Chapter 286
Chapter 286
【Luna's Perspective】
One week after Max's disappearance, I sat in my study at the Blake mansion, surrounded by stacks of papers and multiple laptops displaying various footage. My body had recovered from its initial shock, though the dark circles under my eyes betrayed my ongoing distress.
The official search for Max continued. Dive teams had combed the Potomac River without finding his body, and a joint FBI-Department of Defense task force was quietly investigating the Morrison Group CEO's disappearance. Meanwhile, I conducted my own investigation.
I replayed the traffic camera footage for the twentieth time. Max's armored SUV being pursued by unmarked black vehicles. The sudden loss of control as his car veered toward the guardrail. The splash as it plunged into the river. The pursuit vehicles quickly departing toward an area with no surveillance coverage.
A gentle knock interrupted my concentration.
"Come in," I called, not taking my eyes from the screen.
Kevin entered, his expression grave. "Mrs. Morrison, I found something important."
He placed an encrypted flash drive on my desk. "This contains White House internal security footage from the day of the wedding. I had to use every Morrison Group connection to obtain it."
Together we watched the video of Grace's wedding. I leaned forward as the footage showed Noah's ring exchange with Grace. When the ring pricked his finger, Max immediately pressed his handkerchief to the wound.
"Look there!" Kevin exclaimed. "Mr. Morrison switched handkerchiefs!"
I nodded, noticing how Max slipped the bloodstained cloth into his pocket before offering Noah a clean one. The ceremony continued with unusual haste, the MC rushing through what should have been a leisurely celebration.
"Kevin, did Max tell you about this plan?" I asked quietly.
"No, he shared nothing about it." Kevin frowned. "But why would Mr. Morrison need Noah's blood sample?"
"This man might be William," I said, studying Noah's face on the screen.
Kevin looked skeptical. "That seems unlikely. William wears glasses, and even with plastic surgery, the resemblance couldn't be this perfect. Look at Peter Hughes after his transformation—something always seems off."
"Near-sightedness can be corrected with contact lenses or laser surgery," I countered. "And high-end cosmetic procedures can be remarkably effective."
Worry crossed Kevin's face. "Then is Mr. Morrison... in serious danger?"
"If you wanted someone's DNA sample," I asked instead of answering, "would this be the only way to get it?"
Kevin listed several simpler methods: inviting the target to a business meeting and collecting used glasses or utensils; obtaining samples through federal security screenings; having agents pose as service staff to collect discarded items.
"Max's approach was the most dangerous and conspicuous method possible," Kevin concluded.
"Would someone with Max's intelligence make such an inefficient decision?"
"Absolutely not."
"So he did it deliberately," I said, the pieces finally falling into place. "Max intentionally requested to be Noah's best man. He deliberately positioned himself near Noah. He purposely collected Noah's blood in the most obvious manner possible. And he intentionally appeared nervous, rushing away from the wedding to arouse Noah's suspicion."
I continued my analysis. "If Noah has nothing to hide, he wouldn't care about his DNA being collected. But if he's concealing something..."
Kevin's eyes widened with understanding. "Mrs. Morrison, are you suggesting that Mr. Morrison's real objective wasn't to obtain Noah's DNA, but to create that impression? To provoke Noah into taking action against him?"
I nodded. "That's my assessment."
"But why would Mr. Morrison do that?"
After a thoughtful pause, I asked, "Kevin, did Max recently have you prepare any special equipment or place anything in his vehicle?"
Kevin's expression shifted as the memory returned. "Actually, yes. A few days before the wedding, Mr. Morrison had me requisition military-grade underwater breathing apparatus from the Advanced Weapons Division, along with a special forces window-breaking device for bulletproof glass."
At this revelation, I felt a smile spread across my face, the weight of anxiety lifting from my chest. I pulled out my phone, rereading Max's final message: "Stay calm and wait for me to return."
My heart filled with both longing and frustration. When you return, I'll certainly teach you a lesson. Such a dangerous plan, risking your life without consulting me—how could you do this to Liam and me?
"Mrs. Morrison, what exactly is Mr. Morrison executing? Where is he now?" Kevin asked anxiously.
"I'm not certain," I admitted.
"What should we do next?"
"Continue the standard search procedures," I instructed. "Don't investigate or approach Noah Walker. Act as if he's unrelated to this situation. Proceed with normal operations—don't interfere with Max's plan."
"Understood, Mrs. Morrison."
"And don't share these theories with anyone."
"Yes, ma'am."
---
A month later, Washington's cherry blossoms were beginning to bloom under the bright spring sun. Violet accompanied me to Georgetown's upscale shopping center after Liam's pediatric checkup and vaccinations.
As we browsed a luxury baby boutique, selecting new clothes and essentials for Liam, I spotted Lily and Grace examining infant items in a nearby section. I politely nodded in their direction, but Grace deliberately ignored me.
"Max is missing, possibly dead, and you're out shopping?" Lily spat venomously.
"What would you prefer I do?" I countered calmly. "Hide at home weeping all day, or perhaps dive to the bottom of the Potomac searching for my possibly missing husband?"
"Max isn't dead," Lily insisted.
"Your emotions are genuine, Miss Carter," I replied. "It's unfortunate they're directed at the wrong person."
Lily's face flushed with anger. "A woman like you doesn't deserve Max."
"I regret to inform you that Max Morrison in life is Luna Blake's husband, and if he has indeed met with misfortune, in death he will be Luna Blake's late husband. Whether I deserve him or not isn't for you to decide. Even if he's gone, as his wife, only I have the right to rest beside him in the Morrison family cemetery."
As I turned to leave, I overheard Grace mutter to Lily, "Don't bother with social climbers like her, seducing powerful men with her clever tactics."
I handed Liam to Violet, asking her to wait by the entrance, then approached Grace directly. I displayed my phone's call log.
"I met your husband for the first time at your wedding," I stated coldly. "Since then, he's been harassing me with calls. Here's the record—do you recognize this number?"
Grace attempted to grab my phone, but I pulled it away.
"Please tell your husband to stop harassing me," I warned. "I don't know him and have no interest in any form of friendship with him. Otherwise, I'll file harassment charges in federal court."
Grace clutched her abdomen, trembling with rage.
Noticing her protective gesture, I softened slightly. "Additionally, please mind what you say. Max and I grew up together. His genuine love won me over—there was no seduction involved."
Turning to Lily, I added, "As for Miss Carter's constant claims that I don't deserve Max Morrison—no couple is perfectly matched. His love is sufficient, and you have no right to interfere with his choices."
When Lily tried to respond, I interrupted: "No need for excuses. You believe you're the only one worthy of Max Morrison. Unfortunately, even if you were heaven-sent, Max would show no interest in you. Why humiliate yourself and increase his annoyance?"
"Lily, let's go," Grace tugged her friend's arm. "Don't engage with this shrew."
As they departed, I reflected on how Max's love had given me the confidence to stand my ground in such confrontations. One month had passed, and I missed him desperately.
Where are you now, Max? Are you safe?