Sasha sent her a photo of a luggage bag with Vinson's and Arielle's ID photos beside it.
Upon seeing the photo, Susanne's hand could not stop trembling.
She could not stop her hands from shaking as the fear of the unknown overwhelmed her. Subsequently, she immediately looked for Sasha's number and called her.
She had to muster up all her courage to ask this short question, “S-Sasha, any news about them?”
Upon hearing Susanne's broken voice, even Sasha, who was usually indifferent, couldn't help but feel sad. She suppressed her emotions and responded with bloodshot eyes, “We haven't found them yet, Mrs. Nightshire.”
Susanne tried to console herself. No news is good news.
“Sasha, continue with the search operation. Let me know if you need more money. I'll get Rayson to make the necessary arrangements,” Susanne said after steeling herself.
Sasha nodded. “All right, Mrs. Nightshire. I'll call Rayson if I need help.”
After ending the call, Sasha started looking for the couple again.
Meanwhile, Susanne packed her things and made a trip to Nightshire Group.
The moment she stepped into the company, more than ten journalists caught up with her with cameras and asked her questions incessantly, “Hi, Mrs. Nightshire. Now that the company's share price had dipped, and Mr. Nightshire is still missing, would you allow someone capable to take over the chairman's position?”
Another journalist asked, “Another week has passed, yet, there's still no news about Mr. Nightshire. In your opinion, what are the chances of him surviving the tragedy?”
“Mrs. Nightshire, who will become the next chairman of Nightshire Group if Mr. Nightshire is declared dead? Do you have any candidate in mind?” Another question emerged from the crowd.
“Mrs. Nightshire...”
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