It all started with an unexpected incident.

Back then, Winston was just a boy–eight or nine years old.

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It was a gloomy day, the sky heavy with clouds. Winston had snuck out of the Ginger family estate to feed

a stray puppy.

But what he didn’t expect-

Was danger falling from the sky.

He was kidnapped.

Reading this, Jean couldn’t help but widen her eyes in shock. She muttered under her breath, “Kidnapped?”

She had been through that kind of trauma herself… It was a harrowing experience.

She hadn’t imagined Winston had gone through the same thing—at such a young age.

She quickly typed out a message to Dalton.

Jean: “Kidnapped? Are you serious? I can’t believe my brother went through something like that when he was just a kid.”

“Stuff like that

I’m telling

stayed quiet, letting Dalton

that looked like a palace, dressed

that age couldn’t possibly fight

into a dirty, chaotic van, tied up

the van sped away, carrying him farther and farther from

man who took him

slightest sign of

mercy.

and battered, the little boy endured

lose his

his parents would come

no

was a cold, silent man who’d never shown him any warmth… even if his

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No One to Rely

orbited his father, placing him above all else and hardly

would abandon their child in a life–threatening

Winston believed with all

hit harder

called Sienna, all

didn’t even pick

child, that

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