Rafael, still tense and uneasy, listened to Sheriff Alex's words.
"Rafael, trust her. She is highly skilled, and she has successfully navigated through numerous dangerous cases before," Mr. Alex asserted with confidence.
His words were an attempt to instill trust in Rafael's mind, to persuade him that they were putting their faith in someone capable.
"But, Mr. Alex!"
Rafael began, his worry obvious, but the sheriff anticipated his concerns and intervened.
"I understand your concerns, Rafael. However, you have to believe that she is more than capable of managing this situation. Trust in her intelligence and experience."
Rafael took a deep breath, he knew that there was no turning back from the path they had chosen, and waiting was now the only option.
"Boy!"
Sheriff Alex placed a comforting hand on Rafael's shoulder, attempting to console him.
"This is a top-secret mission, and we can't rush in, accusing them outright. It has the involvement of influential businessmen and individuals within the administration. We need to tread carefully and gather enough evidence to make a substantial case."
Rafael acknowledged the sheriff's advice with a solemn nod.
"Okay, sir," he responded.
As he turned to leave, Sheriff Alex's words gave him pause.
"One thing, Rafael," Alex's tone carried a note of caution.
"Please don't make the same mistake as last night. Let her handle it on her own."
Rafael took a deep breath, absorbing the reminder.
Understanding the importance of allowing her to work independently, Rafael nodded in agreement.
With that, he left the sheriff's house.
**
The midday sun cast a warm glow on Francisco's car as he delved into his official files. It was a routine day, much like the others he had spent immersed in his work.
Suddenly, the ring of his phone pierced through the quiet ambiance. Francisco answered with a crisp, his attention shifting from the paperwork to the unexpected call.
"Yes."
As the voice on the other end relayed information, a subtle transformation swept across Francisco's demeanor. The lines on his forehead deepened, and the stern set of his jaw hinted at the gravity of the news.
Whatever was said seemed to strike a nerve.
"Why did he go to meet the sheriff?"
The voice on the phone belonged to Martin, a sergeant, and one of Francisco's informers.
"I don't know, sir. But I think Mr. Rafael and Mr. Alex was doing something."
He tapped his fingers on his forehead, contemplating the implications of this unexpected development.
After a moment of contemplation, Francisco's voice cut through the tension.
"Is this my work to know then why do I give you money?"
Martin, feeling the weight of Francisco's sternness, hesitated before responding. "I… I am sorry, sir. I will try to find out."
"Try to know? What do you mean by it?" Francisco questioned, a sharp edge to his tone.
"No… I mean, I will inform you about it, sir," Martin stammered, attempting to clarify his stance.
Taking a deep breath, Francisco decided on a course of action. "Next time, don't call me. Call my assistant."
He ended the call abruptly, severing the connection.
He refocused his attention on the official file before him.
His concentration, however, was interrupted as the car came to a halt. The sudden stop coincided with his bodyguard opening the car door, signaling their arrival.
Francisco, composed as ever, stepped out of the car, his coat clasped shut with deliberate precision.
Entering the building, Francisco navigated the corridors with practiced ease.
As he neared the elevator, Francisco took another deep breath, a momentary pause to collect himself. The anticipation of Hazel waiting for him loomed in his mind.
The elevator doors slid open with a muted hum, and Francisco stepped into the corridor.
The bustling energy of the office seemed to dim as he realized something was amiss — Hazel was nowhere to be found.
His brows furrowed in confusion and a touch of concern.
Where is she?
Francisco muttered to himself, retracing his steps through the corridors, his gaze darting from one corner to another.
The events of the previous night lingered in his thoughts, casting a shadow over his usual composure. Whatever had transpired had left an impact on Hazel, and now her absence only deepened his unease.
Pulling out his phone, Francisco dialed the number of the men he had entrusted with Hazel's safety.
The response came promptly, "Yes, master."
"Where is she?"
"Ma'am has not come down yet."
A sense of foreboding settled over Francisco as he nodded in acknowledgment. About to end the call, he was halted by a voice on the other end, "Ma'am!"
Perking up at the mention of Hazel, Francisco listened intently as her voice carried through the phone, a mix of surprise and skepticism evident in her tone.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Francisco sends a car for you. Please come to this side."
"Mr. Francisco?" Hazel echoed, her voice laced with curiosity and perhaps a hint of suspicion.
Hazel eyed the waiting car, a mix of surprise and determination in her gaze.
"Sorry, I can go by myself," she declared, a note of independence in her voice.
"Ma'am, please," the man insisted, but before he could press further, Francisco intervened, his voice cutting through the moment.
"Give her the phone."
The man complied, handing over the phone to Hazel. She accepted it with a stern expression.
"Mr. Francisco, what is it?" she demanded.
"Hazel, do as he says. You are late today."
Hazel pressed her lips together, a hint of defiance in her eyes. Without arguing further, she reluctantly handed the phone back to the waiting man and got into the car.
As the door closed behind her, Francisco opened his laptop, eyes fixed on the camera feed inside the car. He watched as Hazel settled into the seat, her gaze focused on the passing scenery outside. A small smile played on Francisco's lips as he observed her.
However, the tranquility was disrupted by the abrupt entrance of Max into the room.
"Francisco!" he exclaimed, urgency in his voice.
Francisco shifted his gaze from the laptop to Max.
"I heard you were attacked last night?"
Francisco, still leaning against his chair, reassured Max, "It was nothing. I am okay now."
"That's why I always told Diana to stay in the mansion, but your sister doesn't listen to any of my words," Max suddenly exclaimed, his anger palpable.
Francisco sighed.
"Max, I am fine. Just let her do whatever she wants, but tell her to keep my words in her mind."
"I don't want any trouble because of it."
"No, Francisco. This time I can't agree with you," Max declared, his tone unwavering.
Francisco, intrigued by Max's adamant stance, stepped away from the chair and walked closer.
"What do you mean?"
Max, struggling with his words, exhaled before finally speaking.
"It's not just about the incident last night. There's something more, and I can't keep silent about it any longer."
"Max, what's going on?"
Max closed his eyes, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of unspoken burdens. "Diana has been keeping things from us, Francisco. Things that might put all of us in danger."
"What do you mean, Max?" Francisco pressed, his voice edged with a mixture of urgency and frustration.
Max hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
The time has come.
Francisco is my friend.
I need to tell him the truth that I love Diana.
"The thing is..." Max took a deep breath and looked at Francisco.