Chapter 71 The Wrong Suspect
The call ended.
Vincent remained still for a second longer than necessary, the phone still pressed against his ear even after the line had gone dead. His jaw tightened slowly, the muscles in it shifting as if he were grinding down a thought he did not like.
Beside him, Joye turned fully in her seat, her brows drawing together.
“What is going on?” she asked, her voice quiet but insistent.
Vincent inhaled through his nose, then exhaled slowly. “I need to go.”
Joye blinked. “Go? Go where? What happened?”
She leaned closer, pestering now, anxiety already creeping into her tone. “Vincent… talk to me.”
He finally turned to her.
“Seraphina has been kidnapped.”
The words dropped heavily between them.
Joye’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
Her eyes widened in pure panic, the earlier softness in her expression vanishing instantly. “Kidnapped? How? When?”
Vincent stared ahead at the windshield, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“There are many reasons she could have been taken,” he said carefully. “It’s either her step family… or because of her son.”
Joye’s head snapped toward him. “But you told me the son is safe. You said nobody knows where he is.”
“Yes,” Vincent replied quietly. “He is safe.”
A pause.
“But sometimes,” he added, his voice lowering, “one can’t be careful enough.”
The implication alone made Joye’s chest rise and fall faster.
He finally faced her properly. His gaze softened slightly despite the urgency now clawing at him from within.
“As much as I would love to still spend time with you tonight,” he said, steady but regretful, “I have to go.”
Joye’s lips trembled.
Tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them, and she looked away quickly, sobbing silently. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I just… I hope nothing happens to Seraphina.”
Vincent watched her for a brief moment, a silent emotion wandering in his eyes.
“I’m hopeful too,” he said.
He leaned forward and pressed a short kiss against her lips. It was brief, restrained, yet felt.
“Bye.”
Joye sniffed, nodding weakly. She leaned in and pecked his cheek before opening the door and alighting from the car. Her steps were slower than usual as she walked back toward the house.
Vincent did not drive off immediately.
He watched her until she disappeared behind the gates.
Only then did his expression harden completely.
And the engine roared to life.
~
Julian’s car rolled to a smooth halt in front of the casino.
The neon lights reflected faintly against the polished body of the vehicle as he stepped out, already composed on the surface, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm underneath.
After a brief exchange at the entrance, one that ended with security stepping aside without resistance- he adjusted his black hat, pulling it slightly lower to cover the upper part of his face.
He walked in, his movements controlled but purposeful.
The sounds of slot machines and distant chatter filled the air, but his eyes were not wandering. They were searching.
It did not take long.
Across the hall, seated comfortably and playing a game as though the world was perfectly normal, was Damien. His twin brother.
He reached him.
And without warning, his hand shot out and snatched Damien by the neck.
Damien jerked violently in shock, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What the—”
His eyes widened as recognition hit.
“Julian?! What the fuck—”
A punch landed on his face before he could finish his words.
A sharp crack echoed, drawing immediate attention from nearby players. Damien’s head snapped to the side as he stumbled back, clutching his face.
“Someone call the police!” a voice shouted from behind.
Julian turned slightly, a bitter smile curving his lips.
“Call the police,” he aided mildly, his voice carrying more threat than volume. “And watch who the police bow to. And after that, I will have this place locked down… or better still- burnt.”
The room fell into uneasy silence.
None of his words was a bluff.
Damien spat a bit of blood to the side, then faced the onlookers with an annoyed scoff. “Don’t bother,” he muttered. “I’ve got this.”
Before anyone could interfere further, Julian grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the casino with brutal ease.
The cool night air hit them the moment the doors swung open.
Damien immediately slapped Julian’s hand away and straightened his rumpled shirt. “You must be completely deranged,” he snapped. “Embarrassing me in there like that?”
Julian did not respond to the accusation.
He only asked one thing that brought him here in the first place.
“Where is Seraphina?”
Damien blinked, confusion flashing across his face. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
In one swift motion, Julian pulled out a gun.
Damien let out a low whistle. “Woo-hoo,” he mocked, raising his hands slightly. “You’re going to kill me because you can’t find your sweet chaotic wife?”
A smirk tugged at his lips.
“Go ahead,” he continued coldly. “Then I’ll give the sweet order that a bullet should be shoved into her head.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“So,” he said slowly, “you were truly the one who kidnapped Sera… and ordered the kill of my driver.”
Damien’s expression shifted.
“You want to hear the truth?” he asked.
Julian cocked the gun without hesitation.
“If anything but the truth comes out of your mouth, I swear I will burn this whole building down with you in it.”
Damien felt his rage. And as much as it felt real, it amused him too. He loves seeing his twin in distress. It wasn’t every time one gets to see Julian like that.
He exhaled. “Fine.”
Julian’s grip on the gun remained steady.
Damien’s eyes dropped to the gun he was holding then back at him. His voice came out more serious now, “I am not the one who took her. I know nothing about it. I mean it.”
A beat passed.
Then Damien narrowed his eyes. “Is it even true that Seraphina has been taken… or are you just trying to find a reason to kill me?”
The silence that followed stretched thin.
And then—
Julian lowered the gun slightly.
Realization struck him like a physical force.
He was wasting time.
Every second he stood here was a second the real kidnappers were getting farther away.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fist slamming into the nearest wall.
The impact echoed.
Damien scoffed lightly, wiping the corner of his mouth. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “Something can actually make your emotions all over the place. I thought you didn’t do emotions.”
In the next second, Julian closed the distance between them so fast Damien barely registered the movement.
Julian leaned in, his voice dropping into a chilling whisper through gritted teeth.
“If I later find out that you are behind Seraphina’s kidnapping,” he said, each word deliberate, “I swear with my life… I will take your corpse home with my own hands. I would love to watch Victor cry.”
Damien froze, surprised by his choice of words that had their father’s name in it.
A car screeched to a stop nearby.
Vincent stepped out immediately, his eyes scanning the scene before rushing toward them. He reached Julian just as Julian released Damien with a rough jerk, causing him to stagger slightly.
“Boss,” Vincent called, alerted. “Is it him?”
Julian stared at Damien for a second longer before shaking his head once.
“I don’t think so.”
His mind moved rapidly now, replaying fragments.
He remembered his wedding day.
Keith had said he would love to meet Seraphina again- properly. Julian’s expression darkened.
He turned to Vincent. “I have someone to reach out to.”
Vincent’s brows furrowed. “You know who to—“
“If it’s not Damien,” Julian interrupted coldly, already moving toward his car, “then it’s Keith.”
The taste of his name on his tongue alone made something vicious coil inside his chest.
His insides churned with fury. And if it was actually Keith who took her, only God could save him from the cold hands of death tonight.
“Please be fine, Phine.” He muttered under his breath.