Josie looked at him lying on the bed with her brows furrowed before she quietly left the room.
The advantage of always being treated as Mrs. Carter by Arnold’s subordinates was that she could move freely in the club without arousing suspicion. Over time, Josie gradually accepted this identity.
To her knowledge, Arnold had a study in the club. She searched around and found it locked, secured by a combination lock.
She bent over, seeing her own face through the gleaming door. Birthday? No, that’s not it. His wedding anniversary? That’s not it either.
The lock indicated only one more chance to input the correct code. Josie’s palms were drenched in sweat. She pulled out her phone to look up some information, then entered a number. Instantly, the door beeped and swung open.
It was the date Edward was sent to prison. The study was spacious, filled with a multitude of documents and miscellaneous items. Josie walked in and closed the door behind her. She spent a good while rummaging around, most of what she found were materials related to the Carter Group.
She showed no interest in those things. Instead, she was busy exploring hidden doors and cabinets. Eventually, she found a cabinet where Arnold kept his tea leaves and noticed that it was locked. There was a row of chamomile tea.
I have to guess the password again.
This time, there’s only one chance. If she failed, an alarm would be triggered, which meant she didn’t have the luxury of trial and error.
Her heart pounded like a drum, and it took her a good while to gather the courage to press the numbers.
010923
It was Heather’s birthday.
No, not Heather’s. It’s Liana’s. This is Liana’s birthday. Josie squinted her eyes, watching as the lock opened. She was astounded by the fact that Arnold used that password.
Why did Arnold set this number? Inside, there wasn’t much, other than a few documents. Among them, strikingly, was Heather’s background file…
The photo on it was of Heather before she had plastic surgery, along with her real name: Rachel.
Josie subconsciously tightened her grip on the paper.
The background investigation by Arnold was incredibly thorough, covering incidents from Rachel’s childhood to adulthood. Josie, feeling like she was handling a hot potato, didn’t have time to look through it carefully. Hence, she stuffed all the documents into her bag.
As she left the study, she happened to notice that the door to the most luxurious private room was locked, clearly indicating someone was inside. She stopped a waiter. “Do we have guests today?”
“Yes.” The waiter looked at her with a somewhat strange expression.
“A VIP?”
“What are you saying? Isn’t everyone who comes in here a VIP?”
Josie took the wine from his hand. “Let me deliver it.” The waiter hastily protested, “This isn’t appropriate. Mr. Carter wouldn’t allow it.”
Josie said flatly, “Since they are VIPs, they must be Arnold’s friends. So let me entertain his friends on his behalf. Do you not trust me?”
The waiter was sweating profusely, saying that was not what he meant. “Mrs. Carter, I’m afraid you might be shocked by it.”
Shocked?
Josie’s resolve to go in became even stronger. She picked up the wine, bypassed the waiter, and said, “I know what I’m doing. I won’t blame you for it.”
After she finished speaking, she pushed the door of the private room open.
Inside, it was vast and filled with soft music. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke. Josie navigated through the crowd and made her way in, placing the wine on the table. She then began to open the bottles one by one with a corkscrew.
Most of the people there were young and affluent second-generation rich who spent money like water. As there was nothing special about them, Josie didn’t understand why the waiter said there were VIP guests.
Just as she turned around, she suddenly noticed someone lying in the corner of the couch. She couldn’t quite make out the face, only the silhouette. The person had a syringe pressed against her arm, her entire demeanor exuding a peculiar sense of pleasure.
Josie was stunned.
Summer! Why is she here? What is she doing…
Due to Josie staring for too long, someone suddenly threw a cup at her. “What are you looking at? Get out!”
