GoodReadIn a state of desperation, Getty sought Alexander's affirmation, her heart pounding with the fear of potential
embarrassment. Alexander, upon catching her gaze, quickly averted his eyes. He offered a nod in Preston's
direction, uttering a simple, "Yes." A wave of relief washed over Getty, her anxiety replaced with a hint of
complacency.
"Really?" Preston questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion. The knocking didn't seem like something a dog
could do.
"Why are you still standing here? Go downstairs!" Mr. Getty commanded, his voice harsh and filled with authority.
He shot a meaningful glance at his son, who nodded in understanding before exiting the room. Meanwhile, back
in the car, Quinn struggled with her collar, gasping for breath. The car was thick with smoke, making it
increasingly difficult for her to breathe.
She kept her mouth agape, desperately trying to draw in air, but the limited oxygen supply caused her lungs to
burn.
Preston returned to the car, knocking on the window once more. "Is there someone inside?"
Quinn turned to look at him, watching as he bent down to peer through the window.
Unfortunately, the glass was tinted too dark to see through.
With great difficulty, Quinn lifted her hand and knocked against the window.
Perhaps it was the sweat that had accumulated on her palm, but when she pressed her hand against the glass,
Preston managed to catch a glimpse of it.
The sudden appearance of the hand startled him, and he watched as it slowly slid down the glass.
"What the hake..."
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It was then that Preston realized there was a real human inside the car!
He glanced around, picking up a stone with the intention of breaking the car lock. But upon noticing the plate
number, he hesitated.
Finally, he dialed his buddy's number.
"Quick! I'm giving you five minutes to get here! It's about someone's life!"
Before the person on the other end could even respond, he hung up.
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After pocketing his phone, he crouched down to examine the lock. He pulled out a tool from his pocket and
fiddled with the keyhole.
Realizing this wasn't his forte, he decided to wait for his friend. No more than five minutes later, his friend
arrived, work-box in hand.
"Dude, the bug's installed in the boss's car. From now on, no matter who he's stepping out with, you'll know first
thing..."
Preston slapped the back of his head. "Be careful with your words. Can you get this open?"
That was the real reason he was here tonight, he wanted to rig his father's car with bugging and surveillance
devices.
His mother had been paranoid lately, insisting his father had a mistress and they were on the brink of divorce.
She even pressured him to gather evidence so that his dad, Floyd, would leave with nothing. Thus, she had
dragged him into this messy business.
The young man touched the lock and said, "A Maybach, huh? Tough one, but I'll give it a shot."
"Move, don't block my way."
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This area was too exposed, while the other side offered scover thanks to the greenery, perfect for their
clandestine operation.
The young man carried his toolkit
around to the PAREN om
Sfpiepion fs art tinkering with
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Preston stood by, keeping a watchful eye on him.
After burning through a few
cigarettes and pRRNG atnaost half
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spree) patiently. "You
got it or what?" The content is on
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"Almost there, almost there." The young man wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Twisting the tool to the right, he heard a "click" and finally exhaled a long sigh of relief.
"It's open!"
Preston rushed over, bent down to peer inside, and was shocked by what he saw.
There indeed was a woman lying
inside, clad in a white sweater, With a
red apron arqund hot dist Hier
oBnaiNad cundone, and stray
strands of hair fell messily around
her face. The content is on
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