Chapter 511

Somewhere overseas, in the basement of a swanky villa.

The room was bathed in shades of silver and white, with only a tiny window near the ceiling offering a glimpse of the outside world.

Tucked against the wall was a modest single bed.

In the middle of the room stood a matching set of silver-white furniture, a table, and chairs.

On one of those spindly chairs sat a man. He was lean, his skin ghostly pale, his face etched with exhaustion and a rough stubble.

Evangeline would have instantly recognized him. That man was her and Julia's father, Andrew. His eyes were empty, his presence like a shell devoid of a soul, as he sat there, going through the motions.

Jack, decked out in comfy clothes, his ocean-blue eyes narrowing, stretched out on his chair with a yawn before speaking at his own leisurely pace, "Andrew, how's it been, not seeing you around for a few days?"

Andrew's lips parted, dry and cracked. "How do you think it feels to be cooped up here without any idea why, for who