“Explain yourself.”
Anthony’s voice was icy, sharp enough to cut glass. He walked out of the conference hall, jaw tight, every line of his handsome face shadowed with anger.
Even over the phone, Emily could feel the storm brewing. Her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the phone. “Anthony, I’ll send you a photo.” Her voice quivered.
She hung up and quickly sent him the picture of the man with his hand on Charlotte’s head.
A moment later, Anthony replied with just one word.
Address
No greeting, no punctuation, nothing but pure fury.
Emily sent the location and glanced at her assistant, guilt written all over her face. “Anthony’s going there in person. Do you think he’ll actually get into a fight?”
The assistant sucked in a breath and nodded, looking nervous. “It might get ugly.”
“Exactly.”
Emily yanked off her face mask, heart pounding, and rushed for the door. “Come on, we need to get to the KTV.”
“Emily, slow down.” The assistant scrambled after her, trying to catch up. “Let’s be real. Who in Cabinda would actually lay a finger on Anthony?”
Emily bit her lip and said nothing.
She knew that. No one would dare touch Anthony. But if Anthony decided to hit someone else, no one would stop him either. Especially not Kenneth. He wouldn’t stand a chance.
Meanwhile, in the CEO’s office, the air was thick with tension.
Anthony stood at the window, staring out at the city. He clutched his phone, listening to the endless “no answer” ringtone. His eyes grew darker with each passing second.
Hans cleared his throat, voice low. “Sir, Andrew isn’t picking up either.”
He didn’t dare look at Anthony’s face.


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