At this time, the waiter brought the beverage for Darren. "Sir, your cappuccino."

“Thank you." Darren nodded.

Sabrina stirred her coffee, her gaze fixed on him. "Have you brought the contract today? I would like to read it."

“Of course," Darren replied, reaching into his jacket pocket to retrieve a folded contract. He nudged it towards her.

Sabrina picked it up.

The contract was a total of five pages. Darren had thought of all aspects. It was written in great detail without any Loopholes.

After reading the contract briefly, Sabrina put it on the table. "My case might be dangerous," she said after having a sip of coffee.

“Why don't you tell me about it?”

Sabrina scanned the cafe, keeping an eye out for potential eavesdroppers or individuals who seemed suspicious.

Darren sensed her unease. "I remember there's a restaurant with private rooms nearby. Why don’t we go there?"

“Okay.” Sabrina nodded in agreement.

The two made their way to the nearby restaurant with private rooms.

Sabrina sat across from Darren, ordering coffee and desserts.

Darren said, "Please speak freely, Miss Chavez."

Sabrina stirred the coffee for a moment while in thought. Then she asked, “Do you know me?"


"You're Tyrone Blakely's ex-wife," Darren answered. “If you hadn't mentioned the risks in your situation, I might have mistaken this for another of Mr. Blakely's escapades with a mistress."

Sabrina's expression remained impassive. “I have another identity besides being Tyrone’s ex. My father is Connor Chavez.”

Darren's face registered surprise, and he sat up straighter in his chair.

The memories flooded back. Darren had just graduated when news of Connor's death spread worldwide. He was young, passionate, and inspired by the esteemed journalist's work. Like countless others, the loss deeply saddened him.

During that period, speculation ran rampant, suggesting that Connor had stepped on too many toes and paid the price with his life.