MIGUEL'S MANSION
As Miguel stepped out of his car with Elizabeth, his phone vibrated in his pocket. The screen displayed “Private Number.” Miguel frowned and answered without hesitation.
“Hello?” His tone was steady, his eyes scanning his surroundings.
On the other end came a low, eerie chuckle that sent a chill down his spine. Miguel’s jaw tightened. “Who is this?” he demanded, his voice colder now.
Elizabeth, a step behind, caught the shift in his demeanor. She stopped, her gaze fixed on him, sensing something was wrong.
The voice on the line was mocking, casual. “How did you like the gift I sent your girlfriend? Beautiful, wasn’t it?” the man asked.
Miguel’s posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “Who the hell are you?”
Another laugh echoed through the line. “Ah, no need for host
