Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 298: What’s the problem?

Hearing the question, the voice at the other end of the line paused briefly.

"What happened?" Richard asked, his voice tight with anxiety as it filtered through the phone’s speaker.

Davis frowned slightly. "She was attacked," he said, his voice controlled, revealing nothing.

A sharp gasp broke through the line. Davis could already picture Richard’s expression—shock-stricken, pale, a hand probably pressed to his forehead.

"Impossible... Impossible!" Richard murmured repeatedly, as if trying to reject the news by sheer will.

Davis waited, calm but alert. Their paths had become intertwined through the same woman, and over time, Davis had come to regard Richard with the cautious but sincere respect one reserves for a brother.

"What exactly happened?" Davis asked, his voice steady but low with intensity. His mind was already set. He would get to the bottom of this. Whoever had a hand in it, no matter how deeply buried—would be brought into the light.

Richard took a deep breath. "Is she okay?" he asked, trying to compose himself. His voice was firm, but Davis could hear the strain beneath.

Richard couldn’t afford to raise suspicion. Tension between them could fracture the fragile balance they shared. Besides, being a man with his feelings, he couldn’t afford them having a rift when they are clearly bound by her.

"She’s okay for now," Davis replied coldly. "But that doesn’t mean she’s safe. Someone planned this. And I intend to find out who."

Richard exhaled slowly. "Alright. I’ll investigate from this end too," he said. Then, after a moment’s pause, he began narrating his account.

After his earlier conversation with Davis, Richard had ended the call and rushed out of the suite. He took the elevator, but a mechanical malfunction caused a ten-minute delay before it resumed its descent.

By the time he exited, she was gone. No trace. No clue. No sign of struggle. Just silence.

He had called her number, hoping to update her and take her home, but she declined the call—something she only did when she was truly occupied or didn’t want to talk.

Hearing this, Davis’s brow furrowed. "It sounds... premeditated," he murmured, a knowing smirk curling at the edge of his lips.

Richard sighed. "I thought the same. Someone’s watching her. Tracking her. But who?"

Davis was silent for a beat. "I just needed to hear what happened," he finally said. "I’ll pursue things from my end and if you get a hold on anything, do well to inform me."

"Same here," Richard responded, and the call ended.

Davis leaned back in his chair, eyes closed for a moment as he twirled a pen between his fingers. His mind was racing, threading through fragments of events.

The elevator incident. Her vanishing in ten minutes. All communication lines to her and the villa dead.

He opened his eyes, sharp with focus.

"No. This isn’t just Desmond’s doing," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "This reeks of something bigger."

A knock tapped softly at the door.

"Come in," Davis called.

Ethan stepped into the study, silent and observant. He took a deep breath and stood silently waiting for instructions.

Davis glanced toward him. "Aren’t you sitting?"

Ethan sat. "Did you look into it?"

Ethan nodded. "Just a bit of progress so far. But we’ll have to unravel this carefully."

Davis nodded in agreement.

"I also found this," Ethan said, pulling out a black chip about the size of a phone and handing it over.

Davis took the item, brows furrowed. He narrowed his eyes as he examined it.

"A network jammer?" he said with a smirk.

"Where did you find it?"

"In the utility room."

"The utility room?" Davis repeated, a thought flickering in his mind, a cold realization passing through his thoughts.

Davis placed the jammer on the desk. "Even the CCTV might have been affected," he murmured.

"Most likely," Ethan agreed. Otherwise, why haven’t they noticed any changes in the activities around them?

"This suggests someone from the inside’s been bought," he stated. Ethan nodded in agreement, the same thought troubling him.

"I managed to dig up something else too," Ethan said, handing over a folder.

Davis opened it slowly. Inside were grainy but clear photographs—Desmond, meeting with unknown individuals in various settings. Dimly lit rooms. Private parking garages. Hotel lounges.

"He’s probably mobilizing," Davis murmured. "Whatever he’s planning, he’s making sure there are no loose ends."

Without hesitation, Davis picked up his phone and dialed a number. After brief pleasantries, he spoke.

"Grandpa, I need you to look into something urgently. I’ll send you the details."

~Few hours later~

Hours passed quickly, the weight of the day thickening the atmosphere in the study. Davis and Ethan had switched to discussing the business at hand.

Davis went through several files and contracts they had at hand as their previous discussion concluded but far from over. Quietly giving instruction on the next line of actions.

The door creaked open gently.

Davis turned—and paused.

Jessica stood at the door in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Her hair fell in soft disarray, and a touch of confusion lingered on her face.

Davis stood at once, crossing the room in a few long strides. He pulled her into a hug, his hand cradling the back of her head.

"What’s wrong?" he asked softly, guiding her toward the study’s center.

She shook her head lightly. "Nothing. I just woke up and noticed you weren’t beside me."

He sat down in his chair and gently pulled her into his lap. She settled easily, head resting on his chest, eyes barely open.

"Weren’t you sleeping?" she asked again, voice drowsy.

"Had some things to go over with Ethan. Preparations for tomorrow."

There was no use hiding the truth from her. Jessica was too perceptive—and far too intelligent to deceive.

She nodded faintly, curling closer to him. From an outside view, the scene could easily be mistaken for a man holding a sleeping child, his fingers brushing her arm in soothing strokes.

Ethan, who had remained quiet the entire time, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The intimacy before him reminded him, painfully, that he was still very much single.

"My uncle sent a message earlier," Davis began quietly. "I’ll have to honor it. But there’s a complication."

Both Jessica and Ethan turned toward him, their expressions attentive.

"What’s the problem?" they asked in unison.

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