Peter couldn't help but worry.

"Will Cathy..."

"She wouldn't dare."

Mark's actions had nearly pushed Cathy to the breaking point. As long as she wasn't utterly reckless, she wouldn't dare utter a word.

Peter nodded, waiting in quiet vigilance.

At nine o'clock in the evening, the phone rang again. It was the same voice.

"Mr. Evans, your former flame, Cathy Wilson, is in our custody... Huh, you seem to be quite fortunate in love.

The women around you are all remarkably beautiful."

Mark responded with a composed tone, "Don't harm her.”

The man chuckled and brushed against Cathy, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he remarked, "If you wish to spare your first love from harm, you'll have to pay a price.

Otherwise, who knows if she'll meet the same fate as Paul's wife.”

In a low voice, Mark inquired, "Where are you? How do we proceed with the exchange?”

After concluding the call, the man crudely fondled Cathy multiple times.

Casting a disdainful gaze at Cecilia, he jeered, "It seems that Mark favors this woman more.”

Cecilia stood stunned.

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't shake off the feeling that Mark had actually come here... for her.

Late at night, Mark arrived.

The driver parked the car outside, while the bodyguards and Peter remained in place. With the chip in hand, Mark entered the warehouse. The atmosphere choked him, the air thick with dust.

Mark scanned his surroundings.

His Cecilia was bound to a chair, tears welling in her eyes. She looked at him with unwavering trust.

Oh, naive girl.

Even at this moment, she still believed in him.