The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Curtis acknowledged with a simple “Okay” before grabbing the nearby laptop and booting it up with swift precision.

Through the magic of the internet, the computer quickly synced with James‘ phone, and Curtis‘ fingers danced across the keyboard, prompting a satelite map to appear on the

screen.

As the red dot on the map blinked, Curtis zoomed in, narrowing the scope undis pinpointed Ashford. But when he tried to get a more exact location, he hit a wall. I as if the signal to Donald’s phone was being jammed

Curtis furrowed his brow, trying other methods to no avail. It was as if Donald’s phone signal had been swallowed by a black hole.

Wyatt, sensing Curtis‘ frustration, peered at the computer screen. Other than the blinking red dot, there was no street information. “What’s the deal here?”

Curtis shook his head. “Can’t get a precise fix”

“Huh… Wasn’t Donald flying solo? He’s not exactly a techie, so how come we can’t pinpoint him?” Wyatt’s confusion was palpable.

“I’m not sure. I’ve tried several tricks, but nothing’s working, Curtis replied, his lips pressed in a thin line, his expression solemn. Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Wyatt sat up straight, his voice heavy with concern, “Why’s this happening? He isn’t in trouble, is he? Otherwise, he wouldn’t just randomly shoot a message to James.”

Knowing Donald as they did, he wouldn’t leave any digital breadcrumbs if he didn’t want to be found.

The text was… suspicious, to say the least.

“It’s probably not that dire. Donald’s general whereabouts are in the city. If there was any fuss, my guys would’ve noticed, Curtis seemed less worried than Wyatt.

“Fair point. But this hidden location…” Wyatt eyed Curtis with a hint of skepticism. “Curtis, is your hacker mojo fading? Since that museum heist and the recent firewall fiasco, when have you actually nailed the bad guy?” Wyatt shook his head. His admiration for Curtis‘ computer wizardry was waning. He was seriously questioning whether Curtis‘ global ranking as the seventh–best was just hot air.

“Curtis, you need to up your game. You can’t rest on your laurels, or you’ll be left in the dust,” Wyatt said, patting Curtis‘ shoulder with a mix of concern and mockery.

Curtis‘ patience was hanging by a thread. He took a deep breath, chose to ignore Wyatt’s jabs, and turned to James. There’s likely a jammer or some kind of signal interference where Donald is, which is why we can’t get a fix.”

After a slight pause, Curtis added with a tinge of regret, “Too bad his phone’s off now, or I could’ve tried a different hack.”

Under the bright lights, James‘ handsome face exuded a lazy charm, his deep–set eyes inscrutable, his relaxed posture oozing an air of inherent nobility. He spoke nonchalantly, “He’ll show up when he’s had his fun.”

Wyatt, who had a PhD in Donald’s moods, confidently added, “True. Based on Donald’s knack for sudden mood swings, he’ll probably show up on James‘ doorstep within a couple of days.”

Curtis gave Wyatt a sidelong glance. The guy might not be good for much, but when it came to predicting Donald’s temper, he was never off the mark.

“So, no need to rally the troops. We’ll just wait it out,” Wyatt concluded.