Chapter 83 Don't We Have Any Pride Left?
Once Charles left the apartment complex, he settled into his car and dialed Mark's number, instructing him to start digging.
He couldn’t fully trust someone who had deceived him before.
Mark, already investigating Fred's case, was taken aback by yet another task from his boss and half-joked about deserving a raise. "You really want me to check into Miss Baker?”
"This isn't about your little crush, is it? Aren’t you getting a divorce from Miss Murphy because of her? What's there to investigate?"
“Just do what I asked, enough with the backtalk,” Charles said with icy detachment. “Find out when she was hospitalized, then track her whereabouts during that period.”
If the records were fabricated, matching hospital admission with her actual movements would be the crucible. An ordinary person doesn’t just check into a hospital for no reason.
"Alright," Mark replied, having no choice but to agree to the demands of the man who signs his paychecks.
After hanging up, Charles set the files on the passenger seat, as thoughts of recent events swirled in his head, bringing with them a wave of irritation.
He considered messaging the trio to hang out, but with Samuel about to join a film crew, he had to settle for calling the only one available.
Austin, still lounging at the bar, answered, “Now?”
“Yeah,” came Charles's flat response.
“Can’t make it. She just got back, and I’m catching up with her,” Austin replied in his typical easygoing manner. “Why don’t you come here instead?”
Under normal circumstances, Charles would steer clear of getting mixed up in someone else's scheme. But with today's events taking more twists than a mountain road, he found himself restless, and after snagging the address, he hopped into his car and drove off.
Meanwhile, over at Daphne's end, she had just wrapped up her errands when her phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message from Evan.
Evan: [Daffy, I need a superhero right now. Got into a bit of a scrape, Emperor Hotel room 520.]
Daphne: [What's wrong?]
After sending her message, Evan went silent. She didn't linger, though—worried about him, she grabbed her phone, hailed a cab, and hurried over.
It was over an hour before her ride pulled up to the place. Daphne rushed to Evan's room and knocked several times, but there was no answer.
"Evan."
"Evan, open up—it's me."
"Evan."
She knocked while dialing his number. The call connected, and she could hear a ringtone inside; it was unmistakably his.
In that instant, Daphne's concern spiked. Evan wasn't just a legal hotshot; he was an heir to the Winston dynasty, where family feuds thrived in the shadows. He'd had his fair share of ambushes in the past. This time, he'd come to Ivrea City without bodyguards or assistants, just a few folks from the local branch office, and the more she thought, the more her heart raced.
"Evan!" she called again.
Just as she was about to ask the front desk to unlock the door, it swung open. Daphne charged inside to find the room pitch black, devoid of any light.
Holding her phone forward for visibility, she stepped inside. "Evan?"
At that moment, a stick came hurtling towards her head. Before her mind could even react, her body instinctively caught it, and with a swift twist and a powerful yank, she sent the assailant flying over her shoulder with a thud.
The attacker hit the ground with a painful howl.
Quickly, Daphne realized the trap. Evan's use of her nickname 'Daffy' hadn't raised any suspicions—after all, only a handful in Gedser knew it, just old playmates, her 'dummy dad,' and a few relatives.
It was a bold move to impersonate him.
She pinned the person's hand with her foot and asked in a frigid tone, "Who are you, and where's Evan?"
"Boss, save me!" The voice beneath her shrieked, twisted with agony. "Ouch! Ahhh—It hurts!"
As the cries echoed, the curtains around the bed were flung open, and the room abruptly flooded with blinding sunlight streaming through the window, forcing her to squint her eyes shut.
And that's when the hidden figures launched another attack on Daphne.
They exploited that fleeting moment when a burst of light causes a person's instinctual flinch, their eyes to shut, or their hands to rise defensively.
"Thunk!"
The descending bat was caught squarely by Daphne.
The assailant: "!!!"
The others: "!!!"
Holy smokes!
What in the world? What just happened?
Why the heck did Daphne catch that? Doesn't she blink? Doesn’t she need a moment to adjust to the light?
And seriously, how is her hand not killing her after catching a bat swung with that much force?
"I'm asking you one last time—who are you, who sent you, and where is Evan now?" Daphne’s grip on the bat tightened as her icy stare fell on the six or seven individuals in the room.
A quick survey told her they were likely from some security firm, all donned in matching black suits, each with a baseball bat in hand.
Pity. Their moves didn't quite measure up.
The group instinctively looked to their lead, eyes pleading: Should we spill it? Daphne is no joke.
"You think we’ll talk just because you ask?" The leader, a lanky type, finally spoke up. "You think we have no pride?"
The guard with his hand pinned down: "?"
The second guard, bat still in Daphne's clutches: "?"
Both gave their leader pitiful looks.
Could this brazen posturing possibly wait until they were out of Daphne's clutches?
"Ah!" Guard one let out a scream. "It hurts, it hurts!"
Guard two shuddered.
What should he do? Beg for mercy?
"B-Boss..." he swallowed hard, clearly out of his element, "Maybe rescue us first before dealing with Daphne? This way, you’re disregarding our lives."
Guard one: "Yeah, yeah, yeah!"
Daphne: "..."
What kind of brainless buffoon hired these numbskulls?
Rookies?
"Are you an idiot?" The team leader’s ire was all for guard two, exasperated beyond belief, "She's holding your bat, not your hand. Just loosen your grip, and you're free!"
The rest of the onlookers nodded in unison: "Let go."
"But," guard two hesitated, swallowing fear, "If I let go, she'll have the bat. She’s already fierce without it; with it, wouldn’t we be doomed?"
Silence all around.
Daphne: "..."
The leader coughed lightly and commanded decisively: "Keep holding it, then. We’ll revisit this after the mission."
"For the team glory, sacrifice is a must."
"Stay strong. We're rooting for you."
One by one, his teammates chimed in encouragement.
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