Davis woke up earlier than Jessica. Staring at the sleeping beauty for a moment, he sighed, solidifying the silent decision in his heart—it was time to plan the official wedding for her.
With a feather-light kiss on her cheek, he quietly stepped out of bed, entered the bathroom, and had a quick bath before changing into comfy wear.
Returning to the room, he noticed she had stirred in her sleep and thrown the duvet aside. He shook his head helplessly as he walked over to the bed.
He bent down and pulled the duvet over her properly before tucking it in. His gentle gaze flickered across her face. "Seems too tired," he murmured, removing a few strands of hair from her face.
He stretched out his hand and picked up his phone from the nightstand, his gaze flicking to her face before he turned and made his way to the balcony in light steps.
Outside on the balcony, he shut the door quietly behind him.
The soft, cold air patted his face, the faint fragrance of flowers drifting over as the morning sun peeked through the sky, announcing the dawn of a new day.
His face calm and collected, he gazed into the distance as he mentally ran through the matters requiring immediate attention.
He took a deep breath and decided to start with the most recent—the fashion show.
Though the show had ended without further hitches after he recovered the stolen materials and changed the models, that didn’t mean the situation shouldn’t be investigated.
He had been fairly sure of the voice over the phone, but a little more investigation wouldn’t hurt. He needed to be certain before taking action.
He called one of his subordinates, and the call was picked up on the first ring. "Morning, Boss," a voice filtered through.
"Were you able to get any words out of the young man?" Davis asked.
Yesterday, the manager had been frantic and hadn’t said anything meaningful, only shouting about being forced—and despite how it looked, Davis didn’t buy the story.
"No, sir. He hasn’t said anything reasonable," the voice answered.
He remained silent for a moment. "Since he doesn’t want to talk, set him up," he said coldly.
"Now?"
"Not necessarily, but before the end of the day. He’s the only link to the other parties involved, and I’m sure he must be quite anxious right now," he instructed.
"Yes, sir," came the reply, and the call ended with a beep.
His gaze trailed into the distance as he carefully analyzed the situation.
The manager had been isolated since yesterday with no communication device within reach.
Not knowing what might befall him, Davis knew that the basic human instinct would kick in—the desire to seek help elsewhere when feeling trapped.
He was fairly certain the man had his reasons for staying silent—whether to protect someone or out of misplaced trust and loyalty—but none of those reasons justified staying quiet.
And whatever reason he had would disappear the moment he laid eyes on a communication device.
Davis stared at the phone for a while, then dialed Richard’s number. "Davis?" Richard answered.
"Thanks for handling the show yesterday. I owe you one," Davis said.
"Not worth the thanks. You honestly saved the day—I was already at my wits’ end," Richard replied.
He didn’t want to revisit how terrible the situation had been. Still, he wouldn’t rest until the matter was thoroughly resolved.
"What’s the name of your subordinate who worked with the manager to move the materials out?" Davis asked.


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