Chapter 472: Grandfather's Whereabouts

Chapter 472: Grandfather's Whereabouts

Emily's fingers froze mid-air.

The Campbell family?!

She bolted upright, the sudden movement sending a wave of dizziness crashing against her temples. She gripped the headboard, waiting for the black fog to clear, then grabbed her robe and threw it on. The woman in the mirror had disheveled hair and lingering flush from last night's breathless kisses, but she had no time to care about that now.

"Show him to the study. I'll be down in five."

She rushed into the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and swapped the robe for a black turtleneck and slacks. No makeup—just a hair tie pulled into a sharp ponytail that exposed her pale, angular features.

The study was at the end of the second-floor hallway, door slightly ajar. When Emily pushed it open, she saw a man she'd never met before.

He sat in the armchair by the window—though "sat" wasn't quite right. His posture was coiled, ready to spring. Mid-forties, graying temples, with a fresh scar running from eyebrow to jaw like something sharp had carved a path down his left cheek. His right hand was wrapped in gauze, dried blood staining it rust-brown.

But what caught Emily's attention most were his eyes. She'd seen that look before—in Fiona. The look of someone who'd witnessed too much death to be startled by any more.

The man stood, his movements restrained as if his body protested even this simple action. "Ms. Johnson. I'm Bobby. Mr. Beau Campbell asked me to... give you this."

He pulled something from his jacket and placed it on the desk.

A ring.

Emily's breath hitched.

She recognized it instantly. Black gold band with a coiled serpent, two obsidian eyes the size of rice grains glinting coldly in the morning light. Beau never took it off—rumor had it the ring contained a micro-communicator and GPS chip, his last lifeline.

"Mr. Campbell told me to deliver this to you."

Emily didn't reach for it immediately. She stared at the ring, feeling something sink slowly through her chest like ice falling into a deep well.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. Three days ago, when they were transferring us, I slipped away while the guards were distracted. Mr. Campbell shoved me into the ventilation shaft first. He said you'd understand."

"Understand what?"

Bobby lowered his head, bandaged fingers rubbing against his pants. "Mr. Campbell didn't leave a message. He just pressed the ring into my hand, then pushed me into the duct. What happened after... I don't know. Took me three days to shake the tail and find a contact point that led here."

"Three days. No word, no location ping, no one knows if he's alive or dead?"

"He's alive. I'm sure of it. They want him breathing. Mr. Campbell's value is in what he knows—not his corpse."

Emily finally picked up the ring. The black gold was ice-cold, the serpent's scales sharp against her fingertips.

"Who are they?"

"No idea. Some of their gear was outdated—looked like hired cannon fodder. Others were pros. Tactical coordination, electronic jammers... looked like Valerian mercenaries. They spoke all kinds of languages. I couldn't pin down a pattern."

Emily's pupils constricted sharply.

The fragments spun in her mind, refusing to form a complete picture. She remembered Charles's words from last night: "I suspect she's everyone's puppet."

"Anything else?"

Bobby shook his head. "Mr. Campbell didn't say a word. He just watched me climb into that duct. Then he smiled."

Emily closed her eyes.

Beau knew. He'd always known everything.

"Go rest. Fiona will set you up with a room. Don't leave the estate. Don't contact anyone—including your old network."

Bobby left. The door clicked softly behind him.

Emily stood alone in the study, morning light pouring through the window, casting gridded shadows across the floor. She opened her palm. The serpent ring lay there, obsidian eyes seeming to watch her.

For some reason, she suddenly thought of Anouk's gaze—that scrutiny hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses that sent chills down her spine.

She needed to see Charles. Now.

 

Charles arrived quickly. Emily pulled the ring from beneath her collar.

Charles's eyes narrowed when he saw it. He reached out, fingertips tracing the serpent's scales as if confirming something.

"Black gold serpent ring. Beau never took it off."

"Yeah. He said I'd understand. But I don't understand anything." Emily's voice carried a fragility she hated hearing in herself.

Charles took her hand. "Don't panic. We'll work through this. I've been investigating Beau too, actually. But the trail went cold."

"Cold where?"

Charles's expression shifted.

"Three leads. First one—a safe house on the Celestrian border. When our team arrived, all they found was a running respirator and bloodstains on the wall. Second—a private hospital in Sylvanor. Someone matching Beau's description was transferred out. We chased for two hours, only to find it was a decoy—a homeless man surgically altered to look like him. Third..." He paused for a long moment. "Three days ago in Phoenixia. Our people saw him being loaded into a black SUV. Plates obscured, but it was a G63 Mercedes, retrofitted with armor plating. We tracked it for forty miles before the signal got jammed. When we found the vehicle, it was abandoned in a tunnel. Empty."

"Forty miles. Enough to transfer him anywhere."

"Enough to put him at sea, in the air, or underground in another country. But here's the silver lining—all three times, Beau was conscious, unrestrained, even walking on his own. That means they need him cooperative. And that means, for now, his life isn't in immediate danger."

Emily closed her eyes.