Chapter 1292


    "No, it''s always been Mr. Elliot who took the initiative to contact them. They only had Mr. Elliot''s mobile


    number.


    When I used their phone to call him, it was switched off."


    Gordon paused before he continued, ‘I sent a message to Mr. Elliot from their WhatsApp, tricked him


    into thinking we have Ms. Be, but he didn''t respond"


    “From what you''re saying, he probably guessed that Bowen and his team have fallen into our hands.


    He won''t respond anymore."


    “Wait, what?" Gordon was taken aback, "You mean, I blew our cover?"


    He had hoped to lure Elliot out, but it seemed he had been discovered sooner than expected.


    And here he was, thinking he had pulled it off without a hitch.


    “The hospital called to inform that Be left, follow her but don''t let here to harm,’ Bard instructed


    casually, “As for Elliot, I''ll have someone else look into this matter."


    "Yes, sir!"


    Gordon took his leave immediately after receiving his orders.


    Arabe took a taxi to Wach Town. The driver kindly warned her to be careful as it wasn''t a safe ce


    for a young woman.


    Arabe thanked him for his caution, paid the fare, and got out of the car. The sky was dark. It looked


    like a storm was about to hit.


    The town looked run-down and dpidated, the narrow streets were messy and chaotic. Straggling


    pedestrians, who looked poor and weather-beaten, walked by. There were beggars too, unlike the


    typically pitiful ones, these beggars were aggressive, snatching things from the weak and elderly.


    Arabe didn''t want to stir up unnecessary trouble so she decided to mind her own business.


    After exiting the cab, she put on her hoodie to blend in with the crowd and followed the signs into a


    dark narrow alley.


    The alley was dim and decrepit, the dirty cobblestones were covered in green moss. There was a


    drunken husband yelling at his wife, a group of young men stealing from an elderly person, and a man


    beating a child.


    As Arabe walked past each house, she could hear different sounds and see different scenes.


    Some elderly people, starved and frail, sat in front of their homes begging for food.


    There were also children who had died from illness, wrapped in a nket and left on the doorstep, their


    family members crying around them.


    The narrow alley ended with stone stairs that led upwards. After about a dozen steps and a left turn


    followed by another seven or eight steps, she was in another dimly lit alley.


    The town’s alleys were intricate andbyrinthine, exuding a sense of antiquity and nostalgia.


    Arabe followed the worn and broken house numbers and continued forward.


    A group of smoking young women noticed her clean clothes and shoes. Even though they couldn''t


    identify the brand, the clothes looked nice. So, they decided to follow Arabe.


    Arabe pretended to take out a pack of tissues from her pocket and something fell out. One of the


    women quickly picked it up, saw a note aboutte-stage cancer and a debt of twenty thousand euros,


    This belongs ? N?velDra/ma.Org.


    and instantly signaled the others to abandon their pursuit.


    Arabe walked into another alley. A few young men saw her fresh and refined face under the hat and


    started following her.


    One of them whistled and asked, "Are you from Solterra? I''m from Solterra too."


    Arabe ignored them and didn''t look back. She was just seven or eight houses away from the hiding


    ce of Cornell, the husband of the female stall owner. But the young men didn''t seem to want to give


    up.


    Especially the scruffy blond at the front, he blocked Arabe''s way with a pose he thought was


    charming and suave. He raised his chin and asked, “What''s your name?"


    Arabe resisted the urge to punch him and coldly said, "I don''t have any money. Get out of my way.”