~Sunshine~

The sleek black car came to a sudden halt in front of a magnificent gate, its intricate craftsmanship a testament to the opulence that lay beyond. This was the mansion of James, yet another titan of the business world who, like Francisco, concealed a hidden identity.

Behind his public façade, James was an underworld mafia figure, expertly shielding his criminal persona behind the veil of his legitimate enterprises.

As the car pulled up, the tension inside the vehicle was palpable. The mansion's guards, dressed in sharp suits and vigilant as ever, immediately noticed the intruder. Bruce was thrown out of the moving car.

Their eyes narrowed in suspicion as they realized a disheveled and injured man was sprawled at the gate. Before they could spring into action, the car abruptly accelerated, leaving Bruce behind in its dust.

One of them shouted, "Mr. Bruce!"

The guards approached, their concerns mounting as they noticed the visible signs of physical trauma etched across Bruce's body. Deep bruises and lacerations bore witness to the violence he had endured. It was evident that he had been subjected to a harrowing ordeal.

Alarmed by the sight of the injuries and recognizing the urgency of the situation, one of the guards called out urgently, "Call the boss. Mr. Bruce needs to be admitted to the hospital right now."

**

Francisco had been spending the day exercising in his private gym, intentionally ignoring his phone calls and messages. He was in a mood of seclusion, his mind shrouded by thoughts that seemed to plague him relentlessly. Despite the insistent buzzing of his phone, he initially refused to be distracted. But when a message arrived that seemed to capture his attention, he couldn't help but pause his workout and reach for his phone.

His face remained unreadable as he read the message, but there was something about it that visibly dampened his spirits. After a brief moment, he set the phone down and returned to his workout, as if trying to escape from the reality that had momentarily encroached upon him.

However, as he was about to leave the gym, his solitude was abruptly disrupted. Max, his face etched with concern, stood before him, blocking his path. With narrowed eyes, Max confronted him. "What's wrong with you exactly?" he demanded, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

Francisco sighed and stepped aside, making his way to the stairs leading out of the gym. He moved with a certain grace, an aura of enigma surrounding him. Max was not one to be easily deterred, and he followed, determined to get answers.

"Dude, I am asking you something," Max persisted, his tone growing more urgent. "Did you not receive any mail from the company?"

Francisco paused on the stairs, his back still turned to Max. Then he finally spoke, his voice tinged with calmness. "I did, Max. But I did not feel the need to reply."

Max's sigh was a reflection of his growing frustration as he observed Francisco's carelessness. He knew that they needed to maintain a careful balance between their public personas and their covert operations. With a hint of exasperation, he said, "Hey, you have to show up to the meeting today. Keep in mind that you must go in for an interview for the CIO position."

Francisco's response was somewhat nonchalant; his gaze turned away from Max as he spoke. "I will be there in 20 minutes. But I can't take everyone's interview." His tone was firm, signaling his boundaries within the business world, even as they engaged in activities far more clandestine.

However, just as he was about to leave the conversation and retreat to his room, he made an abrupt about-face and locked eyes with Max once more. Francisco's tone took on a more inquisitive note as he added, "Furthermore, I have heard that Diana is seeing someone."

Max, taken off guard by the sudden change of subject, arched his brows and affected an air of innocence, feigning ignorance. His response was carefully measured.

In an effort to avoid revealing his true feelings, he stammered, "I... I am not sure, to be honest."

Francisco raised one eyebrow at Max's response. He had a knack for reading between the lines, and he prodded further. "Then try to figure out who he is," he urged, his curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama.

Max, feeling a sense of agitation and unease, confessed, "Yes, but I don't think Diana will let me do anything."

Francisco, intrigued by Max's choice of words, asked, "Let you not do something? What are you saying?"

In Max's voice, there was an underlying sadness that he couldn't hide. He looked away for a moment, his thoughts a tumultuous storm of emotions. "I mean, why does she allow me to meddle in her life?" he muttered, his words weighed down by the weight of their complex history.

Francisco's furrowed brows conveyed his seriousness as he spoke, his voice laced with a protective tone. "I don't want to hear anything. I don't want her to let her love life divert her mind."

Max, still averting his gaze, absorbed Francisco's words. Francisco's demeanor left no room for negotiation, and Max understood the depth of his concern. "What if she refuses to let me in?" Max asked, his voice measured.

Francisco's response was stern, his resolve unwavering as he spoke his final words on the matter. "So, you are aware of what to do." With those words, he left the room, leaving Max standing there, grappling with his own feelings and the complexity of his relationship with Diana.

The events of the past night loomed large in Max's thoughts. He and Diana had argued vehemently about his tendency to meddle in her life. She had explicitly told him not to interfere, asserting her need for independence.

But now, with Francisco's tacit approval, Max knew that nobody could prevent him from seeing her.

A victorious, wry smile crept onto Max's face. Francisco's tacit approval had made his task easier, or so it seemed. With this unexpected turn of events, he now had the opportunity to stay close to Diana and, perhaps, prevent her from seeing that doctor.

To be continued.