Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 94: You can’t sleep..

"Stay safe." Jessica’s voice continuously echoed in his head.

Davis’ fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms, his patience slipping faster than the seconds. His usually composed self was nowhere to be found, he was frustrated beyond recourse.

His gaze boring into Ethan, whose hand gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Ethan, what the hell do you think you’re doing?" Davis’ voice was low but menacing. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for her out there alone?"

Ethan swallowed hard but didn’t slow down. "Sir, I understood very well but she had a clear instructions she ordered me to—"

"To hell with her orders!" Davis snapped, slamming his fist on the door. "If anything happens to her, Ethan—" His voice, fear evident.

He felt his whole body drowning in regret and self blame.

"If I hadn’t wasted time drowning in despair... If I had just focused on recovering earlier...may be things would have been different," he mused gritting his teeth.

The thought of being unable to protect the one person who had stood by him, who had fought for him, was totally suffocating.

Last night, he had made the decision to revive all the units functioning under him immediately they returned to their own place but fate had another agenda.

Just a few hours, and they are under a well plotted attack. It seems that if Jessica had been in his life may be this time—he will lose his life for sure.

Then her voice came through the earpiece, faint and breathless.

"Davis, you won’t have Ethan’s head," she said, amusement laced in her words despite the situation. "Just be obedient. In an hour, you’ll see me."

Her voice wavered slightly. The background noise wasn’t lost on Davis—muffled voices, shuffling movements, a sharp intake of breath.

His chest tightened at the unimaginable. "Jessica," He screamed with suppressed groan, his voice hoarse. "Are you hurt?"

Silence.

finding its way to the pit of his stomach, his fingers

weak gasp

on the earpiece tightening. He had never

past strength haunted him—when people respected him, feared him. Now, here he was, stuck in the backseat of a car, waiting for someone else—

spiraled out of control "What if she doesn’t

accident, Davis did something he hadn’t done in

He prayed.

to regain his strength. Not for revenge —But for her, for her safe return, for

device again, light and teasing. "See you later." Then

never felt this great amount of threat. It was as though the perpretrator is fully prepared to wipe them from

tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his eyes darting to the side mirrors. The convoy

the cars were professionals, their expressions cold, their eyes sharp as they

to crown it all they

to think of it, they have never been able to find out who she is or her past "How deep does her influence run?" Ethan wondered. "She must be a Mafia or deeply connected with one."

a glance at Davis through the rearview mirror. His boss was rigid,

his fingers curled into a fist on his lap told

only seated in this car because he

to focus on the road. He wasn’t deaf to the urgency in Davis’ voice when

but he knew something was

him, he

liked the idea of running away from any

line as he muttered under his breath, "Thank

almost slipped out. If it had been Risa, she would

safe route, the backup, even ensuring Davis

not just capable.