Chapter 186 He Can't Afford to Wait Any Longer
But Armando clearly hadn't seen through Alexander completely.
He might look out of control, but the truth was, Alexander had never been the type to sit around waiting for death. He'd never been the type to trust anyone fully—not even his own father.
Growing up in Grandhaven, a place soaked in power, betrayal, and blood, he'd learned early that the deadliest knife usually came from the most unexpected direction.
He'd planted his own "nails" long ago.
Twelve days.
Twelve full days and nights locked in this dim stone cell with nothing but a single ventilation window.
At first, Alexander had raged. Then he'd gone quiet. Finally, he'd seemed broken—hollow.
It fooled the guards. It fooled Armando, at least temporarily.
But what they didn't know was that those twelve days of silence were just Alexander watching. Waiting.
Years ago, during his most brutal clashes with Linus, he'd started placing his own people inside his father's circle.
Over these past days, every piece of information from Armando's side—anything short of absolute classified intel—had made its way to Alexander's ears.
He had what he needed now. He couldn't wait any longer.
Every extra day meant another day Caroline was in danger on that island.
On the twelfth night, the moon hung dark and heavy.
Outside the thick iron door of the underground cell, a soft tapping sound came—three long, two short, repeated twice.
Alexander's eyes snapped open.
His people were here.
The iron door cracked open just enough for a figure in a gardener's uniform to slip inside, carrying a set of keys and clean clothes.
The man moved quickly, bowing his head respectfully as he whispered, "Sir, everything's ready. Two decoys are in the backup cells—similar build to yours, close enough to pass in the dark. Liam and the others have already been extracted. They're waiting at exit C. The car and helicopter are standing by at the old dock. We can leave anytime."
Alexander didn't waste words. He stood, took the clothes, and changed fast.
Then he accepted the silicone mask and wig that had been prepared, fitting them on with practiced speed.
Seconds later, the man in the mirror had become an ordinary young guard.
"Let's go," he said quietly.
The two slipped out of the cell, locking the door softly behind them.
The hallway lights were dim. They didn't dare use a flashlight, moving along the wall instead.
Luckily, they passed several checkpoints without incident.
But just as they neared the passage leading to the backup exit, familiar footsteps echoed from the stairwell ahead.
Alexander's chest tightened. He signaled his companion immediately.
Both men darted into a nearby storage room, holding their breath.
"Father, are you sure about this? Alexander is still..." A young voice drifted closer, low and uncertain.
Alexander's lips curved into a cold smile.
Armando had an illegitimate son. That hadn't been a secret to Alexander for a long time.
What surprised him was that Armando would bring the boy here so brazenly.
The man beside Alexander looked startled, but quickly lowered his head, accepting the reality.
"Shut up!" Armando snapped at his younger son, Carl.
"You sound like a bleeding heart! Look at him now—willing to tear apart the family's foundation for some woman! A successor like that will drag the Hamilton family straight into the abyss! I'm saving him. I'm saving this family. Once we deal with that poison and the bastard in her belly, he'll cool down. He'll understand. As for Celeste... hmph. If she's smart and delivers a healthy child, she'll still have a place. If she's not..."
Armando didn't finish, but the implication was clear.
Alexander's head jerked up.
Celeste was back?
He glanced at his companion.
In the darkness, the man shook his head—this was Armando's private arrangement. He hadn't known.
Outside, Armando paused, then gave an order. "Go check on him again. Put something in his food to keep him docile. Once Celeste succeeds and the island situation is cleaned up, we'll decide what to do with him."
"Yes, sir." A guard's footsteps headed toward the cell.
Inside the storage room, Alexander's body went rigid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Cleaned up? His father was really going to move against her—and the child in her belly.
And from the sound of it, Celeste was already involved. She might already be on her way to the island.
He couldn't wait any longer.
He had to get to Caroline. Now.
The footsteps faded. Armando seemed to be leaving with Carl.
Alexander and his companion waited a few more minutes, confirming the coast was clear before slipping out of the storage room and heading for the exit.
But just as they were about to reach the relatively safe service area of the old estate, a sharp voice cut through the silence.
"Stop right there!"
Heavy footsteps rushed toward them.
He'd been spotted.
Alexander's instincts screamed, but he didn't slow down. He hissed at his companion, "Don't stop! Get out!"
"Stop them!"
The shout behind them grew more urgent. Guns were being loaded.
His companion reacted instantly, spinning around and flicking a silenced pistol from his sleeve.
Two muffled shots. The two guards in front dropped.
The next second, more men poured around the corner.
"This way! Hurry!" His companion shoved open a small door leading to an underground maintenance tunnel and shouted at Alexander.
Alexander didn't hesitate. He ducked inside.
His companion followed, slamming the door shut and jamming an iron rod through the latch.
The moment the door closed, violent pounding started from the other side, along with shouted curses.
The two men didn't look back. They ran.
Behind them, the pounding grew louder. The door wouldn't hold much longer.
Just as they neared the tunnel's other exit, the door finally gave way.
Chaotic footsteps flooded in behind them.
"Here!" His companion shoved open a rusted iron gate ahead.
Alexander darted through.
But the moment they emerged, blinding lights slammed into them, forcing them to shield their eyes.
In the glare, Armando stepped out of a black stretch limousine, surrounded by a wall of bodyguards.
"You thought you could run?" Armando's laugh was cold.
"Alexander. Did you really think your father was some kind of fool you could play?"