Chapter 163
"Her name is Charlotte Johnson."
"Ms. Charlotte Johnson?" The waiter thought carefully, his face uncertain. "I don't ... I don't really recall her."
Hearing this answer, Alexander felt a wave of disappointment.
Had Charlotte already left?
But that didn't seem like something she would do—it would look too much like running away. Besides, she hadn't said anything to Edward. He knew her well enough to know that Charlotte always handled herself. She wouldn't be that impulsive.
"Oh, wait, sir, I remember now." The waiter suddenly called out to Alexander. "About half an hour ago, I saw Ms. Johnson heading toward the bridal suite on the second floor."
At those words, Alexander's heart lurched, his eyes darkening.
What was she doing there?
The thought turned over in his mind, and he grew increasingly convinced something was off.
Without another thought, he strode quickly toward the bridal suite.
He soon reached the white door and found it slightly ajar—everything about it felt wrong.
Alexander pushed the door open, but the room was empty. A faint, sickly-sweet scent hung in the air.
The floor-to-ceiling window across the room was cracked like a spiderweb, and a metal decorative piece lay on the floor.
Taking in the scene, Alexander's first thought was immediate.
Had there been a struggle here?
Could it be... that Charlotte was in danger?
The possibility struck him like a thunderbolt.
He hurriedly pulled out his phone and dialed Charlotte's number.
A moment later, a cold mechanical voice answered: "We're sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off."
In an instant, Alexander's heart sank.
"Screeeech—"
Meanwhile, elsewhere, the screech of brakes tore through the air. After a violent jolt, the cargo truck finally came to a stop.
Almost simultaneously, the rope made a faint snap and broke.
Feeling her wrists come free, Charlotte breathed an internal sigh of relief.
But she didn't open her eyes immediately. Instead, she continued lying still.
Soon, she heard the sound of keys turning at the back of the truck.
Then, with a clatter, the door was pulled open from outside.
Harsh light flooded the dark cargo hold, making Charlotte's brow furrow imperceptibly.
"Get her out. Let's finish this job quick so we can get back."
The man with the rough, raspy voice spoke.
Hearing this, another man quickly jumped into the truck bed, cursing as he walked toward Charlotte.
"Damn, that road was hell. I feel like my back's about to give out."
"Crack!"
"Ahhh—"
The man's scream and the sound of bone breaking rang out simultaneously, shattering the quiet night.
The man waiting outside sensed something was wrong and immediately called out.
"What happened?"
Before he could finish, a dark figure lunged out from the cargo hold.
Before he could react, he felt a chill at the back of his neck.
Then a searing pain shot through him. His vision went black, and he collapsed limply to the ground.
It all happened in a flash—barely ten seconds.
After taking down both men, Charlotte tossed the tire iron she'd found at the truck's entrance onto the ground and shook out her wrists.
She then grabbed the rope she'd worn earlier and bound the two men tightly, stuffing their mouths with their own shirts.
Once that was done, she bent down and retrieved a vibrating phone from one of the kidnappers. On the screen was a text message that had just come in.
[Bring her to Warehouse 3 immediately. Payment upon completion.]
Seeing the sender labeled as "Employer," she narrowed her eyes.
This wasn't Chloe's number!
She looked around and realized she was at an abandoned dock. The air carried a briny smell mixed with rust and seawater.
Not far away stood a massive warehouse.
Charlotte's gaze turned cold.
That must be Warehouse 3.
After a moment's thought, her expression hardened, and she headed straight for the warehouse.
She wanted to know what connection Chloe had to her mother's kidnapping.
And what exactly was hidden in this place?
Charlotte circled around to the side of the warehouse and found a window.
The glass had been broken out, leaving only a dark, gaping opening.
She slipped through silently, landing lightly on the dusty floor.
She hid herself behind a pile of abandoned shipping containers and cautiously peered out. In the center of the warehouse floor, a group of men was gathered—some standing, some sitting.
More than a dozen of them, all built like thugs, their faces menacing.
Among them sat a man in a black tank top.
A thick gold chain hung around his neck, and he sat cross-legged on a worn-out sofa.
The moment Charlotte recognized him, her heart sank.
She knew him!
She'd seen his file while investigating Richard.
He was one of Richard's most trusted enforcers, nicknamed "Butcher." His methods and his heart were both ruthless.
The instant she identified him, all the pieces clicked together in Charlotte's mind.
Most likely, Chloe had contacted Richard's people and had them set up this ambush.
And if Chloe could reach Richard, that might mean she'd known about her mother's disappearance from the start—or even been involved!
Charlotte clenched her jaw, her eyes darkening.
Just as that thought crossed her mind, the warehouse's iron door suddenly swung open. One of the henchmen rushed in, looking panicked.
"Boss, we've got a problem! The two guys who went to pick up the package aren't answering. Their phones are completely dead!"
At those words, Butcher's face changed instantly. His cold, sinister eyes flared with murderous intent.
"Idiots! That woman must've escaped..."
He hurled the water bottle in his hand violently to the ground.
Water sprayed across the floor, splattering onto his shoes and leaving faint marks.
But he didn't care about such details. His voice was hoarse, but the killing intent beneath it was chilling. "Leave one squad to guard the warehouse. Everyone else, get out there and find! Bring them back alive, or bring their body!"
"And that woman—this place is remote. Without transportation, she won't get far. Even if you have to tear this whole dock apart, find her! Anyone who screws with our business needs to learn what it means to wish they were dead!"
"Yes, sir!"