Chapter 103
Ethan Sullivan was jolted awake by blinding sunlight.
His eyes flew open. A dull throbbing pulsed at his temples. Every muscle in his body ached as if he'd been run over by a truck.
He instinctively raised a hand to rub his temple—then froze. His right fist was clenched around something.
The woven charm bracelet glimmered faintly in the morning light.
Memories crashed over him like a tidal wave.
Ethan's pupils constricted violently. His grip on the bracelet turned white-knuckled. Fragmented scenes from last night's drunken stupor flashed through his mind—especially the words he'd said to Julian Langley.
"Damn it."
He cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. The stench of alcohol clung to his wrinkled shirt.
Steam fogged the bathroom mirror.
Hot water cascaded over Ethan's tense muscles as he stood motionless under the shower. He inhaled sharply before opening his eyes, resolve flashing in their depths.
If Evelyn Laurent really was his lost Xi Xi...
The thought made his pulse accelerate. He would never let her slip away again.
Vincent Sullivan was reading the newspaper when Ethan descended the stairs.
"Dad, I'm heading out."
Ethan strode past without stopping for breakfast.
Vincent lowered the paper, watching his son's retreating back with knowing eyes. Only after the front door slammed did he set the newspaper aside, an unconscious smile tugging at his lips.
"You seem pleased this morning, sir?"
The butler approached with a tea tray.
"Harrison," Vincent accepted the cup, "have you ever seen Ethan drunk before?"
The older man shook his head. "The young master has always been exceedingly disciplined."
"Precisely." Vincent sipped his tea, eyes glinting shrewdly. "Someone made him lose control."
Their gazes met in silent understanding.
——
The black Maybach tore through city streets.
Ethan activated his Bluetooth headset, voice glacial. "Report."
"Got everything." Harrison Whitmore's voice carried faint moans in the background. "Miss Evelyn Laurent was indeed kidnapped years ago. The Lowells knew and deliberately concealed—"
A muffled thud interrupted him.
"Continue." Ethan's eyes darkened dangerously.
"She escaped on her own. After returning, she wore a necklace constantly until it somehow got lost. As for where she was held..." Harrison paused. "Miss Evelyn herself doesn't remember."
Ethan slammed the brakes.
Tires screeched against asphalt.
"Confirmed?"
"Verified through...persuasive methods." Harrison glanced at the barely conscious Vincent Lowell. "He wouldn't dare lie now."
Ethan's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel.
Memory loss... This complication he hadn't anticipated.