With those comforting words, Cedrick felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“You’ve been taking care of Benny all day long. Rest early. Let me be the one to watch over him at
night,” he said.
Charles, never one to mince words, half-jokingly responded, “Being his biological father, it would be
good for you to spend a little more time with him. Otherwise, when Benny grows up, he might be closer
to me than to you.”
“I’m not going to pamper my son. If he dares to be closer to you than me, I’ll give him a lesson he won’t
forget,” Cedrick replied without a hint of hesitation.
Charles was momentarily taken aback. With a snort, he said, “Benny must have accumulated some
seriously bad karma in his past life to be reincarnated as your son. He’s only three months old, and
you’re already contemplating how to discipline him in the future.”
Arching an eyebrow, Cedrick gave him an unwavering look.
Chuckling, Charles continued, “Considering Benny’s fragile health, we should check for any remnants
of the S404 RNA virus in his body as he grows older. He may need to take medication for the long term
to ensure his well-being. With his delicate health, he requires tender care. I don’t believe for a second
that you could ever bear laying a hand on him, and even if you could, I highly doubt Gwen would ever
agree.”
Cedrick remained silent at that.
Gwendolyn’s unwavering devotion to their two children often made Cedrick feel a twinge of envy. He
couldn’t help but think that they held a higher place in her heart than he did. Even slightly rough
handling of the children from him would result in a scolding from her.
Dissatisfaction welled up inside him, prompting him to change the subject. “Benny gets hungry once
during the first half of the night. I’ll feed him with a bottle later. You can watch over him during the
second half of the night. This way, both the godfather and the biological father will be caring for him,
and he’ll be even more pampered and coddled.”
Charles, struggling to contain his amusement, chuckled and said, “Very well, I’ll rest for now. Just let
me know when it’s time to switch shifts.”
He settled onto the adjacent bed, covered himself with a thin blanket, and drifted off into slumber
effortlessly.
Cedrick stole a glance at Charles’ slumbering form before checking the time on his wristwatch.
It was nearly midnight. He wondered if Gwendolyn had already succumbed to sleep.
It had been an eternity since they had been apart like this since being married. Would she find it
unsettling?
His thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind. Not long after, he realized that he had unconsciously
braved through the first half of the night.
A day passed, and Channing confirmed that he would meet one of the suspected masterminds on
Cedrick’s list to discuss a collaboration.
In the evening, while Cedrick and Charles stood beside Benny’s hospital bed, they received an update.
The text read: There’s an update, boss. This person’s company has no ties to the milk powder industry,
and there are no illicit factories operating without proper licenses within the company. We’ve eliminated
our suspicion of him for now.
Cedrick’s gaze deepened as he put away his phone.
On the list he provided to Channing, there were four names, all of whom were suspected of involving in
nefarious activities. One had been ruled out.
Pondering over the situation, he placed his phone on the nightstand and carefully lifted Benedict,
heading to the fully-equipped nursery next door to prepare his baby formula.
Meanwhile, Charles remained in the infant ward, organizing Benny’s toys, diapers, and clothes.
Ring! Ring!
Cedrick’s phone on the nightstand rang, signaling an incoming call.
Charles glanced at it. It displayed an unknown number.
Thus, he paid little attention to it, continuing his tidying of Benedict’s belongings.
The persistent ringing, however, grew increasingly annoying. Finally, he walked over and picked up the
phone, intending to answer, only to find the call had been disconnected.
“What are you doing?”
Cedrick’s voice came from behind him near the door.
Charles turned around, holding the phone out to him. “Just a moment ago, an unknown number called
multiple times. Since they kept calling, I thought I’d pick up and take a message for you, but they hung
up.”
The coincidence of the situation struck him. Glancing at Cedrick’s serious expression and sensing his
disbelief, Charles added, “I didn’t pry or look at anything. I don’t know your phone’s password either.
During my time at the Central Intelligence Agency, I never learned how to crack passwords. You can
rest assured.”
Only then did Cedrick step forward and accept the phone while cradling the baby in his other arm.
Then, he dialed the number that had called him earlier.
