Chapter 178 The Fierce, Untamed Fire

Late into the night…

The house was heavy with tension. Everyone remained gathered in the living room, waiting–except for Nyla,

who had been too exhausted to keep up and was sent to rest by her grandsons.

Then, at last–Quentin strode in, his voice breaking the unbearable stillness. “We found the driver!”

The words had barely left his lips before Eric shot to his feet. “Where is he?”

Quentin didn’t hesitate. “Our people are on their way to him now.”

“Then let’s go.”

Eric’s voice was sharp, decisive.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

“Linda!”

She turned to Ernest, blinking in surprise. “What is it, Ernest?”

Ernest met her gaze, his expression unwavering. “We’re going too.”

What? Her hands curled slightly at her sides. Even in the dim light, the faint pallor in her face was noticeable. “We? But your health-”

“I’ll be fine.”

Ernest brushed aside any hesitation with a decisive wave of his hand. “Hadley is like a sister to me.”

How could he possibly sit back when his sister was missing?

His gaze snapped toward Linda, sharp and unyielding. “If you don’t want to come, then stay here.”

Linda’s fingers twitched, her forced smile barely holding. “What are you talking about?” she said lightly, masking the sting. “Of course, I’m worried about Hadley too.”

Like a sister?

The thought almost made her laugh. That was nothing more than a convenient excuse.

But she had no intention of staying behind–not when she needed to keep an eye on him.

Suppressing the flicker of irritation, she softened her tone. “I just don’t want you overexerting yourself.” With a smooth motion, she stepped forward, gripping the wheelchair handles. “Let’s go together.”

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Chapter 178 The Fierce, Untamed Fire

Ernest hesitated for a beat, but then nodded. “Alright.”

The night air was crisp, heavy with anticipation.

Eric stepped outside, his gaze sweeping over the lineup of cars. A flash of silver–gray caught his attention.

Denver. So, he hadn’t left?

Eric barely spared him a glance. If the man wanted to tag along, so be it. Without another thought, he slid into his own car as the convoy roared to life.

wheel, his knuckles turning white. A dull ache pulsed through his leg, growing sharper with every

fell thick and heavy, blanketing the deserted factory district in an eerie

no towering buildings in sight, just rows of dilapidated structures, their

a musty stench that clung to the concrete walls. Inside the low, shabby houses, the floor was

dangled from the ceiling, feeding into an old incandescent bulb that flickered with an

reeked of unease.

the dimly lit hall, a buzz–cut man, somewhere in his late thirties

welled up from exhaustion. “What’s this about?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s late. I need to

the moment Eric stepped inside. His gaze locked onto the buzz–cut

he strode toward the table, planting both hands on the surface, his body leaning forward. “Where’s my

blinked in

“Phillips!”

it toward the man’s face. “Look closely!

his voice dragging as he

real looker!”

question!” Phillips gritted his teeth. “Where did you take

as if sifting through his scattered thoughts.

left his lips. “How do you expect me to remember such details?”

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178 The Ferce, Untamed Fre

taking in the sheer number of men standing before him–the wealth, the power–he knew. This wasn’t

be tapped

I remember,

toward Eric, his

was clear. This man was the

in a slow, deliberate motion, his fingers rubbing together as if he

you what you want to know, what

stare turned

his voice snapping like a whip. “If the information is real, money’s not an issue!”

“Hold of.”

hand, halting Phillips in his

is it,

something near the man’s feet. His breath hitched, his body tensing as he slowly bent down, fingers closing around a red cashmere cardigan. Hadley’s.

like wildfire. A slow–burning fury that erupted all

brutal kick–sending the chair, and the man in it, crashing to the ground!

“Mr. Flynn!”

“Eric

Linda’s sharp gasp as she pushed Ernest’s wheelchair into the room.

it wasn’t

his collar and yanking him upright. Then -another

“Mr. Flynn!

visibly unsettled. This wasn’t like him

didn’t care.

voice a low, menacing growl. “Where is my

out

shifting toward the red cardigan clenched in

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woman is your wife?” he said, as if savoring the revelation.

back slightly, he exhaled with a smirk. “If you’d just said

beauty, that one…”

really want to push your luck today?‘

himself forward, fists flying–each punch landing with crushing force.

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