Chapter 239

Chapter 239

The chubby security guard leapt, his flesh wobbling with the movement. His eyes then flared with fury. The rotund security guard sprang up, his body jiggling with the effort. His eyes shot wide with anger.

"You madman! Assaulting someone in the open like that in the parking garage—and you dared to threaten Ms. Windsor? Do you have any idea whose territory this is? Do you know you almost cost me my job!"

Roy’s body still ached with pain. When he finally made out the guard's uniform, the harsh reality hit him.

He had failed.

A chill swept through his chest, and regret tightened around him. Why hadn’t he just taken the chance?

With Emily gone, would Delbert still honor his commitment to protect Roy's family?

He couldn't afford to dwell on it. No time to argue with the guard. Roy gritted his teeth, bracing himself against the ground as he struggled to rise.

Forgetting his injuries, he hobbled toward the parking garage exit, his steps desperate and uneven.

"You think you're escaping?!"

The guard's eyes bulged with anger. The idea of losing his easy job sparked a rush of adrenaline, and his stubby legs moved quickly as he chased after Roy.

"You're not going anywhere today!"

The ridiculous chase— a heavyset man versus a limping fugitive—played out across the barren concrete expanse.

Driven by panic, Roy sprinted without looking, his mind focused only on escape. Just as he neared the exit barrier, a fleet of black sedans appeared, skidding to a halt and cutting off his escape.

Roy stopped dead in his tracks, his face going ashen, drained of color.

The car doors opened in unison. A tall, sharply dressed figure emerged from the lead vehicle, moving with controlled ease.

Charles.

His eyes scanned the garage—the farcical chase, Roy's bruised state. He quickly pieced it all together.

His face hardened, turning as cold as stone.

Just twenty minutes ago, Emily had sent a distress call. The location? Her own company’s headquarters.

Had it been anyone else, Charles might have dismissed it as a joke. But with the history they shared, he couldn’t risk ignoring it. He’d called his team into action immediately.

Although the Windsor Group and Howard Group buildings weren’t far apart, the drive should’ve taken roughly half an hour. Even with his driver running multiple red lights, they’d only shaved off ten minutes at most.

Yet, there were still twenty minutes unaccounted for—twenty minutes where anything could have gone wrong.

Charles wasn’t about to take any chances with Emily’s safety.

His features were set in a hard, icy expression. When he spoke, his voice was cold and razor-sharp.

"Where. Is. Emily?"

Charles’s voice was icy. The out-of-breath guard almost crumpled to the ground upon seeing him. His heart raced in his chest, and his legs wobbled.

The cushy, well-paying security job? It had been set up thanks to the Howard Group’s influence.

Now, while he was in charge, something like this had happened. He knew he was finished.

Terrified, the guard doubled over and poured out everything in a frantic rush—Roy’s attempted assault, the baseball bat, his intention to cripple Ms. Windsor. He desperately tried to redirect Charles’s fury onto Roy.

Charles listened in silence, the murderous intent radiating from him almost tangible.

Without a word, he flicked his wrist.

His men moved at once, seizing Roy—still crumpled on the ground—and pinning him down. Fists and boots fell relentlessly, the sickening thud of each blow mingling with Roy’s agonized screams. He never even had the chance to beg.

Charles didn’t spare him a glance. He tapped rapidly on his phone, dialing Emily’s number, but the call went straight to a busy signal.

His jaw clenched as he seized the guard by the collar.

“Where did Emily go?”

The guard trembled all over, sweat streaming down his temples as his mind raced until he remembered—the platinum-haired guy who’d left with Emily, the one with the injured arm.

“M-Mr. Howard, I don’t know where Ms. Windsor is, but there was a blond man with her! His arm was hurt, and Ms. Windsor sent him away. It… it seemed like they were going to the hospital!”

Hospital. Injured man.

The first feeling to hit Charles was relief—thank God, Emily was unharmed.

Yet almost immediately, a surge of jealousy and irritation swept over him, stabbing sharply at his chest.

He swallowed it down. With a face as hard as stone, he barked orders for his men to restrain Roy and deliver him to the police. Then he walked back to his car, his voice cold as ice.

“Take me to the nearest hospital. Immediately.”

 

Meanwhile, inside the emergency room.

The doctor carefully tended to Drew’s arm. The results were worse than Emily had expected: a hairline fracture and severe soft tissue bruising. Layers of gauze and bandages were applied. Drew winced, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.

Yet when he caught the guilt in Emily’s eyes, he managed a soft, reassuring smile.

“Ms. Windsor, there’s no need to worry. It’s only a minor injury—just a few days of rest and I’ll be okay.”

Emily gazed at the thick white bandages around his arm. Were it not for her, he wouldn’t have been struck by the bat there. He wouldn’t be here, sitting with a fractured bone.

Noticing her still consumed by self-blame, Drew’s voice took on a lighter, almost teasing tone.

“You know, when we first met, I thought you were highly capable. Seems Ms. Windsor can also hold her own in a fight.”

Emily caught the teasing remark and didn’t take offense.

“Thanks for your help. If you hadn’t blocked him, I wouldn’t have gotten an opening.”

“Well, I couldn’t just stand by and let a lady get hurt.” Drew’s smile softened, sincerity in his tone. “Besides, we made a pretty solid team.”

“Still, thank you. I’ll take care of all your medical bills, recovery expenses, everything. If this impacts your work, I’ll make sure you’re compensated for that as well.”

Emily's tone was firm and businesslike.

Tilting his head slightly, Drew’s platinum hair shimmered under the fluorescent lights, making him resemble a figure from a classical painting.

He blinked calmly.

“No need to be so formal. Money isn’t an issue for me. And truly, anyone would have acted the same way in that situation.”

He hesitated, eyes briefly tracing her pale fingertips and the subtle disorder of her collar.

“And what about you, Ms. Windsor? After everything in that garage… are you certain you’re fine? Perhaps you should get yourself checked as well?”

Emily looked down, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her phone.

“I’m okay.”

In truth, this wasn’t her first encounter with danger. Her chances in a direct fight might not have been great, but she had at least forged a spine of steel.

Drew admired her resilience, yet he couldn’t help but wonder what had triggered today’s attack.

As he prepared to speak, Emily began searching through her bag.

She took out her phone and tapped the power button repeatedly. Nothing happened. The battery was dead.

Emily pressed her fingers to her temples.

Damn.

That persistent unease she’d been dismissing? Now she finally understood it.

She'd completely forgotten to update Charles.

In the chaos—beating Roy senseless, getting Drew to the ER—she'd totally blanked on the distress signal she'd sent.

Charles was probably losing his mind right now.