The Double or more Life of the Fake Heiress (Mirabella)

Dylan nodded. "Yeah, this whole area is off-limits because of the Weapons

Bureau warehouses. Regular folks can't just wander in, which is why I asked if you know someone there."

Mirabella turned off the holographic display on her phone, lost in thought. That guy must still be busy.

"Are you planning to head over there, boss? We can hang around the perimeter if you want," Dylan asked again, his curiosity piqued.

Anyone his father was so focused on finding had to be someone special.

With that thought, Dylan was about to turn the car around, eager to see what might unfold.

Mirabella shot him a glance. "Take me back to the hotel."

"Oh."

Despite his curiosity, Dylan changed his mind and turned off the blinker.

A short drive later, they pulled up in front of the hotel. Mirabella waved at Dylan as she got out.

Once the car disappeared down the street, she turned and walked into the hotel.

Back in her suite, Mirabella took a shower, letting her hair air-dry while she grabbed her phone from the coffee table.

No missed calls or messages.

What kind of business could be this demanding at such an hour?

Feeling wide awake, Mirabella lazily settled onto the couch, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV.

*

Meanwhile, the fierce gunfire had finally ended, and the night resumed its deep, quiet calm.

"James, Mr. Link's men are all taken care of," Curtis reported, his black tactical gear still carrying the scent of battle. He noticed the wound on James's arm and his expression shifted. "You're hurt."

James simply raised his hand, his striking features showing no concern. "It's nothing. What time is it?"

Curtis sighed in relief and checked his watch. "Almost midnight."noveldrama

yel

"That late already?" James frowned slightly, then peeled off his gloves, tossing them to Curtis before striding out of the warehouse "You handle the cleanup. I'm out."

Curtis watched James leave in a rush, a bit surprised.

When Wyatt arrived from Section One, he saw Curtis alone and glanced around. "Where's James?"

Curtis turned back. "He's gone."

"Already? His arm got grazed by a bullet. Hope it's not serious," Wyatt said, worry in his voice.

"It should be fine," Curtis replied,

having only taken a quick look at the

wound. "Go inventory the

warehouse. I'm heading to Mr. Link's place."

"Alright." Wyatt nodded, not arguing.

...

In his car, James casually wrapped his arm with gauze, then reached for his phone from the glove box.

The signal had been blocked in their area, but once the car moved out of range, his phone buzzed back to life.

As soon as the signal returned, Messenger notifications chimed in.

James glanced at the messages, and the cold tension in his eyes softened. Without replying, he floored the gas pedal.

What should've been over an hour's drive, he blazed through in about forty minutes to get back to the hotel.

After parking, James grabbed a

spare set of clothes from the

backseat and the gift he had Wyatt prepare earlier, then headed into the hotel. .

It was past 1 AM, and the lobby was empty except for the hotel staff.

The elevator ride to the top floor was smooth. Mirabella had given James a spare keycard earlier, so he quickly let himself into the room.