It didn’t take Silas long to dig up the phone number of Reuben Clarke, Bryce’s current manager, since Polaris Entertainment’s internal website openly listed the contact information of all their artist managers.

Lucy quickly snatched up the desk phone and dialed the number Silas provided. The ringing dragged on, and only on the fifth chime did someone finally pick up. A hoarse, groggy voice answered,

“Hello… Who the hell is this?”

Lucy straightened her tone and spoke formally, rattling off a practiced introduction,

“Good evening, Mr. Clarke. This is Detective Lucy Edna from the Special Circumstances Investigation Unit, SCIU, Los Angeles Police Department. We’re conducting an investigation related to your client, Bryce Holloway, and we hope you can assist us by providing some information.”

There was a brief pause. Then… click. The line went dead.

Lucy blinked, lowering the receiver and shaking her head.

“He hung up. Probably thought I was a scammer.”

Silas exhaled helplessly. Computers were his domain, not people, and he had no idea how to salvage the situation.

“Captain, maybe we should just go through the proper channels,” he suggested.

“There’s no time for that!” Alex snapped, snatching the desk phone from Lucy and redialing Reuben’s number several times in quick succession.

At last, the other end picked up again, this time with a furious outburst, voice thick with curses,

“Motherfucking scammers! Can’t you assholes let a guy fucking sleep?!”

Fearing Reuben would hang up again, Alex immediately cut in, his voice sharp, commanding, and urgent,

“Listen carefully. I’m a police officer. I don’t need your personal details, I don’t need your bank account, and I sure as hell don’t need your money. What I do need is confirmation of your client’s safety - Bryce Holloway. A highly dangerous fugitive has escaped and is targeting him for revenge. You need to call Bryce right now, check his GPS, his home security cameras, whatever it takes. I need to know if Bryce is safe. Units are already being dispatched to his residence for protection.”

Alex’s words jolted Reuben fully awake.

“W-what? Are you… are you serious?”

Alex raised his voice.

“Don’t ask, just do it! Call Bryce right now and check if he’s safe!”

“I-I’ll call him right away. Officer, please hold on.”

Five minutes later, the desk phone rang. Lucy snatched it up, then immediately passed it to Alex.

On the other end, Reuben’s voice was trembling with real panic this time,

“I… I called him, texted him, even tried FaceTime, but Bryce isn’t picking up. No response at all. I… I can’t reach him.”

Alex gripped the receiver tighter, his voice dropping low.

“Has this ever happened before? Like this, no calls answered, no messages returned?”

“No. Almost never. I know his schedule, he’s supposed to be home tonight, resting. He’s not the type to go out messing around…”

Alex’s tone sharpened.

“Then is there any other way? Can you track his location, or access his home security cameras?”

Reuben swallowed hard.

“N-no… I can’t. I don’t have access to his private cameras. Every artist has their own personal security team, completely separate from the management company. I only handle contracts and scheduling.”

Alex drew in a deep breath, his eyes darkening.

“Fine. Hang up, but don’t leave your phone. If Bryce gets in touch, you call us immediately.”

“Yes, I… I understand.”

“Wait, Reuben. Do you know Dr. Julian Wills?”

“Uh… no, I don’t. Who is he?”

Alex didn’t answer, instead pressed on,

“What about Bryce? Does he know him? Has he ever seen a therapist?”

Reuben, clearly confused, still cooperated.

“I don’t know if Bryce knows him, but I’ve never heard him mention the name. Bryce’s mental state is solid, he’s never had the need to see a therapist.”

Alex gave a curt grunt.

“Mm. Got it. Pray he’s okay. We’re on our way.”

After hanging up, Alex immediately told Lucy,

“Get in touch with central command. Request a patrol unit at Bryce Holloway’s address to conduct a welfare check. I want to make sure he’s safe.”

Twenty minutes later, the phone rang again. Lucy hurried to pick up, exchanged a few quick words, then turned to Alex, her face growing more tense by the second.

“The patrol team just called,” she said urgently. “They spoke with Bryce’s private security. According to them, Bryce left his house at nine p.m., alone, without saying where he was going. When the officers arrived to check, the security team tried contacting him but got no response.”

Alex shot up from his chair, his voice tight with urgency.

“Did they give any more details?”

Lucy nodded, relaying the report.

“Bryce had no plans to go out tonight. But exactly at nine o’clock, he suddenly drove away. When the head of his security team offered to escort him, Bryce refused and didn’t say where he was headed.”

Up to this point, everything was still only Alex’s unproven speculation. But his instincts told him he had to prepare for the worst-case scenario.

