Presley mulled it over for a while before voicing the doubts in his heart, "You''re not here for a cure?"


    "Why would I ask you for a cure?" Mirabe flicked an imaginary speck of dust off her sleeve, as if she just realized what he meant, then added, "Oh, you mean the medicine for James''s secret ailment, right?"


    Presley pursed his lips, now more confused about Mirabe''s intentions, and for some reason, her manner of speaking irked him even more.


    It felt as though things were slipping out of his control.


    Just then, the ringtone from Presley''s cell phone in his pocket cut through the moment, making his nerves tighten for a split second.


    It was Dane calling.


    Presley nced at the screen and answered the call.


    "Vice President, I have news that James isn''t seriously ill, and his chronic condition hasn''t rpsed," Dane''s grave voice came through the phone.


    Presley''s eyes widened, and his grip on the phone unconsciously tightened. "Is that true?"


    If James wasn''t sick, then spreading rumors about his illness... was it a ploy to draw someone out?


    "It''s very likely."


    Hearing Dane''s words, Presley


    looked up at Mirabe, who sat


    unflustered and evidently prepa


    and Connecting it with what she had just said, his mind started to whirl.


    Once a w is revealed and several clues are linked together, the hidden truth bes much easier to deduce.


    Dane was still talking, but Presley was no longer listening, only the fact that ''James is fine'' filled his mind.


    After all these


    cautious years of being


    and never exposing


    vulnerability, he hadn''


    miscalcte this time. belongs to


    Presley ended the call and looked at Mirabe again, "James is fine?"


    Mirabe nodded, not bothering to hide anything, "If he were in trouble, do you think things would be this calm?"


    Presley staggered slightly, but quickly collected himself, "So, what are you implying now?"


    "Nothing much, just asking after someone," Mirabe replied lightly.


    "Asking after someone? Who?" Presley''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    "Where is the person backing you now?"


    garabe tilted her head, her


    gaze on Presley no longer light but sharp, as if prating all secrets.


    Facing Mirabe''s gaze, Presley felt a chill down his spine, even more intense


    than the feeling he got from seeing Leon.