Chapter 375

Chapter 375:
Shaun let out a low chuckle, unbothered. “Why the panic? I’ll get someone to take the fall. Nothing will point back to you. So relax.”
His tone was casual—almost reassuring—but Nixon wasn’t convinced. Outside, the city lights flickered on one by one, and the last streaks of sunset disappeared behind Choria’s skyline.
Shaun’s voice turned quieter, smoother. “Relax, Mr. Garrett. We’ve been partners for years. I’m not about to leave you hanging.”
On the other end of the line, Nixon finally let out a shaky breath of relief.
“Alright then. I’ll leave it all to you, Mr. Smith.”
Stella had been on edge the entire day. After returning home from the research institute, she didn’t rest. Instead, she dove back into investigating Nixon.
What she found was enough to make her skin crawl—an online plea for help from the family of the person he’d indirectly killed, along with countless reports of his shady dealings. She felt a shiver down her spine.
By the time she compiled all the documents and sorted through the evidence, her chest felt tight. She shut her laptop and dragged herself to bed, but her mind refused to settle. Tomorrow… she didn’t know what to expect. Only that something was coming.
The next morning, just as she was finishing up her routine, her phone rang. It was Shaun.
“Hey, Syl…” His voice came through the line with a note of regret. “Something urgent came up at Smith Group. I might not be able to go with you to the warehouse today.”
Stella froze, then listened as he went on. “It’s a major project. A deal that might shape our entire second half of the year. I really can’t miss this. But I’ve already sent a driver to pick you up. He’ll take you there.”
She hesitated for a second before responding, “I get it. Handle your company stuff. Don’t worry about me.”
The call ended. Stella lingered by the door for a moment, gripping the handle tightly.
Going alone was risky. Way riskier. But if she didn’t go today, Nixon might move that entire batch before she had another chance. Her phone buzzed. A text from the driver: [I’m downstairs, Ms. Gilbert.]
𝙍𝖊𝗅𝗂𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖼𝖾:
She took a deep breath and stepped out, heading for the elevator.
The driver was polite and professional. “Ms. Gilbert, Mr. Smith asked me to take you there.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, settling into the backseat.
The city blurred past the windows as she sat in silence, nerves gnawing at her. Forty minutes later, they pulled up to the hilltop. Ahead, she could see the same warehouse she’d found out about online yesterday.
The driver turned off the ignition. “I’ll wait here, ma’am. Once you’re done, just come back to the car. Mr. Smith’s team will be here soon too. You’re not alone.” His reassurance helped, just a little.
Stella zipped up her windbreaker and stepped out into the chill. The wind was sharper up here, biting through the thin mountain air. She walked alone toward the warehouse, each step feeling heavier than the last.
.
.
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