Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby-Chapter 90: The Cost of Wrong Information

After two days of continuous remorse over his own stupidity, James Clifford’s brain finally began functioning normally again. The shock of Eleanor’s sudden reappearance had shaken him, but now he knew he needed to get his emotions under control. He had to decide his next steps regarding Eleanor... strategically and carefully. Although he didn’t know the full truth, he had to formulate a plan with the fragments of information he had managed to gather so far.

Seated in his favourite spot at his outskirt villa... on a rocking chair beside the serene swimming pool... he took a long sip of his freshly brewed coffee. The sun glinted off the water’s surface, but James’s gaze was distant, dark, calculating.

"I need to inform the Whitmores," he murmured to himself. "If they run into Eleanor and react inappropriately in front of the Millers, it could be a disaster. Especially Jennifer... I know how volatile she gets when it comes to Eleanor."

But before that, he knew he had to be sure... gather all possible intelligence. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

He pulled out his phone and dialled a number he hadn’t used in a long time. It rang twice before being answered.

"Hello, Detective Harvey speaking."

"Detective Harvey, it’s James Clifford."

"Mr. Clifford!" The voice on the other end instantly brightened. "You’re an old client... I still have your number saved. Although... I must apologize again for failing to locate your former girlfriend all those years ago. That was a truly exceptional case. What can I do for you today?"

James spoke calmly but with urgency, "Actually, that’s the reason I’m calling. I’ve finally found her."

Before he could elaborate, Detective Harvey exclaimed enthusiastically, "Oh! Congratulations!"

James’s expression darkened. His voice dropped a tone. "Don’t congratulate me just yet. Yes, I found her... but there’s a serious complication. It appears she’s lost her memory. She didn’t recognize me at all, no matter how many times I tried to remind her."

He took a long breath, gathering the nerve to say the next part. "And that’s only half of the problem. The bigger issue is... she seems to be involved with Edward Miller... the chairman of the Miller Group. She might be his girlfriend or, God forbid, his wife."

A bitter smile curled at the edge of his lips. "Sure, Edward Miller is wealthy, but he’s old, widowed, and already has children and grandchildren. I want you to investigate her current status. Where is she living? What’s her relationship with the Millers? How is she being treated? I just want... for the peace of my mind."

He added softly, with feigned sentimentality, "You know, I always wanted what’s best for her."

"I understand, Mr. Clifford," Harvey replied. "You spent a lot of resources on the original case. I remember well... you were quite invested. I felt bad not being able to provide results back then. But now that you’ve given me a lead, I’ll find everything you need. I’ll start immediately."

"Good," James said. "I’m transferring your standard fee right now. This is a new investigation, so treat it as such. But I need the full report by this evening. If your findings are thorough, I’ll ensure you receive a generous bonus."

"You’re very generous, sir," the detective responded. "I’ll push all other cases to my assistants. Today, I work only for you. Expect my call this evening."

"I’ll be waiting," James said, ending the call.

He sat in silence for a few moments, letting the information settle. Then, without hesitation, he dialled another number... this time an international one. The line connected after a moment.

"Eleanor Whitmore is still alive," James said without preamble. "What happened on your end?"

Thousands of miles away, in a snow-covered European village, a tall man with broad shoulders walked along a quiet road. Snowflakes drifted gently from the grey sky, landing on the thick trees that lined the path. His face was mostly hidden beneath the hood of his jacket. He paused, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, then answered in a cold, gravelly voice.

"It shouldn’t have taken this long," he said. "Wait a bit... I’ll call you right back."

He pulled his phone away and began tapping on it. Minutes passed. The wind rustled the trees. A bird chirped faintly in the distance.

James’s phone rang again... this time it was the man calling back.

"I don’t know what happened," he admitted. "The money I paid for the mission was confiscated as compensation. Two assassination attempts failed. Every member of the teams either died or vanished. Now they’re blaming me for providing false information. So tell me, James Clifford, who the hell is protecting that girl?"

James’s jaw clenched. "What are you saying? I only just learned she’s involved with Edward Miller. Maybe things progressed... maybe they got married. But the Millers shouldn’t have the strength to protect her like this. How can they wipe out trained elites?"

The man scoffed. "Edward Miller? You’re joking. The Miller Group has money and influence, sure, but not the kind of force needed to kill my people. You’re underestimating the situation. Someone far more powerful is behind her... and possibly behind the Millers too."

He paused, then added ominously, "The people who accept contracts through my channels aren’t your average thugs. They’re ex-military, most of them special ops. Veterans with black ops experience. You think a bunch of British security guards took them out? No. Find me the real backer. And if you want to continue the mission... the price just went up."

"How much?" James asked, a tremor in his voice.

"Half a million pounds," the man replied. "And I want detailed, accurate intel this time. Otherwise, I’m out."

James hesitated, "I... I have to speak with my partners first. I’ll get back to you."

He hung up the call and leaned back in the chair, staring blankly at the rippling water of the pool. His mind was racing. Who could it be? The Millers weren’t known for military strength or underground connections. They were wealthy, yes, but even money had its limits.

Was it possible someone else was protecting Eleanor? Someone powerful enough to kill trained assassins without leaving a trace? He needed answers.

Finally, he decided to take it up with the Whitmores directly. If anyone knew more than him about Eleanor’s past and the current balance of power, it would be them.

He quickly dialled William Whitmore.

"Uncle," James began as soon as the call connected, "We need to talk. It’s about Eleanor. Something important came up. When can we meet?"

"I’m busy all day," William replied. "But you can come to the house tonight. Jennifer and Jeanne will be home too."

"Perfect. I’d also like to bring my mother along. I think it’s best if she hears this too."

"That’s fine," William said. "Just make sure to come after nine. I have a meeting in the evening that might run a bit late."

"Of course. We’ll be there on time," James replied and ended the call.

He placed his phone on the small round table beside him, then muttered darkly under his breath, "Damn old man. You think I don’t know your little hotel rendezvous with your secretary during these so-called meetings?"

He clenched his jaw.

"We’re in the middle of a crisis, and all you care about is getting into your secretary’s pants."

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.c(o)m