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XII.

"HELLO? Is this Queen Ramosa's residence?"

On a Saturday morning, a man stumbled into the reception hall of Bright's condominium.

He was a tall, muscular man with broad shoulders, wearing a casual polo shirt and jeans. His hair was brushed towards one side.

"Queen Ramosa? Ah, yes, there is a resident named Queen here. However, how may I help you?" the receptionist responded, a smile continuing to flash through her lips.

"I need to know which room she's occupying. I have a business with her," the man says, immediately. His face didn't change expression at all, staring at the woman with a serious look.

The woman tilted her head a little before saying, "I'm sorry, sir, but we cannot provide personal information about our residence in this condominium—"

Even before the staff could finish her words, the man suddenly rustled through his pockets and pulled out a wallet.

Inside the leather brown billfold was a licensed badge of a police officer.

"Take me to Queen's room now," the man demanded
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