CHAPTER 4

As the tension rose in the room, I couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My palms were sweaty, and my heart pounded in my chest as I prepared to confront Knight Wayne, the enigmatic CEO of the Forte company.

"What!! How can the case be closed?" I exclaimed, my frustration boiling over as I slammed my hand on the table in front of the officer.

"I'm sorry, but some people came over telling us to close down the case," he replied, his tone apologetic but his words doing little to quell my anger. With a swift grab of my bag, I stormed away from him, my mind racing with thoughts of retribution.

"I will be back, and you will provide me with those who came behind my back to close down the case," I declared as I stormed out of the room, my determination palpable in every step I took.

As I entered Brenda's car, her words of caution grated on my nerves. "Come on, girl, I told you to forget about this case," she chided, her tone infuriatingly dismissive.

"Forget it? How can you tell me to forget it? My father can't just die without revenge," I shot back, my voice laced with frustration and anger.

Brenda attempted to calm me down, but her efforts only served to fuel my fire. "Alright, please calm down," she urged, reaching for the steering wheel in an attempt to steady my frenzied emotions.

But my patience was wearing thin, and I couldn't contain my frustration any longer. "Is that why I asked you to lend me money, and you didn't agree, huh?" I demanded, my voice sharp with accusation.

Brenda's response only served to stoke the flames of my anger further. "Come on, babe, my anonymous boyfriend won't allow me to. I don't have access, I told you," she explained, her words falling on deaf ears as my frustration reached its peak.

As we sped towards the BBC headquarters, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within me. "Can you please drive faster? This is my first time at work as a journalist on BBC," I urged, my excitement palpable in every word.

Brenda's reassurance did little to quell my nerves as we arrived at our destination. "Yes, baby, at least I tried to get you a job," she offered, her words a feeble attempt to assuage my anxiety. 

 "Thank you, I'm sorry for snapping earlier, okay?" I apologized, realizing I had overreacted.

"It's fine. Let me drop you off and go see Liam. He must be missing his aunt," she suggested with a smile.

"I'm starting to feel jealous. He seems to like you more than me," I teased, and we shared a laugh.

“Oh C'mon i could never compete with his mum, his first love,” she teased.

"So, is my outfit alright?" I inquired.

"Yes, it looks perfect for a journalist," she reassured me.

"Just stay focused. In this field, journalists often face temptations like bribes that can compromise their integrity. Promise me you won't succumb to that," she advised seriously.

As a message appeared on my phone, I read it aloud: "Hello, Arianna Fletcher, your first assignment is to interview the CEO of Forte Company. Come now for your practice question."

"The Forte Company? Oh my," she exclaimed, momentarily distracted from her driving.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"I'm just envious. Forte Company ranks as the second wealthiest in all of New York," she explained.

"Really?"

"Yes, darling, just be cautious," she cautioned, her warning puzzling me.

"I will. Thank you, dear," I replied gratefully.

As we arrived at the BBC headquarters, I bid her farewell with a wave.

"Say hi to Liam for me,tell him mummy misses him already," I whispered.

"Let him know mommy will be home late," I added in a hushed tone.

"Shh, don't let anyone know you're a mom. You look so young," she teased with a wink. "I know, fine," I conceded, my voice softening as I offered a half-hearted apology.

Gratitude mingled with trepidation as I stepped out of the car and made my way towards the BBC headquarters. "Bye!" I waved at Brenda, a sense of determination driving me forward as I prepared to embark on this new chapter of my life.

Little did I know, the challenges that awaited me would push me to the very brink of my abilities, testing my courage and resolve in ways I could never have imagined. 

I stepped into the bustling BBC headquarters, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As I made my way to my boss's office, my mind buzzed with anticipation for the task ahead.

"Come in," my boss's voice called out, and I entered, only to find a man wearing a mask seated before him. The sight gave me pause, but I quickly pushed aside my unease and greeted them both.

"Good day, sir," I said, trying to maintain my composure despite the presence of the mysterious masked figure.

"Good day, Mrs. Arianna. Kindly take a seat," my boss gestured, and I obliged, taking a seat beside the masked man whose piercing gaze seemed to bore into my very soul.

Unsettled by his intense scrutiny, I tried to focus on the task at hand. "I'm sorry, I'm not comfortable with the look," I confessed, feeling a sense of unease creeping over me.

But the masked man's response only served to deepen my confusion. "I love your courage, then," he remarked cryptically, his words leaving me with more questions than answers.

As my boss broached the topic of my upcoming assignment, I couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu that washed over me. Something about the masked man seemed eerily familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen him before.

