Chapter 44

Zola scoffed. "With a temper like that, I think I'll call you Mr.Grumpy. How's that sound?"

Even the toughest folks in the world are scared of a sharp-tongued woman, especially one who's been sparring with her mother-in-law for thirty years.

"My last name is Rivera," Patrick snapped.

Zola nodded. satisfied. "That's better. Young people should be polite.Emily can be pretty rude when arguing, but she's usually very polite otherwise."

"So, you're Emily's friend," Patrick said, his patience wearing thin. He just wanted to know where Emily was, not get into personal chit-chat.

"Spit it out! Where did she go?" Patrick growled, barely containing his anger, with a hint of threat in his voice.

Zola noticed people in the courtyard looking over and, fearing she wouldn't get her information fee, quickly stepped forward. Patrick raised a hand to stop her. "Stay there and tell me the truth."

Zola smoothed her hair and whispered, "Emily moved out. She bought a new house somewhere. She came back a few days ago but didn't go inside. Something happened in the neighborhood..."

Patrick tensed up and asked, "What happened?"

Zola's eyes darted around, and she lowered her voice, "Ill tell you,

but don't spread it around. It's been kept quiet by the authorities.Some jerk spilled a large amount of cooking oil on the stairs. Several people fell and got seriously injured. An old man even died!"

She patted her chest as if still shaken, "His son was heartbroken. The police investigated for a long time but found nothing.The neighborhood is old and doesn't have security cameras. No one knows if it was an accident or a deliberate act. There's talk of a psycho killer."

Seeing Patrick unmoved, Zola felt disdain but continued eagerly, "Everyone in the neighborhood is scared. The community committee paid hush money to keep it quiet. I'm only telling you."

Zola felt lucky she hadn't gotten up early that day, or she might have been another victim.

Patrick initially thought it might be related to Emily, but lost interest when he realized it wasn't. His mind was solely focused on finding Emily.

As Patrick started to leave, Zola muttered, "Poor thing. If a pregnant woman had fallen, it would have been two lives lost."

Patrick paused at her words, a flicker of concern crossing his face,but he turned and left. He had to find Emily. She wasn't in the slums or her apartment,so where could she be?

Emily wasn't a local. Her mother had brought her to Pearl Peak City to start a new family. She had no relatives here, and her grandparents hadn't been in touch for years.

Patrick leaned against his Maybach, legs crossed, lightly scratching the bandage on his wrist, still healing from a car accident. He stared into the distance, lost in thought.

What had happened to Emily? Why had she disappeared?

Patrick couldn't believe she would leave without a word. He had to find out the truth.

Emily could only be in two places. Her best friend Melissa lived in Silverbrook. Patrick had his assistant check, and Melissa had also been missing for over ten days, likely disappearing with Emily.

Patrick considered that Emily might have gone to Marlon, but he couldn't believe she would betray him.

A Maybach was parked outside the Hughes Group building from ten in the morning until four in the afternoon. Whenever security attempted to chase it away, they were handed two dollar bills, but after one round, no one dared to try again.

The car stood out in the sunlight, its luxury clashing with the surroundings, signaling the owner's determination and status.

The Hughes Group's second-floor dining area had floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a great view and a place for busy employees to relax.

Emily arrived at The Hughes Group at eight-thirty sharp. Marlon was already waiting, impeccably dressed, with a smile and a look of joyful anticipation. Seeing her made his world light up.

Emily insisted on going through the proper channels. so Marlon called the HR manager for an interview. When he heard Emily was applying for a jewelry design intern assistant position, he was stunned, "What? You're here for an assistant job? An intern?"

In the company, assistants didn't hold high positions. Regular assistants were second-in-command, and interns had even less status.

The company often hired batches of interns, sometimes ten or even a hundred, but only about ten percent were eventually hired. The acceptance rate was low.

Aside from recent graduates, most people with a few years of work experience didn't want to be interns, mainly because they couldn't endure six months of poor treatment and humiliation.