Chapter 103 Blood for Blood
Max glanced at Liam, who was gripping his hand tightly and refusing to let go. With no time to argue, Max got into the car, and Liam wanted to follow.
But the car was too high for him.
He used both hands and feet, trying to climb up.
The man asked, "Mr. Foster, this is...?"
Max said, "Let him come with me."
"Yes, sir." The man lifted Liam into the car as well.
Back at the intensive care unit.
Alexander and the doctor stepped outside the hospital room, only to find Max and Liam nowhere in sight. His brow furrowed.
He grabbed a passing nurse and asked, "Have you seen two children?"
The nurse shook her head, then suddenly remembered something. "I think I saw a little boy get into the elevator earlier, but I might have been mistaken."
Alexander's expression sharpened. "Find them."
Thirty minutes later.
The hospital had mobilized all available staff, searching every floor from top to bottom, but Max and Liam were still nowhere to be found.
The two boys had seemingly vanished into thin air.
A doctor tried to reassure him. "Mr. Hayes, please don't worry. Perhaps the children just wandered off to play somewhere."
Alexander shook his head firmly. "Impossible." With Grace lying unconscious in bed, both Max and Liam had been beside themselves with worry—they wouldn't just run off to play.
Fearing something had happened, he instructed the doctor, "Check the security footage."
"Yes, we'll have someone pull up the surveillance immediately."
At the 24-hour convenience store.
Emily had just bought some heated ready-meals and was walking out of the store when a black sedan suddenly stopped in front of her, blocking her path.
Four burly men stepped out of the car—all muscle and intimidation, their powerful arms looking like they could snap someone's neck with one hand.
Emily was startled by this display of force.
Instinctively, she tried to go around them, but the four men walked directly toward her.
"Who are you people?" Emily asked in alarm.
They gave her no chance to struggle or resist, covering her mouth and striking her hard at the base of her neck.
Damn...
Emily felt as if lightning had struck her neck. Her vision went dark, and she collapsed unconscious.
Night fell, shrouding the entire city in darkness.
In an abandoned warehouse, rain suddenly began to pour.
Raindrops hammered against the skylights with a relentless patter.
Emily jolted awake, her head splitting with pain. When she opened her eyes, she found her hands and feet bound tightly to a pillar with rope that cut into her wrists and ankles. She was forced into a kneeling position on the ground.
Her first thought was that she'd been kidnapped.
But how was that possible?
Who would want to kidnap her?
Emily looked up and was startled by the sight of men in dark suits standing in two rows before her.
More than ten men in total, each wearing crisp black suits. They looked like mobsters, yet they lacked the casual air of street thugs. Every face was stern and unsmiling, their expressions cold and disciplined—clearly well-trained enforcers in expensive clothing.
These suited enforcers appeared to be from no ordinary background. The aura of violence they carried could only come from years of living on the edge, dancing with death.
Emily's eyes filled with terror!
Who were they? What kind of people were these?
How had she ended up here?
Countless questions swirled through her mind. Though terrified out of her wits, she tried to maintain her composure. "Who are you people? Why did you bring me here?"
The leader spoke in an especially deep voice, rough like gravel. "Ms. Blake, our Mr. Foster has some questions for you."
"Mr. Foster?" Emily gave a bitter laugh. "You've got the wrong person. I've never heard of any Mr. Foster, much less know him."
"You'll meet him soon enough."
From somewhere in the distance came the creak of a rusty iron door being pushed open.
Someone emerged from the darkness.
The two rows of men stood even straighter, maintaining solemn attention as one of them brought over a chair.
In the dim light, Max's figure came into Emily's view.
Emily's pupils dilated in shock. How could it be this kid?
"Mr. Foster, please have a seat."
Max sat down in the chair, his slender frame hidden beneath his clothes. Though he still looked like the same seven-year-old from Emily's memory, he was now completely different from the child she remembered.
He radiated an unmistakable aura of menace that sent chills down one's spine. His eyes held a sharp, cold intensity that, despite being somewhat restrained, couldn't hide its brutal edge—like some demon spawn born from darkness itself.
The icy atmosphere emanating from him filled every corner of the abandoned warehouse, creating an oppressive, murderous tension that made one's skin crawl.
Max lifted his gaze, his lashes lowered slightly as he glanced at Emily with ice-cold detachment. "Surprised?"
Emily managed, "How is it you?"
What exactly was this child's background?
Max had no interest in small talk or wasting words. He cut straight to the bone. "I'm asking you—how did my mommy fall from such a height? You'd better answer truthfully."
Emily paused, then replied without a hint of guilt, "You'll have to wait until your mommy wakes up to ask her. How would I know?"
Max raised an eyebrow. "Still playing dumb?"
Emily countered, "You don't actually suspect I pushed her down, do you?" She looked around at her surroundings, turning the tables. "Who are all these people? What do they do?"
Max grew impatient. "Before I answer your questions, you answer mine first. Was my mommy pushed by you?"
Emily snorted coldly. "I'm not interested in playing house with you here. Untie me immediately."
"Playing house?" Max let out a cold laugh and gave a subtle signal to one of his men.
The man immediately approached Emily, crouched down in front of her, and drew a short blade from his belt, pressing it hard against her face.
The sharp edge immediately drew a line of blood across her cheek!
Emily screamed!
This was a real knife!
Emily shrieked in terror, "Are you insane? Get that knife away from me! Away!"
Max asked coolly, "So, how do you like this game? Exciting enough for you?"
Emily stammered, "Who are these people really! Do you have any idea what you're doing?" She couldn't believe a seven-year-old child would play such a dangerous game.
Max said, "I don't like repeating myself. I want you to answer my previous question."
Emily panicked. "I don't know what you're asking about. I don't know anything."
Max said icily, "Won't talk? Then we'll beat it out of you."
The group of black-clad men immediately moved toward Emily, surrounding her completely.
Emily's face went white with terror. "What are you going to do? You..."
"Wait." Max suddenly thought of something and said slowly, "Mommy always taught me that boys should be gentlemen toward girls—that we should never hit women. So instead... why don't we ruin her face?"