Chapter 63
The scorching heat from my fingertips was real. I looked down at James.
He looked completely different from his usual cold, tough demeanor—so weak now, brows tightly furrowed, lips an unhealthy pale, even his breathing felt hot.
I went to find the guesthouse owner to ask if he had any fever medicine.
Luckily, the owner had a habit of stocking medicine. He found several types of fever reducers and handed them to me, then dug out a thermometer for me to take back to the room.
I tucked the thermometer under James's arm, poured some warm water, and crouched beside him. "James, wake up. You need to take the medicine."
He groggily opened his eyes, unfocused and hazy. It took him a while to recognize me, his voice terribly hoarse. "What medicine is this? Where'd you get it?"
"Fever medicine. I got it from the owner. Hurry up and take it."
"Okay." James closed his eyes again after taking the medicine, though his brows remained furrowed.
I sat in the chair beside him, watching him like this, sighing inwardly.
Even though I disliked him, I couldn't just ignore him.
I dampened a towel with cool water and kept applying it to his forehead to help bring down his fever.
After watching over him for nearly two hours, his forehead finally cooled down a bit. I got up to check if the rain had stopped.
If the ground wasn't still wet, I would've thought yesterday's downpour was just a dream.
James looked much better, though his forehead was still a bit warm.
We didn't stay there any longer. James made a call for someone to pick us up.
Taking the fruit we'd picked yesterday, we drove back to the Smith Mansion.
The family doctor was already waiting.
After the injection, the fever broke.
I sat to the side, looking at James.
Later, I somehow fell asleep, and when I woke up, I found myself lying in bed with James, held in his arms.
I tried to get up, but he tightened his grip.
"I need to use the restroom."
James let go.
When I came out of the bathroom, James was already sitting up, leaning against the headboard.
"Looks like you're better."
James leaned forward a bit. "Feel my forehead."
I was speechless.
Did he not realize what our current situation was?
"I can't tell accurately myself." James seemed to know what I was thinking and added that.
I touched his forehead and was about to pull my hand back when he grabbed it, pressing it firmly against his skin. "You only touched for a second. Can you really tell?"
"If you don't believe me, you can use the thermometer." I pulled my hand away and handed him the thermometer from nearby.
James didn't take it. "I believe you."
I said, "No more fever."
James said with amusement, "That's it?"
"What else do you want me to say?"
James's brows immediately furrowed. "You took care of me so closely when I had a fever. I thought..."
I said bluntly, "I was afraid if you died, I wouldn't know how to explain it to Grandma."
James's face darkened.
"You're fine now, so I'll go." I got up, and a phone ringtone sounded behind me.
James answered, and whether he accidentally hit speakerphone or not, Amelia's tearful voice came through, panicked and urgent. "James, Isabella's been taken by human traffickers! What do we do?"
James quickly tried to calm Amelia. "Don't panic. Sophia and I will come right away."
After hanging up, he changed out of his loungewear while making calls to get people to search for Isabella.
Did I say I was going?
Amelia was crouched at the park entrance, crying uncontrollably. When she saw us arrive, she immediately threw herself at James, choking out, "James, you're finally here. Isabella still hasn't been found."
"What do I do? If something happens to Isabella, I won't want to live either."
James steadied her, calmly reassuring her, "Crying won't solve anything. First tell me exactly what happened."
I stood to the side, then asked, "Does Isabella have any electronic devices on her? Like a phone watch or something? Maybe I can try to locate her position."
James paused, then quickly nodded, his fingers flying across his phone. "Isabella has a phone watch. She always wears it. I'll send you the watch's registration information now."
I asked the police for a computer, found a spot to sit down, and started searching for Isabella's location.
The location signal on the screen flickered on and off. I held my breath, constantly adjusting, until finally a vague position appeared—near an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city.
I couldn't pinpoint the exact location, so we had to split up to search.
We all arrived at the location together, each person going in a different direction, with other officers searching elsewhere.
I called out, "Isabella, where are you?"
Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me.
I quickly turned around—nothing there. When I turned back, something unknown was sprayed in my face, and then I lost consciousness.
When I woke up again, I was tied to a post with rope, and Isabella was right next to me.
Both our mouths were taped shut with duct tape—there was no way to call for help.
I kept praying in my heart, hoping they'd find us soon.
I heard many footsteps and knew they were coming.
The traffickers weren't flustered at all. Each held a knife to mine and Isabella's necks.
When they walked in, the traffickers threatened arrogantly, "Don't come closer! Take one more step, and we won't be nice to them!"
"What do you want? Money or something else—just name it. As long as you let them go, we can negotiate." James suppressed his rage, trying to keep his voice calm, though it still carried a cold edge. His eyes were fixed on the knives in the traffickers' hands, terrified we'd get hurt.
The trafficker sneered, "One hundred million dollars for one person. The other one we'll release once we're safe."
My heart sank. I hadn't expected the traffickers to be so cunning.
James's eyes churned with fury, his tone non-negotiable. "You have to release both together, or you won't get a single cent!"
"Cut the crap! Either do what I say, or let them both die." The trafficker pressed the knife down, and both Isabella's and my necks started bleeding.
James pressed his lips together, his gaze sweeping back and forth between us, unable to make a choice.
Isabella whimpered, trembling all over with fear.
Amelia hid behind James, sobbing softly. "James, what do we do? Isabella can't get hurt—she's your brother's only child."
James's expression was sharp and fierce, his face frighteningly dark.
On one side was his beloved little niece, on the other his wife in name only.
No one could make such a choice.
I understood.
Most likely, James would choose Isabella.