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.

Control burst out 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.

Control cursed

Peter wiio was struggling to free himself from the ropes. "Two days ago, you rammed

my job!" Before Spooky could reply to him, Smart Control launched

just brought Slim along if I knew you wouldn't be able to keep

Smartie, but he did want her to understand that emotions should be controlled

that have been buried deep but Smartie is

you sent to kill? And who

was seeping out of his lips. "I have

given the job to kill him. I truly did not want

more life, but there was nothing I could do as I had already received

was the intended target of the person

to make a

few rings, the caller's voice came

"The target is Jeff. Should I

"Of course."

hung up the call and went back to the room. He wasn't really surprised when he

I'm going to kidnap someone I was crushing on. Anyway, sinners can't go scot-free." "What about you?" "I will be punished

Jeff gathered his belongings, preparing himself

any feedback. Despiic his lingering physical pain,