Hidden Desires - Family Secrets-Chapter 206 The scent on Betty now was unfamiliar... Part2

I walked into Luna’s villa, expecting her usual warm greeting, but only the butler was there to meet me.

Normally, just standing at the door would trigger the surveillance cameras, and Luna would be there to welcome me inside.

"Is Luna around?" I asked the butler.

"Miss hasn’t been back for several days now. She left shortly after you last visited and hasn’t returned..." The butler stood there, his demeanor restrained as he spoke.

"I’ll give her a call then..." Despite my reluctance, I knew I needed her help.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Luna’s number, only to be greeted by the sound of a powered-off phone.

Was Luna deliberately avoiding me?

"Does Miss have any other contact numbers?" I asked, setting the phone down with a sigh.

"No, sir. Miss left a message before she departed. She asked you not to look for her. She said she would contact you when the time is right. Also, she left something for you; just a moment..." The butler walked over to a cabinet, retrieved a box, and handed it to me.

Taking the box, I left the villa, feeling suddenly helpless.

It was the first time I truly felt how much I needed Luna.

What was going on with Luna?

Why wouldn’t she meet me?

In the past, she always seemed thrilled when I visited, but this time, why the cold shoulder and the powered-off phone?

Was I about to be abandoned by both Betty and Luna?

Back at the office, I placed the box on my desk, feeling as if I had lost my soul.

After calming down a bit, I reassured myself that perhaps Luna had some important matters to attend to and needed to disappear for a while.

It wasn’t unusual for a woman of her stature.

Curious, I slowly opened the box.

Inside, I found something the size of a USB drive, a manual, and a letter.

I opened the letter first, revealing elegant handwriting: "Justin, I had to leave for a while. Don’t worry, and wait for my return. Also, this USB drive contains many important files, and the manual has a lot of information. But I urge you, do not look into it unless absolutely necessary, as I fear it might hurt you again. I promise you, I haven’t seen any of its contents.

This USB drive is not only a storage device but also a key to activate a surveillance system I installed at your place without your consent. I apologize for not asking you first. No one has seen the footage yet; it’s meant for your eyes only.

Don’t be mad, I’ll make it up to you with a gift when we meet again.

...Love, Luna."

So, Luna had installed a surveillance system in my house.

I picked up the USB drive.

Had Luna discovered my own surveillance setup?

Holding the drive, I felt a mix of anticipation and gratitude.

Could I finally find the answers I was looking for?

I plugged the USB-shaped device into my laptop, taking advantage of the quiet before the workday began...

Before I could explore the contents of the USB drive, my boss called, demanding I come to the office immediately.

After hanging up, I sighed, unplugged the USB drive, and placed it back in its box, locking it in my desk drawer.

For some reason, I felt a bit relieved.

Maybe I was truly afraid of seeing something I didn’t want to see.

I headed to my boss’s office, where he handed me a task that consumed all my attention back at my desk, pushing the USB drive out of my mind.

The work was urgent, and as time passed, I became deeply engrossed in it.

By the time I finished, it was past the usual quitting time, and I was just five minutes away from my usual time to head home.

After sending the spreadsheets to my boss’s OA system, I stretched, exhausted.

Glancing at the clock, my thoughts drifted back to the USB drive.

I considered lying to Betty about working late so I could watch the contents of the drive.

Curiosity was getting the better of me.

As I hesitated over calling Betty, my phone rang—it was her.

I had been indecisive for several minutes already.

"Honey, come home for dinner. Michael is leaving tomorrow morning, and tonight is our last meal together. I’ve made lots of food, and we’re both waiting for you..." Betty chattered away before I could even speak.

"Okay, I got held up with work. I’ll be home in twenty minutes..." Her words caught me off guard.

I had been so distracted lately that I’d forgotten Michael was leaving tomorrow.

After hanging up, I sighed and glanced at the locked drawer.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

There would be no chance to view the USB drive today.

I got dressed and walked to the office door, taking one last look back—not sure if I was looking at the office or at the drawer.

The walk home was filled with mixed emotions.

When I opened the door to the familiar sight of my home, it suddenly felt strange.

The table was set with a feast, and Betty and Michael sat quietly waiting for me.

"Sorry, I’m late..." I muttered, unsure of what else to say.

I usually didn’t apologize when coming home; after all, Betty wasn’t a stranger.

Maybe the apology was more for Michael.

It was an instinctive apology, perhaps because I felt Michael was a stranger?

"Hurry and wash up; the food’s still warm..." Betty quickly handed me my clothes and urged me on, her face showing a hint of concern, sensing something was off with me tonight.

"Dad, let’s have a drink tonight..." Michael suggested at the dinner table, where I noticed a bottle of expensive-looking liquor among the dishes.

"Michael insisted on buying it. He said he’s never had a drink with you, and since he’s leaving tomorrow, he wants to make sure you guys celebrate properly tonight..." Betty explained, perhaps noticing my puzzled expression.

"Alright, I don’t usually drink, but I’ll make an exception tonight..." Given Michael and Betty’s insistence, it seemed I had no excuse to refuse.

I rarely drank, as being a journalist, drinking was frowned upon—loose lips sink ships, and confidentiality is a crucial instinct for a journalist.

But I actually had a high tolerance for alcohol, perhaps a natural ability, possibly linked to the tough environment I grew up in, which gave me a strong resistance to alcohol.

At the dinner table, Michael and I clinked glasses frequently.

The liquor was strong, likely vodka, judging by its potent taste.