Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

194. Internet Cafe

When we park in front of the internet café on the other side of the road so the chances of the kidnapper noticing us are less, I feel such a sense of déjà vu that all the hairs on my neck rise with the tension that seems to be in the air.

Never did I think that I would have to be in this position, with two guns tucked into the waistband of my jeans, in a car with two guys and another speaking in my ear, waiting for a kidnapper to arrive so he could upload yet another video of my lover getting tortured.

If Mal’s prediction is correct, then the kidnapper had a video he would be unloading. Another montage of him physically assaulting Coraline, or doing something worse this time, and I will have to watch it for the third time. I feel such a sense of hatred when I think about it, and when I see a policeman around the corner of the town square, we’d parked right next to, I feel positively murderous. If they had done their job correctly, then I wouldn’t have to be here, I they had not been s