Jaxon sat in his office, eyes fixed on his laptop as he worked diligently. A knock at the door broke his concentration. Raising his head, he saw his private investigator, Charlie, step in with a mild smile.

It was that time of the month again, and Jaxon silently hoped for good news. Rising from his seat, he extended a hand across the desk.

"Charlie," he greeted.

"Mr. Waverly," Charlie replied politely. Jaxon gestured toward a chair, inviting him to sit.

"Tell ...