The Mirage Heist: Stealing the Golden Key

Chapter 7 Beautiful and Spacious

"Everyone says the same—that they don't need money—until the number of zeros increases and the amount is handed over. This is a matter of one hour. Keep the number saved. Call me if you change your mind. But if the police go to Jay Gatsby, or if you try to escape... I have saved your tracking history..." He showed his mobile screen. "In which you have confessed to being illegal. Imagine how I can use this recording if I hand it over to the police. One hour."

He extended a slip of paper toward her. When she didn't take it, Kaelen Tang forcibly stuffed it into the pocket of her apron and walked out. She kept staring at him blankly until he disappeared past the doorway.

A few minutes later, she was hurriedly gathering her things in the kitchen.

"Florence... what happened? Why are you leaving?" The head chef and waiters asked repeatedly, but her hands kept moving fast without an answer.

Sitting in his car outside, Kaelen Tang closed the door forcefully and looked out the window for a few moments. Rain was falling continuously outside. Looking around at the bustling market with an anxious posture, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Speak!" Mirage's low, dry, and heavy voice came through.

"I have chosen Florence Blackwood from among all those workers."

"Good... I am busy right now, so..."

"She is a good girl. I tested her thoroughly without cause. She is true and honest. She won't commit a theft. She has refused."

"Amount increase," came the indifferent reply.

"Did you not hear what I said? She is an honest and true girl. Simple and innocent!"

"They are all alike from the inside. No one here is true or honest, Kaelen Tang. Give money and watch them break." Mirage's heavy laugh echoed through the speaker.

Kaelen Tang's lips bore a bitter smile. "Is this your experience speaking, or has some girl cheated on you in the past? It doesn't sound like you."

In response, a deep silence spread for a few moments. Then Mirage's voice came through again, sharp and cold. Kaelen Tang moved the phone slightly away from his ear.

"Listen, Kaelen Tang... your intellectual level is below my feet. Keep track of her my way... and find your laptop."

The sound of a page turning came from the other side, and the call went dead. Kaelen Tang looked at the screen with annoyance.

Jay Gatsby's residence was three stories high—beautiful and spacious.

Florence entered through the open door, seeing stairs leading upward from the center. On one side, the lush lawn was visible through large glass panels. Seeing her enter, a uniformed servant approached her in surprise.

"Florence... your duty hours haven't started yet. Why are you here...?"

"Is Sir inside? I have to meet him. Urgent." She spoke restlessly, pushing past him.

Dressed in a straight-cut long skirt and blouse, she was in a completely different attire from her restaurant uniform. The tie holding her hair back had loosened, letting dark strands fall over her shoulders. Pure anxiety filled her green eyes.

"Florence, Sir, is in the study. If you want to talk about work, talk tomorrow..."

"Please, I have to meet Sir right now. Just for five minutes!" Saying this, she ran up the stairs. The servant kept calling after her, but she didn't stop.

The upper floor opened into a similar grand lobby. On one side stood the heavy wooden door of the study. Florence quickly knocked and pushed the door open.

Inside the study room, behind a massive desk, sat a middle-aged man with sharp features, talking to a young man standing in front of him. At the sound of the door opening, both turned. Florence stood at the threshold, looking at them with a nervous posture.

"May I come in, Sir?"

The young man—Jay Gatsby's personal secretary—was about to forbid her from entering, but Jay Gatsby smiled formally and gestured to her. "Come inside, Florence."

The secretary fell silent. Florence lowered her gaze in hesitation and stepped inside, wringing her fingers continuously.

"Sir, I need to tell you something." She spoke in a rushed breath.

"Yes, speak. But speak quickly," Gatsby said, glancing at his watch.

"Sir... at my restaurant... a man came today. He told me that I should steal something from your house."

Jay Gatsby startled and sat up straight. The secretary's mouth gaped open in shock. Until a moment ago, both of them had been completely indifferent.

"Did he say who he was?!"

"For whom was he working?!"