The Heiress's Return: From Zen to Zenith

Chapter 885: 432 Worry_1 Chapter 885: 432 Worry_1 “Dr.

Aria, we have a lead.”

Peter Aria immediately sat up from the bed, his eyes clear, no longer showing any signs of inebriation.

Whatever the person on the phone said, it made Peter’s expression grow increasingly solemn, his solemnity tinged with a hint of excitement.

Brixton Alvarez leaned against the door frame, having seen several uncharacteristic outbursts from Peter in a single day.

If they didn’t look so identical, he would have suspected that the man standing before him had been switched out.

“Alright, I’ll be there immediately.” After hanging up the phone, Peter rushed to the bathroom to wash his face.

He came out and said to Brixton, “I need to step out.”

Brixton looked at him suspiciously, “Was the one who called you a woman?”

Peter shook his head, picked up the coat hanging on the rack, and as he put on his shoes, he grabbed the car keys from the shoe cabinet.

“I need to borrow your car, I’ll explain later.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hurried out the door.

Brixton could do nothing but shrug helplessly.

It was nearly five in the afternoon in Pethkids, and rush hour was approaching.

The setting sun bathed the entire city in a warm, golden glow, hinting at the mild promise of winter warmth.

Peter Aria drove to a café on the first floor of the east entrance of Era Square.

Upon pushing open the café’s glass door, the unique bitter-sweet aroma of coffee, accompanied by the soothing notes of piano music, swept over him, dispelling the winter chill.

At this time of day, the café was at its peak time.

Urban beauties and elite white-collar workers, after a busy day, chose to come here for a cup of coffee to relax.

They sat in front of the café’s floor-to-ceiling windows, basking in the setting sun, watching a group of pigeons pecking for food in the square.

The scene was tranquil and heartwarming.

The arrival of a man disrupted the rare serene moment in the café.

The man was dressed in a white shirt, black pants, and a black coat that fell to his knees, accentuating his tall and lean figure.

Even without seeing his face, just his figure and his taste in dress were enough to quicken the heart.

Black and white, a classic combination, clean yet chilly, elegance emanating a latent sense of nobility.

This was a man radiating mature charm, alluring without knowing it.

In the short half a minute since his entrance, he had attracted the attention of all the females in the café.

The man cast a casual look around and made his way to a corner.

“Sergeant Linggo, I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

Madon Linggo nodded and gestured to the seat opposite him, “Please have a seat, Dr.

Aria.”

Peter Aria took a seat at the booth across Madon, and a waiter came over with a menu.

“An Espresso,” Peter said nonchalantly then turned to Madon, “What would you like, Sergeant Linggo?”

“The same.” responded Madon.

Turning to the waiter, Peter said, “Two Espresso, please.”

After the waiter left, Madon Linggo looked at Peter and asked, “Dr.

Aria, you lived abroad for many years, have you been able to adapt since coming back?”

“How is everywhere different?” asked Peter, impatiently, “Sergeant Linggo, what leads have you found?”

Madon Linggo placed his crossover fingers on the table and spoke in a deep voice, “About Miss Parker…”

Peter’s breath hitched, his hands subconsciously clasping tight.

His eyes were glued to Madon’s lips.

As if waiting for a judgment of fate.

Madon paused, “Miss Parker’s disappearance case is quite complicated, and it may take some time to investigate.

I can tell you what we’ve found so far, but you better be prepared.”

Nikita Parker was a national goddess in those days when the internet wasn’t well-developed.

Her beauty made her famous nationwide.

She was a mega-star, rising steeply.

Her posters and songs were everywhere.

However, one day, she just disappeared from this world.

It was as if she had evaporated overnight.

All traces of her existence were wiped clean, like a tale from a fairy book.

When the magic wore off at dawn, Cinderella, with no glass slipper, was just a pitiable maiden suffering at the hands of her stepmother.

More than a decade had passed, and perhaps except for the man sitting in front of him, no one else in the world remembered the name Nikita Parker.

This was the power of authority; it could make a person disappear without a trance, completely forgotten as if they never existed in this world.

If it were not for Mr.

Lewis’s special privilege, this case couldn’t have been continued.