Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 291: And tonight....

~Night~

Davis ended the call, a sigh escaping his lips. His gaze lingered longer on her photo on the screen, his hand pausing slightly on her cheek.

Quietly, he dialed another number. After a few rings, a voice filtered through. "Davis?"

"Richard, I need your help concerning her."

Richard stiffened, his gaze sweeping the area. Noticing no one nearby, he sighed in relief.

"She came to the meeting alone?" His voice was low.

"I suspect so," Richard answered.

"No need to suspect. It’s a fact. I called her guard and discovered they never knew when she left the house," he reported helplessly.

He had called several times, but when she didn’t pick up, he was left with no other option than to contact her guards—who turned out to be unaware of her departure, as her usual car was still at home.

Davis did some deduction and arrived at one conclusion—she had gone out with another car.

Recalling she had mentioned checking out the venue, he concluded that Richard, being her manager, must be present.

"That’s how she is. She usually walks alone, and the guards stay at a distance since she doesn’t like having them around her," he explained.

Davis sighed. "Please take her home yourself. She shouldn’t be driving at this time. I’ve already sent her guards to her location."

"Is she aware?"

"No, and she doesn’t have to be. I just don’t want to risk anything going wrong with her," he replied.

Though he hadn’t entered this marriage willingly, now he wouldn’t want to lose it. Her presence had always been the force that kept him going.

"Alright," Richard answered, followed by a beep tone. After the call, Davis took a deep breath, relieved.

A glass of brandy in his hand, he slowly swirled the cup, his cold gaze fixed on the swirling drink, his mind spinning with thoughts. This night was sure to be restless.

Seated at the far end of the club, away from prying eyes, his countenance was cold, his aura domineering—keeping people several feet away. His wheelchair was nowhere in sight as he casually watched the activities around him.

rolling. A figure emerged

information you

"Alright," he said.

his subordinate dumbfounded—wondering where he was headed and what he was planning to do. The next minute, his eyes widened in trepidation as he watched Davis moving

hall. He rubbed his eyes,

in Country Y. Access came only with a certain membership level or the ability to defeat skillfully with minimal or no

a high price. But in the end, it depended on the

fear, he didn’t notice—he

subordinate thought for a while and made a decision: inform Ethan, increase security details. At most, it

Dim lights flickered above, casting elongated shadows on cracked concrete floors. Smoke curled lazily in the air, mingling with the scent of whiskey, sweat, and

and composed. His hands tucked neatly into his coat pockets

Chips froze

advance, peeled away from the walls, closing

muscles rippling

smirk

The name rang, but

central table, a tall figure with a slicked-back ponytail and a scar that ran from ear to jaw, froze, Sharp eyes, salt-and-pepper beard, and

asked.His gaze snapped toward Davis,

grin widening. "Spectrum, you’re not that old—don’t tell me dementia’s caught up with

this, the bouncers’ knuckles cracked, the room bristling with tension. Muscles

thudded beneath his slow, measured steps as he approached Davis, who hadn’t moved an

still, steady and

a hand, His crew

repeated, now standing inches from Davis, eyes studying every line of

gaze flicked over the crowd. A hundred

in front of him, eyes glinting with amusement. "I doubt we’ve met...

asked coolly, meeting Spectrum’s stare

A long pause.

Then a grin. "Deal."

cleared. Onlookers gathered, hungry for blood or brilliance. In this world, no names mattered. No

the deck. Cards

forward,

"High stakes?" he said.

Davis nodded. "Any time."