CHAPTER 164: CHAPTER 164: FALLING INTO HUMAN TRAFFICKERS’ HANDS

Caleb Lockwood untied Claire Shaw, and Claire immediately threw herself into Caleb’s arms, crying:

"I thought I’d never see you again in this lifetime!"

"It’s okay now, it’s all okay, it’s over..."

Caleb gently patted Claire Shaw’s back to comfort her.

"I’m sorry, I came too late..."

Finding a place to exchange Bitcoin at this time isn’t easy, and Meridia is different from City A. While Caleb isn’t completely unfamiliar, his influence is certainly not as strong as it is in City A.

So he spent considerable time exchanging one hundred million into Bitcoin, simultaneously sending people to search within a half-hour drive of Lynton Grand Hotel for old apartments without surveillance and with beige marble-patterned wallpaper.

Heaven never disappoints the persistent, and he finally found the place where Dylan Quinn held Claire Shaw.

"Not late, not late at all... I’m already so grateful you came to save me..."

Claire raised her tear-stained, swollen face, and her eyes were full of gratitude and deep affection as she looked at Caleb.

"By the way, Caleb, where’s Dylan Quinn? I’m afraid he might harm you since you’re here..."

Claire tightly grasped Caleb’s hand.

Caleb felt Claire’s hand trembling.

"Don’t worry, I brought bodyguards, Dylan Quinn doesn’t dare do anything to me."

"That’s good... that’s good..."

Just as Claire tried to step forward, her legs gave way, and Caleb immediately scooped her up horizontally.

Claire leaned weakly against Caleb, her long, tear-drenched eyelashes trembling ceaselessly, clearly still shaken.

In this state and situation, anyone would feel a strong sympathy and affection towards Claire just by looking at her.

Serena Jennings should have already been taken onto the ship by Dylan Quinn, right?

Claire thought to herself.

Once they reach NM, Serena, alone and powerless, would be at Dylan Quinn’s mercy, unable to return despite cries for help to the heavens or the earth.

As long as Dylan wasn’t tired of her, she would be lucky. If he was, Serena might be sold to a brothel or end up in the hands of traffickers.

Imagining Serena’s tragic fate made Claire almost laugh out loud.

Serena, how dare you compete with me for a man!

Claire vowed silently.

The position of Caleb Lockwood’s wife was supposed to be hers.

If it weren’t for Serena, she wouldn’t have had to go through so much trouble.

Serena brought this on herself; there’s no one else to blame.

"Caleb, I thought this time... I would lose you..."

Claire murmured pitiably, her eyes closed.

"Never..."

"Then... will we be together forever?"

"...Hmm..."

Listening to Caleb’s promise, Claire’s injured face broke into a content smile.

"Back in juvenile detention, you also said that to me..."

Holding Claire, Caleb’s fingers twitched slightly, and after a moment of silence, he said "Hmm" again.

We will be together forever—

He had indeed said that to Ellie.

Caleb carried Claire back to the hotel, staying by her bedside.

Before rushing in to save Claire, he had made some preparations, urgently contacting people from all walks of life, fearing Dylan Quinn might have planted bombs in the room.

In the end, Dylan Quinn wasn’t as capable as he had imagined.

"Still haven’t found Dylan Quinn?"

Caleb asked Mr. Miller.

Mr. Miller shook his head.

"Keep searching, alive or dead, I need to see him."

"Yes."

After Mr. Miller left, Caleb saw that Claire was lying in bed as if asleep.

"Caleb..."

As he was about to stand up, he heard Claire’s muttering.

"Don’t leave... Caleb... don’t... don’t leave me alone..."

Claire frowned, cold sweat breaking out on her forehead; Caleb knew she was having a nightmare.

Ideal would have been attending the wedding abroad, but instead, a kidnapping occurred. Even when rescued, establishing a sense of security would be difficult both physically and mentally.

Caleb sat down again, only quietly leaving once Claire was truly asleep.

He instructed two bodyguards to guard Claire’s room door.

The hallway was silent.

The soles of Caleb’s shoes pressed on the thick carpet.

Making no sound.

When Caleb raised his head and saw room number 1237, he realized he’d unknowingly walked to his own room.

This room also belonged to Serena.

Caleb swiped the card to open the door; the room was pitch black.

No one had returned.

It was almost midnight.

The room was dark, the reflection in Caleb’s eyes making his gaze seem equally dark.

Caleb took out his phone and made a call.

The call was to Serena Jennings.

Based on the information Serena sent him earlier and Dylan Quinn’s words, Serena should have left the banquet with someone familiar, a man.

The busy tone echoed several times, lasting so long that Caleb thought the call wouldn’t connect.

It was at this moment that the call connected.

"Hello?"

From the receiver came a voice; it wasn’t Serena’s.

But a man’s.

Caleb slightly lowered his gaze, his eyes dark as the sea on a calm winter’s night, and as unfathomable as the deep ocean.

"Justin Nash... Is Serena with you?"

On the other end, Justin Nash paused.

He didn’t expect Caleb would recognize his voice.

"Yes."

He gave Caleb a direct answer.

"Let Serena take the call."

Caleb’s voice was as always, gentle yet cold, making it difficult to discern any emotional fluctuations.

"She can’t take the call."

Justin’s voice carried a hint of mockery.

Caleb slightly lifted his eyes, hearing Justin continue:

"She’s asleep, sleeping in my bed."

Justin’s tone was full of provocation, but Caleb responded with a light chuckle:

"A married woman sleeping in the bed of tomorrow’s groom... That’s quite thrilling."

With that, Caleb hung up.

His thumb remained on the phone screen until it cracked.

Under the night, the sea whispered, waves hitting reefs and beaches.

The wind was cold, the water cold, and the moonlight cold too.

Sand Dune Road No. 17, Sapphire Bay.

In daylight, it looked like a dazzling blue scarf.

This bay is private land, a Mediterranean-style coastal villa adorned like a radiant jewel on the scarf.

Yet at night, it appeared as a cage.

Justin Nash stood by the window, the damp sea breeze enveloping him, bringing bursts of saltiness.

He held a phone.

The phone belonged to Serena Jennings.

Behind him was a very spacious bedroom.

Opposite him wasn’t a wall, but a large floor-to-ceiling glass window.

Through the spotless glass, he could see Serena lying on the bed.

Serena was still unconscious, covered by a blanket, her drenched gown long removed.

It was Justin Nash who had personally taken it off.