He sighed deeply, running a hand down his face. “You didn’t have to come.” He knew that they were both worried. “Thank you, but—”

A sudden ruckus erupted at the entrance.

“Mr. Torres, please get in,” came Quentin’s firm voice.

“Let go of me!” Robin’s voice rang out, sharp and furious. “I can walk just fine on my own!”

Robin’s eyes narrowed at the sight of them.

Moments later, Quentin entered, ushering Robin into the room. “Mr. Flynn. Mr. Scott. Miss Pearson.”

Ernest stood, his gaze sharpened to a blade.

The warmth that typically softened his features was gone, replaced with cold accusation. “Tell me,” Ernest said, each word deliberate, “how did you do it?”

“What?” Robin looked genuinely stunned. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

Quentin released his grip, and Robin rolled his shoulders, glaring at them all in turn. “This is insane. Why did you drag me here? This is unlawful detention. You’ve got no right—none of you!”

He turned sharply, starting for the door.

Ernest smirked—an icy, calculated curve of his lips—his eyes flicking toward Quentin with a silent command.

“Yes, sir,” Quentin responded crisply, raising his hand.

In an instant, two bodyguards emerged from the shadows. One gripped Robin’s shoulders while the other delivered a swift kick to the back of his knee.

Robin gasped, collapsing as his leg buckled. The guards pressed down hard, forcing him to kneel, pinning him in place. He gritted his teeth, furious, eyes blazing as he glared up at Ernest. “What the hell do you want from me?”

Ernest approached, slow and deliberate, the gleam in his eyes ice-cold. He bent down just enough to look Robin squarely in the face. “I’ll ask once,” he said, voice low and sharp. “How are you planning to contact Elissa?”

Your source: glnvls.

Robin’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

The confusion on his face quickly shifted. A flicker of realization dawned in his eyes, and his brow furrowed deeply. Then it clicked.

He looked up at Ernest again, this time with a twisted grin. “Wait a second… You dragged me all the way here and asked strange questions… because Elissa ran away?”

Ernest’s jaw tensed, and something flickered in his gaze.

Robin caught it, and his grin widened. A sharp bark of laughter escaped his throat. “I was right! She really did it! Elissa ran away!”

“Shut your mouth!” Ernest stepped in closer, his eyes blazing. “Tell me how you’ve been contacting her. Where’s Savannah living in Ontmond? What’s her number?”

Robin blinked, stunned—but then chuckled again, darkly. “Elissa’s in Ontmond?” he said, laughing through the pain, the mockery sharp in his voice. “So that’s where—”

“She went? To her mother?” He looked Ernest dead in the eye, his tone suddenly seething.

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