Chapter 519 Contacting Albert
Yvette and Clifford sat in the car, repeatedly dialing the number that refused to answer.
Clifford's lips grew increasingly pale, the color draining from his face. He didn't want to disappoint Yvette, but under these circumstances, it seemed unlikely they'd be able to wait for Albert's boat or for a helicopter to pick them up.
He furrowed his brow and turned to Yvette. "Do you know the number for anyone close to Mr. Valdemar?"
"He has an assistant," Yvette took a deep breath. "But I can't remember his number."
Whenever Yvette needed to contact Vincent, she'd either go through Albert directly or use the number saved in her phone. She'd never made an effort to memorize it.
"It's alright," Clifford said. "Take your time. I'll wait."
Yvette's brow furrowed in concentration, her thumb rubbing against her palm with a faint rustling sound. She stared at the device on Clifford's wrist—their only means of communication with the outside world—as if trying to extract some clue from the small device.
Her mind was a jumble, thoughts tangled like a ball of yarn, making it impossible to think clearly. She struggled to recall the phone number, but each time she tried to grasp the digits, they slipped through her fingers like sand.
Then a memory flashed before her eyes: once, when debating whether to contact Albert through Vincent, she'd stared at that string of numbers for a long time.
"I remember now!" Yvette's eyes flew open, a spark of excitement in them. "I'll tell you the number."
As Yvette recited the phone number to Clifford, who was about to dial, the driver in the front seat suddenly interrupted them.
"Mr. Clifford Hayes, I apologize for the interruption. Mr. Felix Hayes just called me."
Clifford and Yvette tensed immediately, exchanging a wary glance.
Clifford placed a finger to his lips, signaling Yvette to remain silent, then addressed the driver. "Answer it."
The driver picked up the call. "Mr. Hayes."
"Where the hell are you? Why are you and your car the only ones missing?" Felix's voice came through clearly.
The driver shot Clifford a panicked look.
Clifford placed his hand against his cheek and closed his eyes briefly.
Taking the cue, the driver followed Clifford's silent instruction. "Mr. Hayes, I'm sorry. I was patrolling and got a bit tired, so I fell asleep in the car."
"Get over here right now! Search the entire island!" Felix barked.
"Search?" The driver feigned confusion. "What am I looking for, Mr. Hayes?"
"Clifford and Yvette! They've escaped the island! But I'm worried they might be trying to mislead us, so I've left a few of you to search the island!"
"Right away, Mr. Hayes!" The driver deliberately started the engine, allowing the sound to travel through the phone to reassure Felix.
As expected, Felix hung up immediately.
Clifford knew they couldn't keep the driver with them any longer without risking exposure.
With a grave expression, he said, "Ms. Orlando, we need to get out. Let him go back and buy us some time while we figure out how to contact Mr. Valdemar."
"Alright." Yvette opened the car door, and the biting sea wind rushed in, instantly dispersing the warmth from inside.
She shivered involuntarily and looked back at Clifford with concern. "It's freezing out there. Will you be okay?"
"I'll be fine," Clifford said, helping Yvette out of the car. "Let's try to reach Vincent."
"Okay."
Their expressions were solemn; they both knew this might be their last chance.
Clifford took a deep breath and dialed Vincent's number.
The mechanical ring tone sounded only twice before Vincent's formal voice came through.
"Hello, this is the Valdemar Group."
Yvette and Clifford locked eyes, both brightening with hope.
Albert's fist connected with David's face with brutal precision.
The impact sent David reeling backward, but he didn't fall. Instead, he quickly regained his balance, ready to counterattack.
David swung back, his fist colliding with Albert's in a dull thud.
A flash of surprise crossed Albert's eyes, followed by intensified rage as he charged toward David.
Breathing heavily, David continued to taunt him. "What's wrong? Doesn't she twirl her hair like that when she's in bed with you?"
Albert's fury exploded. "Shut your mouth!" he growled.
The twins traded blows with savage intensity, each punch landing with bone-crushing force. They fought not like brothers but like mortal enemies.
Their silhouettes blurred as they moved, like lightning streaking across the sky, fists raining down on each other with merciless precision. The air around them seemed charged with electricity, thick with tension and danger.
Blood lust gleamed in Albert's eyes as he glared at David with unbridled hostility, looking ready to tear him apart.
David, still recovering from surgery and hampered by his leg, quickly found himself at a disadvantage. Albert's relentless assault soon had him on the defensive.
Falling back onto the sofa, David wiped his bleeding lip with the back of his hand, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. "Even if you beat me to death, what difference would it make?" he coughed. "You can't erase what happened, and the children won't come back to you, will they?"
Albert's raised fist froze in mid-air.
BoBo and CiCi were still in David's custody. Killing him now would accomplish nothing.
In that moment of hesitation, David saw his opportunity to strike back, but Albert caught his wrist mid-swing.
"David, some people are destined to live in another's shadow," Albert said, his voice cold as ice. "Haven't you learned that lesson yet?"
The color drained from David's face.
Just then, the already ajar door of the Valdemar Mansion swung open as someone rushed in.
Both men turned to see Vincent standing there, breathless and visibly anxious.
He gestured urgently to Albert while extending his phone. "There's an important call you need to take, sir."
The urgency in Vincent's voice made Albert furrow his brow as he took the phone.
Albert glanced back at David, who lay sprawled on the sofa, blood trickling from his lip, face bruised, yet still glaring at him with defiant eyes.
Despising that look, Albert stepped away and turned his back to take the call.
A deep, slightly raspy voice came through the line. "Mr. Valdemar?"
Albert paused, uncertain. "Who is this?"
Clifford's weak voice replied, "It's Clifford."
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