The days stretched into a repetitive rhythm of meetings, paperwork, and the ever-present shadow of caution. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred; no cryptic messages, no mention of Phoenix still, just the corporate world of suits and spreadsheets.
Annie, Toolz, and Penelope kept hitting dead ends in their investigation into Andrew Beckley. They'd searched databases, public records, and even the internet's darkest corners, but there was nothing. It was as if he didn't exist. One thing was sure though, Andrew was the mastermind orchestrating this whole game and Joseph, with his charm, was a dangerous and powerful ally.
Her thoughts were disrupted when Joseph announced his abrupt departure as they drove into the company's parking lot. "I won't be following you in, I'm heading somewhere," he said, his voice flat. "You can leave early too." The unexpectedness of his words shocked her, heavy with unspoken secrets. As he turned to leave, his eyes met hers for a fleeting moment, and she shivered, it came very fast, and she felt like she had seen pain.
Alone in the office, she kept thinking. Where was Joseph going? What was so urgent that it demanded his immediate attention? And more importantly, why didn't he take her? The gears in her mind started turning, something was amiss. She could feel it in the marrow of her bones.
As she stepped out to head home, a pair of burly guards materialized from the corners, they were Andrew's guards. She walked into his office and His eyes, cold and calculating, bore into her. "Report," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
Annie's mind raced. What could she say? She managed to stammer out a few incoherent sentences about the routine of the past few days, the lack of any significant developments, and the oddity of Joseph's absence earlier. Andrew nodded, his expression impassive. He reached into a drawer, pulling out a small, box. With a toss, he sent it towards her. "Place it on his phone," he ordered, "I trust you know the consequences of failure."
Annie's heart pounded, a monitoring device. The implications were terrifying. How was she supposed to plant this thing on Joseph's phone without being caught? The man always had his phone glued to his hand. It was a mission impossible. The weight of the situation settled on her shoulders. She had to find a way to balance her loyalty to her revenge plan and her need to survive. This was getting bigger than her.
Her mind raced, trying to find a way out of this predicament. She couldn't ignore the order, she needed a plan. As she left the office, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She had to find a way to plant the device without being caught, and she had to figure out how to use it to her advantage. She needed to find a way to gain Joseph's trust, to get close enough to plant the device without arousing suspicion.
That night, as she lay in bed, the weight of the day's events pressed down on her. Sleep eluded her, her mind kept racing with possibilities and fear. It was going to be a long night.
Joseph retreated to his private studio, a sanctuary away from the demands of his life. He stood at the easel, The revelation about how his Father truly died had shattered his world. He picked up a brush, dipped it in black paint, and began to move across the canvas. This wasn't the emotion that demanded a physical outlet, there was no urge to inflict pain. It was deeper, a slow burn that consumed from within. He yearned to scream, to lash out, but the words remained trapped in his throat, as he painted, his mind wandered to Raven.
Sex, was the usual solution to his desires, but he only wanted Raven, her intoxicating blend of innocence and defiance was tempting him. There was something about her, to touch her would be to cross a line, he would rather burn.