Miss Josefina: Nobody's Princess

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Josefina wrapped up her work for the day.

Alex completed several design drafts under Josefina's guidance, leaving him beaming with satisfaction. "Boss, let me take you out for dinner," Alex offered eagerly. Josefina smiled gently. "Some other time, I've got something on tonight."

Alex nodded, unable to hide his excitement. "Alright."

Josefina had meant to take a bottle of medicine to Oliver. He needed to change his dressing again that evening. In her rush at noon, she had forgotten to give it to him.

Driving alone towards Oliver's office, she tried calling him, but his phone was switched off. She had just pulled up outside Oliver's building when she caught sight of him through the window, storming towards his car with a chilling indifference. His expression was grave, as if some calamity had struck.

At that moment, her phone buzzed with the tone of an incoming text message. An unfamiliar number had sent her a message. [Ms. Josefina, this is George. Do you have a moment? Please come to Oliver's house immediately. There's been a serious incident! Oliver's about to commit murder! Ms. Josefina, I beg you. Help Oliver. We can't let him become a murderer!]

Josefina's mind raced. What on earth had happened?

he afraid

[I'm on my way.] Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and

the address, but Josefina didn't even glance at it. She was tailing Oliver's car, driving

blooming in an array of colors. A

Oliver's estate. The estate was vast, stretching as far as the eye could see all

replied. [Ms. Josefina, please wait. I'll come out

the driver's seat, turned off the ignition, and was utterly baffled. What could have possibly happened to make

a half-hour walk

he followed Oliver, then excused himself, "Sir, I need to use the restroom. I'll just go to

simply grunted

off, found a hoverboard, and zoomed

into the house, swapped his shoes for slippers, and made his way to the living room. Sitting there was a stern-looking middle-aged man-it was

in a slate-gray suit. His thick eyebrows loomed over his eyes, smoldering with rage, while his voice resonated with a bone-tingling chill. "Oliver, why didn't