When my boss mentioned the name "Knight Wayne," a shiver ran down my spine. The pieces began to click into place as I realized the gravity of the situation I was in.

"I'm sorry, who is that?" I asked, trying to maintain an air of innocence despite the growing sense of dread building within me.

But the masked man's response left no room for ambiguity. "Don't tell me you don't know who Knight is," he demanded, his tone laced with thinly veiled aggression.

Caught off guard by his hostility, I struggled to formulate a response. "Oh, I'm sorry if I'm unable to know who you are talking about," I replied tentatively, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of the situation.

Thankfully, my boss intervened, offering an explanation that only served to deepen my unease. "Oh, sorry, Mr. Win, she is out of state. She just came back and never knew when the Forte company's success came up during the four years," he explained, his words doing little to assuage my growing sense of foreboding.

"Here, take this," he handed me the object. As I accepted it, a nagging feeling stirred within me—his voice, his handwriting, all seemed too familiar. I racked my brain, attempting to place where I'd encountered them before. Suddenly, a chilling thought crossed my mind: "Could he be the one who murdered my father?" I muttered to myself. Recalling the masked assailant from that dreadful night, I noticed the distinctive marks on his neck.

"Think, Arianna, you can't let this opportunity slip away," I urged myself silently. Desperate for confirmation, I feigned a sneeze, leaning in to inspect his neck. Despite my efforts, I found nothing incriminating. "Pull yourself together, Arianna," I scolded internally. 

"I apologize, sir," I murmured, bowing my head. "No worries. Just remember what we discussed earlier—to stay safe," he chuckled. 

As my boss reminded me to prepare for the upcoming interview, I nodded gratefully. With a quick exchange of pleasantries, he excused himself to take a call. 

"He's arrived. You should leave," my boss informed me. "I hope everything unfolds as planned," he remarked cryptically, leaving me uneasy. "You're free to go, Miss Arianna," my boss motioned, prompting me to gather my belongings and the list of questions.

As I walked away from the encounter with the mysterious man, my mind was ablaze with questions and suspicions. His familiar voice and handwriting triggered a wave of memories, dredging up the trauma of my father's death and the events that followed.

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this man than met the eye. His nonchalant demeanor and cryptic remarks only fueled my suspicions further. Was he somehow involved in my father's murder? And if so, what was his connection to the Forte company?

As I made my way out of the room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. Time was of the essence, and I needed to uncover the truth before it was too late. But first, I needed to gather more information and piece together the puzzle that lay before me.

As I reached the hallway, I pulled out my phone to call Brenda, my trusted confidante and ally in times of need. She answered after a few rings, her voice filled with concern.

"Arianna, are you okay?" she asked, her tone laced with worry.

"I'm fine, Brenda," I replied, though my voice wavered slightly. "But something's not right. That man, Knight Wayne, I think he might be connected to my father's death."

Brenda's gasp echoed through the phone, but she quickly composed herself. "We need to find out everything we can about him," she declared firmly.

I nodded, grateful for her unwavering support. Together, we would uncover the truth and bring those responsible to justice.

As we made plans to meet and discuss our next steps, my mind raced with thoughts and possibilities. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, but there was still much left to uncover.

But one thing was certain: I wouldn't rest until I had the answers I sought. And with Brenda by my side, I knew that nothing could stand in our way.

After rehearsing the interview questions meticulously, I stepped into the showroom, greeted by the glaring lights and buzzing cameras. As the door swung open, a towering figure entered, commanding respect with every stride. "Welcome, Knight!" the crowd erupted in cheers, but he remained stoic, taking his seat beside me. Mesmerized by his presence, I couldn't help but admire his chiseled features and rosy lips.

"Miss Arianna," my boss's voice jolted me back to reality. "Time to get to work. We're going live in five," he reminded me sternly. Hastily reviewing the questions, I faced Knight, only to be met with his blunt inquiry, "You're not just practicing, are you, lady?" "No, of course not. Just a quick revision," I assured him.

With a final countdown from my boss, the interview commenced. "Hello and welcome to BBC News. I'm Arianna Fletcher, and today, I have the privilege of interviewing Knight Wayne, CEO of Forte, the second wealthiest company in the world," I announced. "Could you please introduce yourself?" I posed the question I had prepared diligently.

"I'm Knight Wayne, the proprietor of Forte Company," came his chilly response. 

"Here's a question from your fans: What's the truth behind the rumors about

your fiancée's demise affecting your business dealings with Mason Company?" I inquired, sticking to the script meticulously.