Mason stepped into the dimly lit bar, the one that had become his secret meeting spot for months.
It smelled of old wood, spilled drinks, and secrets no one dared to tell in the light.
His private investigator sat in their usual booth, a small black folder already laid out on the table. Mason's eyes immediately locked on it.
Without wasting a second, Mason slid into the seat. "You said you had something that could change everything. I'm listening."
The investigator nodded, his expression calm but alert. "Yes, sir. We finally tracked down every single record of Nicholas's whereabouts during the five years he was missing. It's not pretty."
He pushed the folder forward. Mason opened it, and his eyes began scanning through the neatly clipped documents.
Each page felt like a punch to the gut, photos of Nicholas in shadowy meetings with foreign officials, receipts, offshore account transactions, digital prints of encrypted communication logs.
