Peter's lips curled up into a nonchalant smile as he responded, "There's no need for that. Come with me." He turned around and began walking in the direction where his men had taken Chloe and Margret Owen.As they arrived on the brightly lit roof, the wind whistled through the night. Charlie Sr's voice was cold as he demanded, "Where is she?"Peter grinned wickedly and replied, "There's no need to rush." He gestured towards his men, who brought Chloe and Margret Owen forward with guns trained on them."Charlie, you have a choice to make," Peter said with a smile. "Choose between Chloe or Margret Owen."Charlie Sr looked at Peter with disdain and retorted, "Do you really expect me to choose your wife, Peter?"Chloe's fists clenched, and her face turned pale as Peter's boisterous laughter echoed through the open space. "Chloe, did you hear him? He doesn't care whether you live or not. Is that the man you claim to love? How foolish could you be?" he jeered at her.Suddenly, one of Peter'

Charlie Sr was startled the moment the transaction failed, Margret quickly realised his cards has also been blocked from accessing his accounts."Try mine" Margret stretched her arm forward and handed over her card to the receptionist.Charlie Sr flushed in embarrassment, he didn't expect his yet-to-be wife to be the person taking good care of him barely an hour after he engaged her in a terrible setting.He clenched his fists secretly while feeling awful. Margret knew the thoughts that were running through his mind.She held his arm, Charlie Sr looked down at her pretty face and smiled ruefully, "Charlie" she called out his name softly."Madam, here is your card, do have a lovely night our special guests," the receptionist said with a big smile.Margret retrieved the card and the hotel porter boy came forward and escorted them to their room.When the two of them walked inside the room.Charlie Sr held Margret's hands tenderly before he apologised "Margret, I am deeply sorry you are f

Charlie Sr. suddenly stood up from his seat and rushed out of the private room without giving Hill any explanation. He quickly got into his car and started driving, expertly manoeuvring through the traffic. As he drove closer to the scene, he could see a massive fire in the distance on his car's widescreen. His heart raced with fear, and he pressed down on the accelerator, increasing his speed. As he approached the location, he slammed on the brakes, causing the tires to screech as the car came to a stop. Charlie Sr. stepped out of the vehicle and looked at the thick smoke rising into the sky, his eyes turning red with tears.Amidst the crowd attempting to extinguish the flames, a voice cried out, "Call the fire service!" Charlie Sr. promptly kicked down the gate and covered his nose with his coat as he shouted out for his wife, Margaret. Surveying the burning house, Charlie Sr. saw that half of it had already been devoured by the raging fire, including the entrance. Frustrated and

Charlie Sr.'s fists clenched tightly, emitting a cracking sound as his cold gaze locked onto Hill. "Where is my wife?" he demanded in a deep, unwavering voice. Hill snorted derisively. "Even in the face of death, all you care about is Margret? Do you really think I don't have the guts to kill you?" "I don't care. Where is she?" Charlie Sr. snapped, taking a step closer to Hill. Hill's finger twitched on the trigger, and a bullet shattered the asphalt, halting Charlie Sr.'s advance. Frustration etched across his face, Charlie Sr. clenched his fists tightly. "Take one more step, and I'll shoot," Hill threatened before retreating to his car and speeding off. With a rueful sigh, Charlie Sr. got into his own vehicle and drove straight to the police station for help. After exchanging pleasantries with the sheriff, Charlie Sr. settled down to narrate his ordeal. The sheriff approached Charlie Sr. cautiously, curious as to why such a prominent figure had come to the police station. "Ma

After they both fell asleep, Margaret Owen woke up the following day to find Charlie Sr. still in bed, his face pale. Concerned, she placed her palm on his forehead and noticed he was burning up. "You have a fever," she said to him. "I'm fine," Charlie Sr. replied in a hoarse voice. Margaret knew he wouldn't admit to feeling ill, so she called a doctor and fetched a bowl of water. With clean clothes, she began wiping his body with the cold water-soaked cloth. "I've called a doctor," she told him seriously. Charlie Sr. opened his heavy eyelids and said, "Thanks, Margaret, but it's just a fever. I'll be alright." Margaret shook her head and insisted, "You're not alright, Charlie. As your wife, I have to take care of you." Charlie Sr. stopped complaining abruptly when there was a knock at the door. Margaret got up and walked over to answer it, revealing a man in his late thirties on the other side."Please come in, Doctor Mill," Margret Owen welcomed the doctor as she opened the do