PAMPERED BY MY THREE BROTHERS: THE RETURN OF THE NEGLECTED HEIRESS-Chapter 1825: Hey, Dad.

After sending his men off, the guys—Wild, Haines, and Lester—received a tip from somewhere. They didn’t detail how they got the information, but according to them, there were a few underground tunnels they could use, spread all across the mansion.

Using that information, Charles ordered his men—who had already infiltrated the mansion—to check this information out. Thankfully, the information proved true. After all, inside the mansion, groups of Nathalie’s men guarded all entrances and exits.

Which explained how Charles could make a small camp just outside the mansion. Well, they weren’t necessarily close, but from where they were, there was a secret entrance that connected directly to the mansion.

"Zoren’s men are already inside, and from what I hear, things are already heated," he said to the people in front of him. He pressed on the hand-drawn map spread on the ground, which was in the center of all of them.

"These circles are where the rest of the secret tunnels are. You may use them for entry to get past the crossfire safely," he sighed heavily. "But half of you, go straight to the gate to help our people."

He looked up at everyone, then picked up the map. "Just take the damn thing and go."

"Yes, sir!" the guy who was slapped on the chest with the map shouted. And with that, he faced his team and tipped his head. "We’re going straight to the gates."

He then handed the map to another one, as his team would rather go straight to the gates. It was easier that way. The other groups checked the map briefly before they started moving as well.

Charles, on the other hand, kept his communications open. He just stayed behind with a few of his men to make sure the other teams could find him, and they were briefed. But looking at the last group that came in, there was one thing Charles couldn’t help but notice.

’Hugo’s not here,’ he thought. ’He hasn’t come back since he drew the enemy’s attention from Atlas’s and Zoren’s car.’

His jaw tightened as his heart clenched, swallowing the tension in his throat as he shook his head.

’He’s going to be fine. He’s a soldier, the best of the best. So, he will be fine,’ was what he told himself, marching to where their little makeshift camp was.

But on his way there, he stopped as someone came up to his side.

"Sir!" The man stopped and leaned closer, making Charles lower his head a bit to listen.

Charles raised his brows and nodded. "Help them all out."

With that, the groups in the area busied themselves with different tasks. Some had already left to join the party in the mansion, others to the other entrances and exits. A very few stayed behind just to make sure they had a place for anyone who would be injured.

After all, they all had to make sure they came back alive.

---

Meanwhile, Charles and the soldiers with him stood by the underground entrance. What the soldier told them was that Angelo and his team were able to recover some hostages in the mansion. And that they were heading out to take the hostages out of the danger zone.

So, some soldiers went inside to help the group.

Soon, Charles could see people approaching the underground. He stepped to the side, brows knitting, watching the first soldiers carry some people on stretchers. His face twisted upon seeing their injuries. One that stood out was their twisted ankles.

"Goodness," he breathed out, watching more of them being carried out. He wasn’t even surprised, considering how cruel this organization was. However, his heart was definitely with them.

To his horror, those were not the only surprises he would get. Because from one of the stretchers, the people who followed were children.

He froze, eyes wide, watching the children be carried by the soldiers or assisted by them. Slowly, his hands balled into tight fists as his jaw tightened.

’That woman...’ he thought. ’Although she wasn’t the first I’d know to be such a cruel person, it is still—’

A sharp breath escaped him, shaking his head a bit as he closed his eyes. As a parent, his heart broke differently for these children—even though his kids were already adults.

More people came from behind: more men, women, children, and a very few elderly. All of them were placed on the side, while some soldiers who had medical knowledge rushed to them. Even so, it was obvious at this point, that the medics he had taken with him weren’t enough.

"Major!" Just then, Angelo’s voice was heard, catching Charles’ attention. The latter snapped his eyes at him, as he was the last to come out.

"Good work." Charles jerked his chin mildly, but then his brows crinkled as he caught someone trailing behind Angelo.

Deep lines appeared between his brows, but he didn’t think much of it. It could be just another soldier with Angelo.

"Those hostages were in really horrible shape," said Charles, eyes shifting to where the hostages were being taken. And in a way, it reminded him of his own experience when he was tortured. "We should take them to the hospital as soon as possible."

Angelo stopped by his side and nodded, eyes on where Charles was looking. "I’ll send my men once they’re sure that the road is clear. Hopefully, they’ll find a better hospital or clinic on this island."

"They have it for sure," Charles answered. "If there’s a community here, then there’s at least a clinic."

"But that means we are only looking at one healer." Angelo snapped his eyes to his side. "By the way, Major, I also caught this one. He’s the one who helped these hostages... or some sort."

Charles furrowed his brows, catching Angelo pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Curious, he turned around to check the person Angelo was talking about.

At first, he didn’t recognize the young man, mainly because of the unruly hair covering his forehead. But another second later, Charles’ jaw dropped as his eyes went wide.

"Slater?!" he gasped. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

This time, Angelo was the one who was confused. "Huh? You don’t know your son is here?"

"Heh..." Slater let out an awkward laugh before he smiled in defeat. "Hey, Dad."

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