Chapter 298 He Might Be in Danger
Felix shot a wary glance at Frederick's dark, brooding face.
He thought, 'So, Amelia left because of Dylan?'
No wonder Frederick looked so upset.
"I'll check it out right away," Felix said, not daring to waste any time as he hurried out of Frederick's office.
Frederick slumped back on the sofa, his face etched with worry. The way Amelia had stormed out felt like a knife twisting in his chest, the pain spreading through him.
The Kasfee Hotel was always reserved for VIPs.
After Ken and Line checked in, the hotel stopped accepting other guests, focusing solely on them.
To ensure their safety, security around the hotel was tripled.
When Amelia arrived at the Kasfee Hotel, Cynthia and Harold were already there.
Harold was arguing with the security guards, demanding to see Dylan.
"Sorry, unless Mr. Angoulême requests to see you, we can't let you in," one of the guards said.
Harold's face twisted with anger. Knowing Dylan was inside made him furious.
He wanted to lash out with the whip in his hand.
Cynthia quickly pulled him back.
These guards weren't ordinary. Attacking them wouldn't just be pointless; it could get Harold detained.
Seeing Harold's aggressive stance, several more guards moved in to restrain him.
Harold was no match for these well-trained guards and was quickly subdued.
But he was still defiant.
Cynthia started crying, begging the guards to release Harold.
Amelia parked her car, hurried out, and quickly spoke to the guards.
"Don't get me wrong. I'm a friend of Mr. Angoulême..."
Before she could finish, the guard's walkie-talkie buzzed. "Let them in."
After getting the go-ahead, the guards released Harold and led the three of them into the hotel.
Cynthia grabbed Amelia's hand and whispered, "Ms. Davis, thank you."
"You're welcome," Amelia said, glancing at the still-fuming Harold. The guards had already confiscated his whip, but his face was still full of anger.
"Mr. Kingsley, once we're inside, please don't act impulsively. Stay calm and talk after we bring Dylan home," Amelia reminded him.
Harold drew in a deep breath, though his expression remained stern, a mix of disappointment and frustration clouding his features.
Despite Dylan's recent return home, Harold had hoped the past few months had imparted some wisdom to his son. Yet, to his dismay, Dylan's behavior hadn't changed one bit.
And this wasn't their hometown; this was Kasfee, a misstep here could tarnish not just Dylan's reputation but also cast shadows on the legacy of the Kingsley family.
They were led into the hotel by the guards. At the elevator, they had to go through another check and hand over all communication devices before they could enter.
Cynthia clung to Amelia's hand, looking particularly nervous.
Amelia had met Ken many times before in Fondaniss because of Dylan.
Back then, Ken had been easygoing and approachable, so Amelia hadn't felt much pressure.
This time, Amelia felt a bit on edge.
In the elevator, security personnel accompanied them.
When they stepped out, another group of guards led them to a suite.
The guards knocked on the suite door, but there was no response.
They had to wait.
After what felt like forever, the door finally opened.
A tall bodyguard from Fondaniss, dressed in a tailcoat, greeted them.
"Please, have a seat." He led them to the sofa and gestured for them to sit.
Harold, who had simmered with frustration earlier, now bore a more somber expression as they navigated through several stringent checkpoints, a sense of unease settling within him.
Even with all the resources the Kingsley family possessed, the imposing figure of Ken seemed beyond their reach, a realization that weighed heavily on Harold as he sank into the sofa, his countenance etched with concern.
Within the suite, moments stretched into an agonizing wait until the bedroom door finally creaked open, not revealing Ken as expected, but his newly-wedded wife, Line, gliding out with grace and poise.
Draped in elegant attire, she approached Amelia with a serene demeanor, offering a cordial greeting, "Ms. Davis, hello."
With a gentle smile, Line expressed, "I'd prefer if you addressed me as Mrs. Angoulême," her gaze shifting toward Cynthia and Harold before elaborating on Ken's absence.
"Ken's out at the moment, presumably with the young Mr. Kingsley. I believe they might be together," she disclosed calmly, taking a seat opposite Cynthia and Harold.
Harold, knitting his brows, inquired, "Any idea where they might be?"
Line chuckled lightly, her head shaking in negation, "I'm not privy to Ken's every move, and with him in Mr. Kingsley's company, I'm not overly concerned."
In the ensuing silence, Harold grappled with his thoughts, apprehension clinging to him like a shadow in the dimly lit room.
Cynthia cautiously observed Line, trying to figure out if she knew about Dylan and Ken.
Line had kept a polite smile since the beginning. If it weren't for making them wait at the door and then in the suite, Amelia might have thought Line didn't know about Dylan and Ken.
She was deliberately keeping them in check.
Amelia took a deep breath and said softly, "Since Dylan isn't here, we won't disturb you any longer."
She turned to Harold and Cynthia, "Mrs. Angoulême, sorry to disturb you."
Line smiled lightly and raised her hand slightly, showing no intention of keeping them, "Take care."
Amelia nodded, got up from the sofa, and said to Harold and Cynthia, "Mr. Kingsley, Mrs. Kingsley, let's go."
Harold and Cynthia quickly followed Amelia out.
As they reached the door, Line chuckled softly and said, "Since you're Mr. Dylan's friends and family, tell him to be Ken's plaything obediently and not to have any other thoughts. Ken will never divorce me. If his presence affects my family's interests or the Angoulême family's, he might be in danger."
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