The call connected swiftly on the other end.
After the short call, Cedrick’s expression shifted. “It’s Channing. It seems like the mastermind has taken
the bait.”
Their gaze met, and in the quiet room, their expressions grew even more serious.
Charles inquired, “Do you need to embark on a mission tonight?”
Cedrick nodded.
Charles took the initiative to approach, relieving Cedrick of his hold on Benedict. “I’ll take care of him.
You go and ensure Gwen’s safety.”
Cedrick nodded once again before turning to depart from the ward.
Night draped its veil upon the world, with the symphony of chirping birds and buzzing insects filling the
forest.
At this moment, lights flickered within Channing’s modest villa.
A mere half-hour ago, he had received an invitation for collaboration. The sender, aware of his
involvement in Gwendolyn’s kidnapping, wanted to extort a considerable sum from Cedrick. After two
days of observation, they reached out to Channing.
Having prepared well in advance, Channing eagerly awaited their arrival at the villa’s entrance.
Over an hour later, several figures emerged from the darkness, wielding flashlights.
As they approached the illuminated area near the villa’s entrance, Channing finally saw their faces.
The three men stood before him, tall and imposing. They were all clad in dark-colored suits and donned
sunglasses.
A hint of displeasure creased Channing’s brow. “Mr. Wendell invited me to collaborate with him, yet he
himself fails to appear. Instead, he sends three bodyguards to handle the situation. Isn’t that rather
perfunctory of him?”
The lead bodyguard replied, “This was not intentional. Mr. Wendell has pressing personal matters to
attend to. When we check the hostage later, I will arrange a video call with him, and you can
communicate directly.”
A derisive smile tugged at Channing’s lips.
He only dares to discuss collaboration over video calls. What a cowardly guy Wendell is! He’s like a
tortoise, always hiding in its shell.
However, to establish a modicum of trust with the other party, Channing refrained from voicing his
dissatisfaction.
“Gwendolyn is locked in the basement. However, Mr. Wendell’s sudden interest in collaboration tonight
necessitates caution. You shall not enter the basement or approach Gwendolyn. I will merely crack the
door open by a fraction for you to verify her condition.”
The bodyguard nodded, showing understanding. “Got it.”
“Well, what should I call you?” Channing inquired.
“I’m Quintrell Olsen,” the man responded.
With a gesture, Channing moved slightly to the side to allow the three bodyguards to enter.
As they walked through the garden, Channing narrowed his eyes, observing the sunglasses shielding
their faces. His voice held a tinge of curiosity as he remarked, “It’s so dark at night around here. Are
you certain you can see clearly through those sunglasses?”
Quintrell replied with confidence, “Rest assured, Mr. Kron. We’re accustomed to this. Our vision
remains clear even with sunglasses on.”
Channing pressed his lips together. “The stone path in the garden is quite bumpy. Be careful not to
stumble. If you get injured, you’d better not tell Mr. Wendell that I was the one who caused you harm.”
“Mr. Kron, you jest.”
No longer interested in exchanging pleasantries, Channing took the lead and walked ahead quickly,
allowing the undercover Federal Bureau of Investigation officer, who was masquerading as the
housekeeper of the villa, to guide the three bodyguards.
Soon, they arrived at the basement.
The heavy mahogany door creaked open slightly, revealing a narrow gap around the width of a fist.
Soft, dim yellow light spilled out, casting an obscure and somewhat hazy ambiance.
In the center of the basement was a chair. Gwendolyn was on it, bound and gagged. Her limbs were
restrained, and her head hung limply as if she was unconscious.
Quintrell, the lead bodyguard, checked Gwendolyn’s condition from several meters away, carefully
studying her.
The sunglasses masked any emotion that might have been revealed in his eyes.
“Her hair appears immaculate, and her attire is impeccable. There are no visible signs of injury on her
person. Do you always treat your kidnapped captives so well, Mr. Kron?” Quintrell remarked, taking a
step forward. He intended to enter the basement and get closer.
However, the undercover Federal Bureau of Investigation officer who was disguised as a bodyguard
blocked his path.
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