"Let's do it tomorrow."
Remington's voice was deep, a cigarette dangling unlit between his fingers. He was a man of discipline, rarely indulging in the habit unless under the weather. Yet, the past two months of fruitless searching had seen him reaching for the pack more often than not.
Now, with Lizetta right in front of him, he didn't want his smoking to affect her, so he had been trying to kick the habit for the past few days. But to his annoyance, what had been a casual indulgence seemed to have morphed into a full-blown addiction, stirring up an unexpected irritability within him.
Crushing the cigarette between his fingers, Remington withdrew his gaze and repeated, "Let's do it tomorrow."
Turning to enter the house, Ray ran his hands through his hair, practically on the verge of screaming.
'Remington, you said the same thing last night and the night before!'
This trip had been a rush, with the company barely having time to make arrangements. Thinking of Cedric, who was nearly driven to tears over the phone begging for his return, Ray felt helpless. "Take care of the surveillance," Remington ordered calmly from ahead.
Lizetta's villa was rigged with cameras and an alarm system, so when Remington mentioned this, Ray knew that someone was planning another wall-scaling adventure tonight. It had become a routine over the past few days.
"Got it. But Mr. Remington Dashiell, you really should come clean with your wife sooner rather than later. She's bound to find out, and the longer you wait, the angrier she'll be!" Ray tried to reason, feeling like he was turning into a love guru despite his tough, single status.
Remington frowned slightly but said nothing. He, too, wanted to come clean and take Lizetta away with him. Now that he had found her, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her here, especially in her condition. Regardless of how content she seemed, the distance was too much for him to bear.
However, he knew that Lizetta was unlikely to willingly leave with him. Coming clean meant facing resistance or, worse, another escape. These thoughts made the usually decisive man hesitant.
That night, Remington snuck into Lizetta's room, leaving only when it was deep into the night. Back in his room, he reset the surveillance and alarm systems before lying down, twirling two strands of long, fine hair between his fingers until he drifted to sleep.
What he didn't know was that, mere minutes after his departure, six shadows approached Lizetta's courtyard and breached it. They managed to tamper with a couple of cameras, but as one of them touched the doorknob to Dora's room, a soft alarm sounded.
Dora sat up abruptly, grabbing a gun before peering out. Her eyes glinted sharply as she quickly drew the curtains.
Lizetta was roused from sleep by Dora, who hastily dressed her in a thick coat, whispering, "There's danger. I'll hold them off; you escape from the back. Head north into the woods; someone will meet you there."
Startled, Lizetta barely had time to react before a small handgun was thrust into her hands. Dora led her out of the room in the dark, pushing her towards the back door and then cutting the power.
"Be careful."
Knowing she'd only slow Dora down, Lizetta nodded. They had rehearsed this escape before. Pulling her hat down, she crouched and made her way towards a hidden exit at the back. Meanwhile, the sound of the door being forced open and heavy objects hitting the floor rang out behind her.
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