Zachary’s expression was like a sheet of ice as he brushed past her.

Charlotte stared at his retreating back, a bewildered look on her face. Did he just... bump into me on purpose? This hallway was massive, and he was flanked by four elite bodyguards who usually acted like human shields. There was more than enough room for a small army to pass. Don't tell me a powerful CEO has nothing better to do than play petty games with a junior staffer?

"Don’t you watch where you're going, Charlotte?!" Wesley’s roar snapped her back to reality. He was red-faced, his veins bulging with performative anger.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Charlotte gestured meekly toward the elevator where Zachary had disappeared. "It was the President... he bumped into me, and I lost my balance..."

"You’re actually trying to blame—"

"Mr. Holt," Ben interrupted, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register. He stared Wesley down. "Are you implying that this was Mr. Nacht’s fault?"

"No! No, no, no! I wouldn't dream of it!" Wesley’s bravado evaporated instantly. He bowed so low his forehead nearly hit his knees. "I meant her... no, I meant myself! I’m the one who’s blind! I’m the one who didn’t see the path!"

"That's more like it." Ben nodded with a terrifying lack of emotion. "Watch your step next time, Mr. Holt. Especially in a fine restaurant. It’s a sin to waste good food."

"Understood! Completely understood!" Wesley squeaked, keeping his head down.

Watching Wesley squirm in such pathetic embarrassment, Charlotte felt a tiny spark of triumph in her chest. Finally, this creep has hit a wall. With the President’s assistant personally reprimanding him, Wesley probably wouldn't dare breathe in her direction for at least a week.

Inside the elevator, Zachary’s sharp eyes caught the flicker of a secret smile on Charlotte’s lips. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his own mouth.

His phone buzzed the moment the doors slid shut. He answered with a single word: "Speak."

"Mr. Nacht, we’ve neutralized Pardus. However, the chip isn't on him. He must have ditched it or passed it off. We've tried every interrogation technique in the book, but the man is a stone wall. We may need to escalate to more... terminal measures."

"A man of his training laughs at torture," Zachary replied, his gaze focused on the floor numbers as they lit up. "Pull the surveillance from the Grand Plaza. Check every frame. See if he had any contact, however brief, with anyone in that crowd."

"Understood, sir. I’ll have the tech team on it immediately."

By the time Charlotte made it home, the savory aroma of Mrs. Berry’s cooking filled the apartment. The family of five sat down for a rare, peaceful dinner.

Fifi, the family’s spirited parrot, flapped its wings and landed on Ellie’s shoulder, nuzzling against her chubby, sun-kissed cheek. Ellie tried to offer it a choice melon seed, but the bird didn't chirp with its usual enthusiasm. Instead, it shook its head, letting out a series of strange, rhythmic hiccups.

Ellie looked at Fifi’s untouched food tray, her lower lip trembling. "Mommy, Fifi hasn't eaten anything since last night. She keeps hiccuping and looking sad. Is she sick?"

"Let me see." Charlotte stroked the bird’s feathered head. Fifi looked listless, its eyes lacking their usual mischievous glint.

"Maybe she’s still stressed from the chaos at the mall the other day?" Mrs. Berry suggested. "Poor thing probably needs a checkup. Take her to the vet tonight."

"Good idea," Charlotte agreed.

Jamie sat quietly, his brows furrowed in deep thought. Finally, he couldn't keep it in any longer. "Mommy... actually, Fifi ate a gold thingy. That’s why she feels yucky."

"A gold thingy?" Charlotte blinked, pausing with her chopsticks.

"Yeah! It was this big—" Jamie held up his tiny fingers, indicating something the size of his pinky. "It looked like a little gold brick, but tiny."

"Jamie, we don't have anything like that in the house," Charlotte said gently.

"It wasn't from the house! At the mall, a man in a black mask gave it to me..." Jamie began to explain, his voice full of earnestness.

Robbie, the most pragmatic of the triplets, rolled his eyes with the weary patience of an old man. "Jamie, have you been watching those 'Secret Agent' cartoons again?"

"I'm telling the truth!" Jamie’s face turned bright red with frustration as he recounted the mysterious encounter in detail.

"Hahaha!" Mrs. Berry chuckled, patting Jamie’s hand. "Oh, Jamie, you have such a wonderful imagination. You should write books!"

"Cartoons. Definitely too many cartoons," Robbie muttered, returning to his rice.

"Why does nobody believe me?" Jamie’s eyes welled with tears as he looked at Charlotte. "Mommy, you believe me, right?"

"Of course I do, sweetie," Charlotte said, though her tone was the one mothers use to soothe a fantasy. She piled more food onto his plate. "We’ll take Fifi to the vet right after dinner, okay?"

"Yeah! The vet first!" Ellie cheered, her only concern being her feathered friend's health.

Jamie pouted, feeling deeply misunderstood. Just wait, he thought stubbornly. When that gold thingy comes out of Fifi's poop, everyone is going to have to say I was right!

After dinner, the four of them headed to the local vet. After a quick examination, the doctor diagnosed Fifi with a simple case of indigestion.

"She probably swallowed something she shouldn't have," the vet explained, writing out a prescription. "These drops will stimulate her bowel movements. She should be back to her usual self by morning."

Jamie just crossed his arms and huffed. Indigestion? Just wait until tomorrow!