Chapter 201

The funeral was irreparably ruined.

Vincent didn't spare a glance for anyone as he stormed out. He left a small team behind, ostensibly to keep an eye on things.

Margaret and Raymond sank to their knees, sobbing uncontrollably, while Rena and Felix, their eyes swollen and red, struggled to console them.

Miles hesitated briefly before following Vincent out. "Vincent," he called out. "Hannah isn't really dead, is she?"

Vincent paused, fingers brushing the wristband on his wrist, and gave a bitter smile. "No one wishes she were still alive more than I do."

He would trade his own life for hers without hesitation. The mere thought of losing her was suffocating.

Miles frowned slightly. "Then why disrupt the funeral? Wouldn't you want Hannah to rest peacefully?"

"Because I felt like it." He loathed funerals. Those mournful colors were nothing but a painful reminder of Hannah's death. He despised them to such an extent that he couldn't help but tear it all down.

Without another word, Vincent continued walking away.

If anyone had paid attention, they'd notice that Vincent hadn't slept more than a total of three hours over the past few days. Each night, he'd drive to the spot of Hannah's accident, pacing restlessly until dawn.Then, he'd head straight back to the company, putting on a facade of normalcy, though his body was already nearing its breaking point.

The investigators he'd dispatched returned empty-handed. His complexion deteriorated by the day.

Derek, who had been following Vincent closely, grew increasingly worried. He even suggested Vincent drown his sorrow with large amounts of alcohol, hoping to numb his pain. But Vincent adamantly refused, saying only pain made him feel alive.

Derek knew Vincent was punishing himself. No amount of persuasion could change his mind.

Erica observed silently from the sidelines, knowing that interfering now would only make things worse. She believed time would eventually fade Hannah's memory from Vincent's mind.

One evening, while working late, Vincent received an anonymous email.

The sender provided no name-just a few provocative lines: "How does it feel to lose someone precious?The mighty CEO of Jones Group, brought low in anguish-when was the last time you felt this on edge?Watching you suffer has become my nightly entertainment."

Vincent immediately knew someone was spying on him. He typed quickly. "Who the hell are you?"

A prompt response arrived. "You must miss her terribly."

Vincent's hands trembled as he wrote. "Is she with you?"

Instead of another text, the sender forwarded a video.

Vincent opened it, and his eyes instantly filled with tears. It showed Hannah asleep, and he watched it dozens of times just to confirm she was indeed breathing.

Regaining composure, he sent another message."What do you want?"

The reply was chillingly clear. "Come to Riley Island alone-no bodyguards. Otherwise, you know exactly what will happen. Your wife is quite attractive. Cross me, and I'll have my fair share of fun with her before putting a bullet in her damn head."

Vincent's jaw clenched in rage. As he tried sending his response, it bounced back, undelivered.

He immediately summoned a hacker to track the email's IP, only to find it originated from a virtual,untraceable account. Clearly, he was the target. From the threatening tone, the culprit was obviously an enemy. He thoughtfully touched the wristband, formulating a strategy.

Vincent sent the wristband to Felix, instructing him to repair its tracking program, emphasizing the importance of accuracy.

Felix initially hesitated, but once he heard it involved Hannah, he fixedit overnight.

Vincent also instructed Felix that as soon as the tracking was activated, he must immediately notify Miles to arrange Hannah's rescue.

Late into the night, Vincent and his bodyguards meticulously examined maps, planning every step. Vincent would arrive first, alone, while his guards would approach discreetly from another island.

At dawn, Vincent boarded a private jet, bound for Riley Island.

When Hannah awoke, she discovered she was imprisoned. She was confined in a hotel room, heavily guarded outside.

Daily, she received good food and drink, but surveillance cameras constantly monitored her. She had repeatedly attempted excuses to leave, but her captors ignored every plea.

Without a phone or clock, Hannah lost track of how long she'd been held captive. She never met the mastermind behind her abduction or understood their real intent. Her mind raced anxiously-could Brinley have escaped from prison?

Suddenly, a deep male voice resonated outside, and finally, the tightly locked door swung open.

At last, she faced the orchestrator of her captivity. The man was short and wore a contemptuous sneer as he ordered, "Clean her up and get her ready. Our honored guest will arrive soon. Such a beautiful woman should look her best. WNe wouldn't want to disappoint."

Immediately, four women stepped forward, guiding Hannah forcefully from the room.