The Fake Son Is A Billionaire Young Master by Morningale

Chapter 62 Or do we, Mrs Malfoy

Or do we, Mrs. Malfoy? A gasp escaped the man's lips as cold water was splashed on his face. Coming back to life, he struggled against his restraints, his breath coming out in short, panicked bursts.

His eyes, wide, frantically swept around the dimly lit room, searching for any clue as to where he was.

The room was small, suffocating, and gave off an eerie sense. The walls were a faded shade of white, peeling in some areas, revealing the bleak grey concrete underneath.

The room was small, with only one lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and its weak light creating long, ominous shadows.

It seemed as though no one had been in there for a long time because of the musty smell in the air. = The chair he found himself bound to was old and worn. The wooden structure squeaked beneath his weight, and his wrists and ankles were bit by the rope that kept him securely in place.

The man strained against his bonds, desperate to break free and escape the foreboding atmosphere that surrounded him.

His eyes fell upon a small, barred window at the far end of the room, offering a glimpse of the outside world.

"Are you done staring?!" A sharp voice jolted him out of his reverie, hearing the voice. His eyes scanned around and

landed on two fellows. A green-haired huge guy and a blue-haired girl.

A frown came to his face as his memories began to flash back to him like a match connecting fire to fire.

laughing. "Peter Walker, sixty-nine years old, a father of one and an ex-convict. The mastermind of the serial killings of young girls thirty years ago. I am curious as to why a dangerous criminal such as yourself would

Control cursed

anger. He sauntered towards Peter wiio was struggling to free himself from the ropes. "Two days ago, you rammed your truck against a car,

dead? Both of them died even though only one was meant to? I'm too good at my job!" Before Spooky

knew you

Smartie, but he did want her

stories that have been buried deep but Smartie is just a seventeen-year-old girl. So Spooky

were you sent to kill? And who sent you?" Spooky asked, glaring

blood that was seeping out of his lips. "I have kept my eyes

to kill him. I truly

I could do as I had already received payment to

target of the person

to make

few rings, the caller's

Jeff. Should I look into this more?"

"Of course."

inquired. "You should really be careful, Iwon't say more than that." Saying that Spooky hung up the call and went back to the room. He wasn't really surprised when he saw that Smartie had beaten Peter

Spooky rolled his eyes. "Did he say anything?" "He did and I think I know where the culprit is" Smartie answered. "I can't believe I'm going to kidnap someone I was crushing on.

belongings, preparing himself to

Despiic his lingering