The next day.
Loyce took a thorough tour of the Yavon Loom Factory. The entire operation was a masterclass in standardized production; every stage of the process had uniformed workers manning the machines. Everything was so perfectly orchestrated that it was impossible to find a single flaw to exploit.
As she and Lucian exited the factory and walked down the street to grab a bite, a desperate, tearful plea echoed from a nearby alleyway.
Loyce walked over just in time to see the woman from yesterday—the one who claimed to be a college student—being violently backhanded into a corner by her husband. Before anyone could react, he hoisted her onto his shoulder and bolted, vanishing into the maze of alleys in seconds.
Lucian let out a dark chuckle. "How convenient."
Loyce turned to him, her expression unreadable. "It's incredibly obvious that poor girl is in trouble. We should rush to the police station immediately and demand they send an officer to check on her."
Lucian's lips curved into a predatory smirk. "Whatever you say, Ms. Lonsdale."
Their SUV tore through the streets, screeching to a halt outside the county police station. It was the middle of the lunch hour, and the only person manning the front desk was the disabled officer from the night before.
The man looked genuinely surprised to see them, but after hearing their frantic report, he benevolently pushed himself up from his desk. "If that's the case, I'll ride out with you to Wade's place to check on them. But fair warning, his house is way out in the mountains. The roads are rough, so you'll have to drive carefully."
"Of course," Loyce smiled radiantly. "My driver is highly experienced. We'll be perfectly fine."
The officer nodded. "Wait for me outside. I'll be right out."

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