was staked out not far from his building, waiting for her chance.

She needed to tail Jeremy—only then could she catch him meeting with Mr. Simmons in person.

Jeremy hailed a rideshare, but Willow was already prepared. She'd rented a car in advance and parked it nearby. The moment he left, she hurried back to her own car and followed at a discreet distance.

More than half an hour later, using a tracking program she'd installed on Jeremy's phone, Willow watched as he arrived at a run-down, abandoned apartment complex. She made sure to show up two minutes after him.

The place was in shambles—crumbling stairwells, barely any light, and the only functioning streetlights were out on the main road. Inside the complex, there were no security cameras at all.

For Willow, it was the perfect spot for a covert operation.

She didn't follow Jeremy into the building. Instead, she parked in a blind spot outside, away from the street cameras, and stayed in her car.

She grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat and pulled out a palm-sized box. Inside was her pride and joy—a micro-drone, no bigger than a housefly and weighing less than an ounce. It was equipped with a high-res night vision camera, capable of both video and audio recording.

All this for a plagiarism case. She almost laughed at how overqualified her tech was for the job.

If she wasn't heading to the lab in a few days to focus on her stealth drone project, she wouldn't be burning her ace so soon.

Even in the dim light, they were close enough for Jeremy to clearly see Emmett's reaction.

Yes—this Mr. Simmons was actually Emmett, one of the grandsons of the Horizon Group's real estate tycoon founder.

And Jeremy's own father was Emmett's father's personal driver. That was how Jeremy knew Emmett—and why, in his phone, he still labeled him "Mr. Simmons." A little show of deference from someone used to being on the lower rung.

Emmett's easygoing expression darkened. "Are you sure you weren't set up? Did you say anything you shouldn't have?"

Jeremy shook his head quickly. "Of course not. I didn't say a word."

He hesitated, then asked carefully, "Mr. Emmett, do you happen to own a notebook with a password lock?"