The Billionaire Ex-Wife and the Beggar He Became novel Chapter 247

Yves Prescott froze. "You found her? Where is she? Is Winona alright?"

His voice trembled as he spoke. He'd ordered every man he had to search for Winona, demanding she be found at all costs. Yet after a sleepless night and half a day, anxiety gnawed at him—what if those people had destroyed her?

No sooner had he spoken than Julian strode over and pressed close, all but snatching the phone from his hand. "Tell us—where is she? Is she alive? Did they hurt her?"

Julian's tone was even more frantic than Yves's.

Yves was right. The ones who'd taken Winona could only be people from Felicity's circle. Mackenzie, Hattie—even Felicity's own parents—every last one of them had once sworn they'd see Winona torn apart and ground to dust.

Of course, all along they'd believed Julian had given silent consent. They only dared to torment Winona so brazenly because they thought Julian would look the other way.

Right now, Julian's panic eclipsed Yves's. If Winona really had been destroyed by those people, Julian knew he'd never forgive himself—not in a hundred lifetimes.

On the other end, Yves's man replied, "Miss Perkins is safe, sir."

At those words, both men exhaled in relief.

Meanwhile, across the room, Zane, Helga, and Mia broke into laughter and tears by turns.

"My mom's really alright? You found her?"

"My granddaughter—where is she? Take me to her, now—oh, thank goodness…"

"Nona's safe? She's really safe?" Mia, half-laughing, half-crying, seized Claud with one hand and Xander with the other in her excitement. "You two, I can finally get some sleep—no, wait, how about this: you take turns staying up with me on odd and even days, deal?"

Claud and Xander were so embarrassed, they wished they could sink into the floor. If this were centuries ago, they'd swear they'd been mistaken for the top courtesan and her second-in-command.

"Where's the address?" Yves asked bluntly.

Everyone leaned in, desperate for the answer.

"She's on a nondescript cargo ship, docked at Harborview Port," came the reply.

And he was powerless to stop any of it.

He didn't even have the right to hold his own son.

"Stay put," Yves told her. "I'm coming for you—with your son, Helga, and Mia. We'll all be there soon."

"…Alright." Winona's voice was weary. The relief and exhaustion washed over her all at once.

She ended the call, glancing over at Frank, who lay on his back a short distance away. He managed a weak smile. "Miss Perkins, you're free now. My plan failed. But still—I owe you my life. Thank you."

Winona's expression was calm. "Don't thank me. If I didn't think you had at least some conscience, I wouldn't have saved you. I'd have let you die right here on this ship. Count yourself lucky—just don't cross me again. If you do, I'll finish you myself."

Thinking back on what had happened, Winona's heart was full of mixed emotions.

Just yesterday afternoon, a group of burly foreign thugs had dragged her in front of Frank. He'd tried coaxing her, threatening her, but she'd refused to give in—she'd rather die than surrender.