At Blackwood Residence,
It was half past seven in the evening when Mike Wilson drove the car into the luxurious, well-secured residential area of Velmora. The man behind the wheel looked calm, almost detached, as if the urgency of the situation hadn't just punched him in the gut.
The car eased to a stop in front of the towering gates. A maid guided him through the courtyard to the patio, where Henry and Margaret were relaxing under soft evening lights.
Inside, Charles Laurent noticed Mike's arrival and instinctively made his way to the patio. If Mike Wilson was visiting at this hour, something had to be wrong. He was concerned about Aveline.
"Chairman Laurent." Mike greeted Henry with respect and nodded politely to Margaret.
"Mike…" Henry motioned to the chair across from him. The visit wasn't a surprise. Mike had called ahead.
Charles arrived, curiosity tightening his brow, "Assistant Wilson, visiting so late. Is everything alright?"
