Chapter 186
Fordham Group.
Chester had just wrapped up a marathon three–hour international conference. As soon as his assistant handed back his phone, he was startled to see an unusual number of missed calls from Celestine.
A knot formed in his stomach. The last time Celestine had called him so many times in a row, she’d ended up in the hospital.
A shadow flickered across his face. He immediately dialed her back, but no one picked up.
A creeping sense of unease began to spread inside him.
“Find out what time Celestine’s flight is today,” Chester ordered.
His secretary quickly pulled up the information. “Mr. Fordham, Mrs. Fordham’s flight back to Oceanview City is at 1 p.m. She should be landing around 3:30.”
Chester glanced at the clock. At this hour, she was probably still in the air.
Thinking fast, he sent her a message. He’d barely finished typing when a call from an unfamiliar Portside City number flashed on his screen.
He answered without hesitation.
“Mr. Fordham, your wife Celestine is in our hands! Get fifty million dollars in cash ready. Meet us at Oceana Park, South Section, at five o’clock sharp. If you’re late, you can forget about seeing her again!”
The voice was male, distorted by a voice modulator.
Chester’s expression hardened. “How do I know you actually have my wite?”
A twisted chuckle sounded on the other end. “Check your messages. We’ve just sent you a photo. Whether you show up or not, that’s your call.”
“Oh, and Mr. Fordham, everyone knows you run things around here. But if you call the police or try anything clever, I promise–your wife won’t live to see the morning.” A multimedia message popped up. Chester opened it–his blood ran cold. The image showed Celestine in a dark, damp room, bruised and battered, a streak of blood matting her hair, She looked like she’d just been dragged out of a pool of her own blood.
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Chester’s gaze grew murderous. He slammed his fist on the desk. “If you so much as touch her again, I swear on the Fordham name–I’ll make sure none of you leave Portside City alive, even if it costs me everything.”
In his own city, under his own nose, someone had dared to lay a hand on his family?
“Tsk, tsk. Didn’t expect you to care so much for your wife, Mr. Fordham. All the more reason to hurry up with the ransom. I can hardly wait to meet you.”
The line went dead.
Chester stared at the bloody photo, his mind racing, hands shaking.
After a long silence, his secretary spoke up, tentative. “Sir, the records show Mrs. Fordham boarded her flight as scheduled. Could this be a setup–someone trying to lure you in? With something this major, our people should have caught wind of
it.”
Chester closed his eyes. “I can’t risk betting on that one–in–a–million chance. Get the money ready. I’ll go myself.”
It wasn’t sentiment that moved him–it was responsibility. Celestine was the mother
of his two children, and she was still a Fordham. If someone could humiliate their
family like this in Portside City, it would be a slap in the face to everything they
stood for.
Especially since Celestine was carrying his child.
Chester’s fists clenched tighter. He’d already lost one child–he wouldn’t let it
happen again.
f the
Fifty million dollars in cash was quickly assembled, but the sheer sca withdrawal drew attention from the family’s estate. News of Celestine’s abduction spread like wildfire.
Alistair was livid. “Unbelievable! In Portside City, they dare kidnap a Fordham? Chester, if you don’t bring your wife back, don’t bother coming home!”
“Yes, Grandfather. I’ll bring her back alive,” Chester answered.
He left Alistair’s study, picked up the briefcase stuffed with cash, and walked out of the Fordham house alone.
He didn’t notice the pale, stunned face of Celia behind him.
How could this have happened? She’d only hired a few thugs to teach her mother a lesson–maybe slap her around a bit, nothing more. How had it turned into a
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Chapter 180
kidnapping, with a fifty–million–dollar ransom?
Those damn crooks hadn’t kept their promise at all!
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