By late afternoon, Emma had tried everything in reaching out to the assistants, circling old contacts, even offering discreet bribes but hit wall after wall. It was as if the man's identity had been scrubbed clean or never written down at all.
She returned to Jean's office, empty-handed but not defeated.
"I tried," she confessed, placing a file on Jean's desk. "Even Alex's junior assistant acted like she didn't know anything. But the weird thing is… she got nervous when I mentioned your name and 'wedding' in the same sentence."
Jean's brows pinched together. "So she knows something."
Emma nodded. "Yes. And she's scared to talk."
Jean stared blankly at the file, then pushed it away. "This is insane. They're hiding the man like he's some kind of secret weapon."
"Maybe he is," Emma said quietly. "A weapon meant to keep you in line."
Jean's heart thudded painfully. That nagging feeling returned again… the same chill that ran down her spine at the dining table.
