Callie looked at his figure lying on the bed, frowned, and quietly exited the room.
The benefit of being seen as his girlfriend by his people was that she could walk freely in the club without anyone suspecting her. Over time, Callie gradually accepted this identity.
As far as she knew, Jaquan had a study in the club. She searched around and found it locked with a combination lock.
She bent down and saw her reflection in the shiny door.
Birthday? No.
His wedding anniversary? Also no.
The lock indicated one more chance to re-enter the code. Callie’s palms were sweaty as she took out her phone to search for information, then entered a number. The door opened with a beep.
It was the day Cyrus went to prison.
The study was large, filled with many documents and miscellaneous items. Callie walked in, closed the door, and searched for a while. Most of the documents were about Scott Group.
She wasn’t interested in those. She felt around for hidden doors and cabinets. Finally, she found a locked cabinet where Jaquan kept his tea.
A row of Earl Grey Tea.
Another password to guess.
This time there was only one chance. If she failed, an alarm would go off, meaning she couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
Her heart pounded like a drum. After a long time, she gathered her courage and entered a number.
010923.
It was Charlotte’s birthday.
No, not Charlotte, but Maevelyn. It was her birthday.
Callie squinted as the lock opened. She was almost stunned; it really was this password.
Why would Jaquan set this number?
Inside, there wasn’t much, just a few documents. One of them was Charlotte’s file, the original one…
It contained photos of Charlotte before her plastic surgery and her real name: Holly Brennan.
Callie instinctively tightened her grip on the paper.
Jaquan’s background check was very detailed, covering everything from her childhood to adulthood. Callie felt like she was holding a hot potato. Without looking closely, she stuffed all the documents into her bag.
As she left the study, she saw that the highest-specification private room door was locked. Clearly, someone was inside. She stopped a waiter, “Are there guests today?”
“Yes.” The waiter looked at her strangely.
“Important guests?”
“Of course, anyone who can enter here is important.”
Callie took the wine he was holding, “I’ll deliver it.”
The waiter hurriedly stopped her, “That’s not appropriate. Mr. Scott wouldn’t allow it.”
Callie said calmly, “Since they are important guests, they must be Jaquan’s friends. I’ll entertain them on his behalf. Don’t you trust me?”
The waiter broke into a sweat and said it wasn’t what he meant, “I’m afraid you’ll be scared by what’s inside.”
Scared-
Callie became more determined to go in. She picked up the wine and bypassed the waiter, “I know my limits. I won’t let you take the blame.”
With that, she pushed open the private room door directly.
Inside was large, filled with decadent sounds and the smell of smoke in the air. Callie walked through the crowd and placed the wine on the table, then opened each bottle one by one.
Most of those present were young people, second-generation rich kids who spent money without care. There was nothing special about them. Callie didn’t understand why the waiter said there were important guests.
Just as she was about to turn around, she suddenly saw someone lying in the corner of the sofa. She couldn’t see the face clearly, only the outline. An arm pressed against a syringe, and the person appeared to be in a strange state of euphoria.
Callie froze. Marilyn!
What was she doing here?
She-
Perhaps she stared too long because someone immediately threw a cup at her, “What are you looking at? Get out!”