I Hate That I Love You, Mr Anderson.

A Perfect Excuse.

Ashley's point of view.

>Ashley's Relaxation CenterDaniel Anderson's mansion<

Nathan paced back and forth, his heart pounding in his chest. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, evident in the beads of sweat that trickled down his forehead. His breaths came in ragged gasps, the tension in the room palpable.

Fifteen men stood in a rigid line, their black suits blending into the shadows. Their heads were bowed, avoiding any form of eye contact with Nathan. It was as if they were collectively aware of their own shameful act, their guilt hanging heavily in the air.

“You're all useless!” Nathan's voice erupted, filled with frustration and anger. His words echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and reverberating in the silence. “You're all a bunch of fools!”

The room fell into a pin-drop silence, the only sound being Nathan's heavy breaths as he clenched his phone tighter. He felt the weight of his impatience, the urgency of the situation, gnawing at him.

“We… We were ambushed and…" one of the men stammered, his voice trailing off as he met Nathan's harsh glare.

Fear flashed in his eyes, realizing the gravity of their mistake.

“You were ambushed?” Nathan's voice dripped with disdain, his frustration boiling over. “Does that guarantee your incompetence? Do you know that your mistake can cost the boss's life and…?

Before he could finish his sentence, his phone abruptly interrupted him. The ringtone blared loudly, cutting through the tension in the room. Nathan's eyes narrowed as he answered the call, his voice laced with impatience. “What?!”

“We've searched everywhere, but there's no trace of the boss.” the voice on the other end of the line relayed the grim news.

Nathan's grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, threatening to suffocate him. He knew that time was running out, that every second wasted could mean the difference between life and death.

“Continue f*****g searching!” Nathan's voice boomed, filled with a mix of urgency and determination. “Boss's life is in danger, and we are not sleeping tonight until we find him.”

“Yes, sir”

Nathan ended the call, then averted his angry gaze from his phone to the men in black suits.

“Bring me to the place you were ambushed” he instructed.

“Yes, sir” they chorused.