He grabbed a marker, wrote out a timeline from 7:30 to 9:00 on the whiteboard, and began reasoning it through.

If Julian really had been provoked by Adrian’s words and decided to target a third victim, then he would have had only a very short window to plan and lure the victim out.

According to the information Reuben provided, Julian and Bryce had never met. So in that narrow span of time, what could Julian have done to make a stranger - especially a celebrity - leave his home voluntarily without his security detail?

Was it coercion? Threats? Or some kind of lure?

Alex suddenly swung around, his eyes sharp as they locked on Silas.

“Can you access Bryce’s social media accounts or his email?” he pressed. “I need to know if, between 7:30 and 9:00, he contacted anyone, received any messages, or got any unusual calls.”

Silas froze. He glanced at the whiteboard, then back at his laptop screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard but not typing.

“We… don’t have a search warrant or subpoena,” he hesitated. “If I do this, it’s illegal access to private data. We could get sued, or the evidence might not even hold up in court.”

Alex let out a laugh, tinged with mockery.

“Back then, when you illegally hacked into the Ministry of Education’s system, you didn’t need anyone’s authorization either.”

With his dark past dragged into the open, Silas scratched his head awkwardly.

“Listen,” Alex lowered his voice, though it was no less cutting. “Tonight we’ve already broken the rules more than twice. One more time won’t make a difference. I only need to confirm my theory, I don’t intend to use it as evidence in court. Besides, you won’t tell, Lucy won’t tell, so who’s ever going to know? You can slip in and out without leaving a trace, can’t you?”

Silas looked up, locking eyes with his captain. Then he gave a small but firm nod.

“Alright. But I’ll need a few minutes.”

“Do it now,” Alex ordered. “We’re running out of time.”

“If we go down, we all go down,” Silas muttered, his fingers beginning to dance across the keyboard.

It took him only a few minutes to bypass the two-step verification on Bryce’s email account, then move on to his personal Facebook through the auto-login link.

“Got it,” Silas said, his eyes glued to the screen.

He entered Bryce’s inbox, scrolling quickly through countless promotional messages, interview requests from magazines, and fanpage notes. Suddenly, his hand froze on the mouse.

“There’s a strange conversation here,” he said. “The sender used a clone account named ‘Entertainment News.’ No profile picture, no mutual friends.”

“Show me,” Alex commanded.

Silas expanded the chat window, and at once the air in the room grew taut as a drawn wire. The first message had appeared at 7:58 PM. The exchange went as follows:

Entertainment News: “We happened to get hold of a diary and a few photos. Still debating whether we should send them to the tabloids or reach out to you directly.”

Attached were two images. The first showed a handwritten journal page. The second was a blurry shot of two shirtless men - faces unseen - but one of them bore a tiger tattoo on his left shoulder.

Just five minutes later, Bryce replied.

Bryce Holloway: “How much money do you want?”

Entertainment News: “$400,000, in cash.”

Bryce Holloway: “Where’s the handoff?”

Entertainment News: “I’ll give you the address. Bring the money, and don’t even think about calling the police. Once I’ve counted it, I’ll send you the item by courier.”

Bryce Holloway: “Do you think I’m an idiot? Face-to-face. One hand with the money, the other with the item. No copies allowed.”

It took more than five minutes for Entertainment News to respond. Bryce, on the other hand, grew more and more impatient, urging them several times. Finally, the other side replied.

Entertainment News: “Fine. But you don’t call the cops, and you don’t bring bodyguards. If anything happens to me, my partners will blow this up immediately.”

Bryce Holloway: “Fine.”

Entertainment News: “9:30 tonight. Saffron Lounge & Bar, VIP Room 7.

2nd Floor – Westfield Century Plaza

10250 Santa Monica Blvd.”

Bryce Holloway: “Fine.”

The three of them huddled together in the office, reading the string of messages on the screen. Their expressions grew tighter and tighter.

“Enlarge that photo, let’s see what it says,” Alex said.

Silas immediately clicked it open. The image of a handwritten page filled the screen, each line in blue ink standing out clearly before their eyes.

“Date: … / … / …

Today Bryce confessed to me, and I was truly happy.

He’s such a good person, he’s helped me so much ever since I first set foot in LA. In the beginning, when I didn’t have any income yet, he even lent me money so I could send some back to Florida. He’s warm, like an angel!

He said he wants us to strive together, and that one day we’ll become the brightest celebrity couple under the Hollywood sky.

I’m really lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend.”