President’s Sweet Wife novel Chapter 883

Felix, however, was undaunted.

He had his men undertake a painstaking investigation, while he himself launched a secret inquiry into Queeny’s whereabouts through other channels.

Felix, though anxious, was more or less reassured by the fact that Queeny had been missing instead of murdered on the spot.

He knew that there were now two parties after Queeny. Now that they had snatched her away rather than killing her then and there when they had the chance, Queeny’s life should be temporarily secure.

In spite of that, an air of depression hung over the castle.

The wrath of Felix was palpable to everyone.

The bodyguards escorting Queeny and Ella on this trip were tortured by remorse.

They knew that their negligence was to blame for Queeny’s disappearance.

They had already had their share of punishment.

Among them, Dean was the most anguished.

He didn’t expect that his lapse of attention should lead to such an accident.

Recalling the pretty face of Ella and the trust of Queeny, Dean could have killed himself if they had ever suffered any tribulations.

The meticulous search continued.

On the other side, Queeny woke to the night.

Engulfed in sheer darkness, Queeny found her hands and feet tied up, her mouth bunged up with rags and even her eyes blindfolded.

On waking up she made a subconscious struggle, but immediately stopped when she realized the situation she was in.

She was filled with alarm.

What was this place?

Where was she?

Queeny felt a faint headache with sharp pain at the nape, which reminded her of the attack when she was waiting for Ella at the entrance of the washroom.

Shit!

Even though she was still recovering from her injury, her agility was so exceptional that it would be very unlikely for a sneak attacker from behind to overpower her with one single stroke.

She had confidence in her alertness and the instincts she had gained from years of wandering on the brink of death.

But this time she met her Waterloo.

Lying on the floor, she recollected all the details before she was knocked out. It struck her that she had been physically unwell at that time.

The dizziness had retarded her reaction.

Damn it! She shouldn’t have drunk the wine.

Normally she was immune to a few glasses of wine, but not if it had been spiked.

But it was highly improbable.

When she was in the Rosefinch Branch, she had drilled her body to cultivate the immunity against various drugs for the sake of self-protection.

For some drugs against which it was impossible to gain immunity through physical drills, corresponding vaccines had been employed. Therefore, the attempts to drug her would normally fail.

With all these precautions, how on earth could she be knocked out?

Queeny was puzzled.

Unable to figure it out, she quit the rumination.

She made a struggle and found that the ropes tying her hands and feet were very tightly knotted, not in the usual way, but in a secure way exclusive to gangdom.

The captive might as well not struggle, otherwise the knot would become tighter and the ropes would sink into his flesh and cause more suffering.

Queeny took a few deep breaths.