Chapter 439

That’s what he said, but Penelope had a feeling something had happened to Theodore.

She rushed to the hotel, where Harold was already waiting at the entrance.

When he saw her, he hurried over in a panic.

“Ma’am, Mr. Stapleton didn’t want you to come. You tricked me!”

Penelope cleared her throat. “I was worried about him.”

“Mr. Stapleton’s injuries aren’t that serious…”

“He’s injured?”

Harold was speechless. As a man with dual master’s degrees in law and management, it was the first time he’d ever felt so foolish, tricked into spilling the beans by Penelope time and again.

“I know there’s no way I can get you to leave now, so I can take you up, but you have to follow my instructions.”

“No problem,” Penelope agreed readily.

They arrived at the presidential suite on the top floor. The hallway was lined with bodyguards, and the door was open, with uniformed nurses coming and going. When Penelope saw a nurse emerge with a tray of blood-soaked clothes, her heart sank.

“You must have a goddamn death wish!”

A loud thud echoed from inside, followed by the crash of what sounded like a glass being thrown against something before shattering on the floor.

The voice wasn’t Theodore’s; it was Hamilton’s.

Harold gestured for Penelope to be quiet, then ushered her inside during the bustle of nurses moving in and out. Before she could even glance into the living room, he pushed her into a dressing room.

Peeking through the crack in the door, she saw Theodore sitting on a black leather sofa, shirtless, as a doctor stitched up a wound on his abdomen.

He seemed to feel nothing, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark and stormy like the sea before a tempest. His gaze was as sharp as a knife, utterly chilling.

A man knelt before him, a bleeding gash on his forehead dripping blood down his face and pooling on the floor. Stilt reeling from the first blow, he was kicked hard, slamming into the corner of a marble coffee table. The impact struck his ribs causing veins to bulge on his forehead from the pain, but he didn’t dare make a sound.

He quickly knelt properly again, prostrating himself on the floor before Theodore.

“Mr. Stapleton, I was tricked by Steven, I swear! I didn’t know you were in the car!” he stammered, terrified out of his wits.

Penelope frowned at the mention of that name.

The man on the floor was Louis, and the ‘Steven’ he mentioned was Theodore’s uncle his biological uncle.

“You say you didn’t know who was in the car?” Hamilton, dressed in a black pinstripe suit with his handsan his pockets walked over to Louis and planted his foot on the mans shoulder. “Maybe I should have someone crack your head open to see if you even have a brain in there.”

“Hamilton, I really, really didn’t know,” Louis pleaded, on the verge of tears.

“What are you guys waiting for? Beat his brains out! I want to see if they’re made of water!”

Hamilton kicked Louis again, and several burly bodyguards stepped forward, each larger and more menacing than the last.

Terrified, Louis begged Theodore for mercy. “Mr. Stapleton, please, spare my pathetic life! I know I was wrong!”

Just then, the doctor finished

stitching Theodore’s wound.

Theodore thanked him, then flicked

a finger. All non-essential personnel and the door was closed

_filed out

from the outside.

He leaned forward, a simple movement that made Louis’ eyes tremble with fear.

“Mr. Stapleton, I was deceived.”

Theodore seemed to be toying with him. He smirked, leaned back, and asked Hamilton for a cigarette. Before Hamilton could respond, Louis scrambled to light it for him.

He took a few drags, as if to steady himself.

“You used a semi-truck carrying rebar to hit me. Afraid I wouldn’t die on the first try, were you?”