Now Willie stayed in the company.

It was not because he was a coward or something, but because it was hard to get along with Isaac.

Everything around his life was as cold.

He gave people a sense of oppression all the time.

That constant source of oppression made working with him an agonizing ordeal.

Alick, unsure of Isaac's intentions, found himself compelled to obey all his orders.

Upon his return to the auction, Nelson had slipped away through the back exit.

He had been too Late!

Apparently, Nelson had anticipated his arrival.

In an effort to protect Camila's secret, Nelson had already alerted the relevant authorities.

He instructed them to claim that the surveillance camera was malfunctioning if anyone inquired about the footage that night.

Nelson's familiarity with the auction organizers allowed him to manipulate the situation effortlessly.

Alick returned empty-handed, his disappointment overwhelming.

He dreaded facing Isaac, knowing he had failed in his task.

However, escape was not an option; he was bound to follow Isaac's orders!

Resigned to his fate, he reluctantly made his way back to the hotel. Isaac, clad in a white bathrobe, sat on the sofa, the open neckline exposing his elongated neck, reminiscent of a seductive hero leaping out of the pages of a comic book.

He reclined, trying to relax.

A bottle of his daily medicine was resting on the table beside him. The bottle hadn't been moved.

He hadn't eaten a morsel.

Alick approached him cautiously, calling out, "Mr. Johnston."

Without deigning to meet his gaze, Isaac issued a low, commanding voice, "Hand it over."

A distressed Alick confessed, "I couldn't retrieve it. The surveillance camera was reportedly faulty.”

Isaac's eyebrows raised, fixing Alick with an enigmatic stare.

Alick shivered, feeling an eerie chill crawl up his spine.

As a result, his hair stood on edge!