Chapter 157 Turning the Tables
Frankie's voice trembled. "We... We have no choice! Our families are in Carl's hands."
Emily's gaze swept over the three men, then she suddenly stepped half a pace closer to Tony. "No choice? Kidnapping me will only make your fate even more miserable."
A flash of terror crossed Tony's face. He knew Charles could absolutely deliver on that threat!
Frankie also looked toward him with some hesitation. "Tony..."
Right at that moment!
Emily caught sight of Vinnie's momentary distraction in her peripheral vision. Her left heel struck the ground hard! The platinum and diamond clasp of her Patek Philippe watch on her left wrist snapped apart with a sound! As the watch slid down, she feigned a struggle, kicking her legs.
The expensive timepiece slid precisely into the narrow gap beneath her Porsche's left front wheel, perfectly hidden in the shadowy dead angle!
"Move it, you idiots! If we let her escape, we and our families are all dead!" Tony finally made his choice.
Frankie jumped into action, this time not even daring to touch Emily's jaw directly, only pressing a cashmere scarf over her mouth and nose! Vinnie supported her elbow, terrified of causing even the slightest scrape!
Emily's resistance weakened by half, not from submission, but confirmation. Her shoe tip traced one final half-circle over where the watch had fallen, the subtle metallic scraping sound perfectly masked by her own muffled whimpers.
This was the clue she was leaving for Charles.
She was forced to inhale ether from the scarf, nearly suffocating. As her body was half-carried, half-pushed into the decrepit van, her fingernails scraped frantically against the rusted iron of the door frame!
A golden leaf-shaped Cartier nail art piece slipped silently into a corroded crack in the door hinge!
The door slammed shut with a thunderous crash! The engine roared like a beast!
——
The cramped interior reeked of heavy smoke and sweat.
Emily curled in the corner, the cold leather seats reeking of mildew. No one spoke. Frankie huddled in the passenger seat, eyes glued to the rearview mirror, fingers drumming against the door.
Vinnie sat a person's width away from her, his massive frame rigid as a statue despite the vehicle's swaying motion.
Tony wiped sweat from his forehead, his hoarse voice breaking the deathly silence. "About Mr. Windsor..."
"Shut up!" Vinnie suddenly snarled. Since they'd already made their decision, they had to see it through to the bitter end. If they gave up now, they'd have made enemies of both sides.
Frankie still showed some fear. He fumbled in the glove compartment and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic spray. He held the spray out at a distance, not daring to look Emily in the eye. "Your wrist got scraped raw by the watch band."
Emily didn't take it.
Though she was now conscious, her head still felt somewhat foggy, but her powerful willpower kept her from passing out. She slowly rested her bleeding right wrist on her knee, the bloodstains spreading across her moonlight-white satin dress.
She looked up. "Scared now? Let me go now, and there's still time. Otherwise, Charles will make you experience what it means to suffer a fate worse than death!"
The antiseptic spray clattered to the floor!
Frankie recoiled as if burned by a branding iron, curling into the shadows.
They didn't want this either!
Emily was highly satisfied with their reaction. Yes, now wasn't the time for confrontation; she needed to use Charles's fearsome reputation to protect herself.
As long as she remained sufficiently assertive, she might be able to intimidate these men into backing down.
But the three men had their own calculations.
The Windsor Manor. One AM.
Emma's burning forehead had finally been soothed by fever patches and medication, and she slept deeply.
But Charles felt no desire for sleep. His chest felt as if it were pressed by a constantly expanding boulder, growing heavier with each passing second. Emily's phone had been switched off continuously for the past half hour. He dialed Emily's number over and over, the unanswered ringtone grating against his nerves every moment.
"Nathan, get to Obscura Fashion immediately! I'll be right behind you!"
When Charles arrived at the base of the Windsor Group tower, Nathan was already waiting by the side entrance with the security chief, his face unusually grim under the cold white courtyard lights.
The building's underground garage felt eerily empty. The moment Charles stepped into this cold, shadowy underground space, an intense sense of crisis washed over him like ice water.
The security chief pointed to the chaos near Emily's designated parking space. "Mr. Windsor! We found Ms. Johnson's Porsche, and this..."
He held up an evidence bag containing Emily's watch.
Charles's gaze instantly froze. He bent down and picked up a tiny diamond from the ground, dusty but still sparkling. It was one of the high-temperature ceramic stones Emily used as flower centers in her nail art. Nearby was a small puddle of suspicious liquid with a sharp chemical odor spreading outward.
"Search everything! Pull all the parking garage surveillance footage!"
At that moment, Nathan's encrypted phone in his suit pocket suddenly vibrated—an emergency direct line signal from the Windsor Group's cybersecurity center!
The technical director's voice came through the electronic device. "Nathan, five minutes ago, our monitoring detected an anonymous post on the company website's public message board backend! The content has been captured by our data interception system."
Nathan couldn't bear to listen further. "Get to the point!"
"The content is a set of coordinates and one line: 'If you want to save Emily, come to the Slaughterhouse'!"
Charles heard every word through the phone clearly. He snatched the device. "Locate those coordinates immediately!"
The information system activated instantly, and the coordinates were quickly pinpointed to an abandoned logistics warehouse complex in Emerald City's eastern district—a place locals spoke of in hushed tones, where illegal slaughtering operations had once run rampant, earning it the nickname "the Slaughterhouse"!
"Seal off all exits in the eastern district! Surround the target area! Bring everyone! Move out immediately!"
The abandoned warehouse "Slaughterhouse."
The stench of death mingled with the smell of rusted metal.
The sharp scent of rust mixed with heavy dust and the putrid smell of rotting meat hung oppressively in the air. Pale emergency lighting cast beams like the gaze of the dying, projecting onto oil-stained, cobweb-covered walls and ceilings, creating various twisted and eerie dancing shadows.
The battered van screeched to a halt in front of the rusted iron gate. Tony jumped out and pushed open the heavy warehouse door with a grinding metal screech.
Frankie and Vinnie helped Emily out of the vehicle as if facing mortal danger, their movements still carefully gentle, as if she were a priceless antique that might shatter at any moment.
Emily's hands were bound behind her back, but she keenly caught the subtle changes in the three men's expressions, not the satisfaction of a successful kidnapping, but deeper fear and a certain sense of relief.