Chapter 96

A sharp tapping rang out, and just like that, the room darkened, leaving only the stage lit in a clean circle of light.

Babette stepped forward in a sleek, strapless cocktail dress, drawing everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" She beamed. "Welcome to my welcome home party. Starting today, I'm officially returning to work in my homeland.I hope that-"

Brandon stared at her as she kept talking.

Brandon had no siblings. Babette was just his younger cousin-Derek's youngest son's daughter-and a golden child of the Watson name. Even while studying abroad, she'd already taken on tough assignments for the family's international ventures. Now, fresh from an lvy League school in Flesta, she shone like a headline. She carried her status like she had earned every bit of it.

As Babette's polished speech went on, Millie caught quiet conversations humming around her.

"They say she got a full scholarship and graduated with straight A's. Master's in finance too. Talk about impressive."

"Yeah, and two years ago, when she was only twenty-three, she handled that high-stakes mess overseas. Flesta's gun laws aren't as tight as ours, so that shootout she dealt with? Real stuff. And she was the one calling the shots."

"No wonder she's the one everyone thinks of when they/ hear 'Miss Watson,' even though there are other girls in the family."

"Apparently, she built strong connections in Flesta-really strong ones. She's coming back with years of solid contacts. I'm curious what role she'll take up now."

Amid the soft murmuring, Brandon's phone buzzed again.

He glanced down, brows furrowed. It was a call from Eugene.

Brandon stood and stepped aside into a quieter corner before picking up.

"What is it?" he asked flatly.

Eugene's tone was low and tense. "Mr. Watson, some unfamiliar faces have been snooping around the company.We did some digging-they're with the police."

Brandon's frown deepened.

The police? "What's going on with the police at the Watson Group? Have you uncovered anything?"

For a business the size of Watson Group, dealing with law enforcement wasn't unusual. It came with the territory-usually established lawsuits or routine checks. But quiet digging like this, behind closed doors, was something else.

Most times, it was about things cloaked in silence, the kind that demanded quiet digging and careful finding out.

"They have been careful," Eugene said."Asking all sorts of questions-mostly personal ones. About you and your wife. About Miss Simpson. Nothing direct, just chatty...like they're trying to piece things together. But from the way their questions were shaped, it is clear their main target is currently Macaulay."

Macauley.

Brandon's eyes went cold.

Why him? Why would they be after him?

Was it about that incident?

"Any news on where he is?" Brandon asked coldly.

"Nothing solid, Mr. Watson," Eugene said, clearly rattled.lost precious time since they didn't report his missing in time. Most of the leads have dried up."

If the police went after Macauley and uncovered what had happened back then, it wouldn't just blow over.

It would set off a chain reaction.

Once silenced, stirring it again would mean little to help with the situation now, particularly because...

"Keep digging. Bring in more people if you have to. We need to find Macauley before they do."Brandon's tone was cold. "And track the police. I want to know what they're really up to."

He understood the police wouldn't spill anything as this was a confidential investigation. So, for now, all he could do was wait.

"Yes, sir!" Eugene got to it immediately.

After the call, Brandon's eyes flicked over to Millie sitting quietly in her seat.

Should he say something to her about it?

He hesitated.

As he sat thinking, he glanced at his phone and saw that Vivian had called-and left a message after."Brandon, the police reached out-they were asking questions about Macauley. What should I say?"

Another message followed. "I said some random stuff, and then told them I was unwell and sent them away, but they'll probably follow up. I'm heading over now, just to quickly sort out what we should say.Ten minutes max. I know you're at that wine tasting with her-we just really need to talk."

Even before he could process it fully, the phone lit up again. Vivian was calling.

Millie, still seated, turned slightly as if she felt something change. She caught Brandon in the aishis brows furrowed as he stared at his screen and mumbled something under his breath before swiftly stepping out.

What was that about?

She didn't know-and honestly, she didn't feel like chasing answers.

She came for two things.

First, to answer Brandon's questions about Ari. She had given him enough time to talk. That was done.

Second-Babette.

What was Babette really planning by inviting her over tonight?

Millie turned to the stage.

Babette was wrapping up her speech.

With a graceful wave of her hand, a group of waiters wheeled in a long table.

It held rows of glasses filled with gleaming wine, each catching the light like cut glass.

"This batch is from a private vineyard in Flesta," Babette said gently, her eyes barely grazing Millie."Some of these bottles are nearly impossible to find elsewhere. Even the owner's personal brew is included."

A small smile tugged at her lips.

"And one of these is especially dear to the owneshe continued. "The owner made this wine-his own creation.He named it 'Miss."

Miss?

Was there a story behind the name?

Millie reached for the brochure on the table. The picture and words pulled her in immediately.

"Miss" was a red wine made by the vineyard's owner four years ago.

"Four years? That's not exactly rare. Doesn't seem special."

"Sure, the rest of the wines here have names that carry weight-La Romanee-Conti, for instance.Something more fitting for someone like Miss Watson, don't you think?"

"She said this one was the vineyard's owner's personal recipe. Maybe the owner's someone big?"

"Could be. But who?"

While murmurs floated through the room, Millie simply stared at the brochure.

The name of wine stared back at her-"Miss."

A man from Flesta brewed this wine four years ago and named it himself, and now Babette wanted Millie to know. Everything started to slowly fall into place.

Millie lifted her head to Babette.

Babette was already looking at her.

Across the room, Brandon stood with Vivian, mid-conversation. He sensed something and looked back towards Millie.