Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 418

The security guard stepped forward, his face cautious. “What’s going on here?”

“Police investigation. Here’s the search warrant,” one of the officers replied, flashing the document.

The guard barely glanced at the paperwork before unlocking the main gate. But when it came to the front door, they hit a snag—the security code.

“I don’t have the code, either,” the guard admitted, shrugging helplessly.

James jabbed the doorbell again and again. No one answered.

“Break the window!” he barked, his impatience boiling over. “I’ll take responsibility for whatever happens.”

There really wasn’t any other choice.

Glass shattered. The police swept into Southcreek Manor. They scoured every room, every corner. There wasn’t a single sign of Briony—or anyone else.

“How is this possible?” James stared at the empty mansion, anxiety clawing at his chest. He felt completely lost.

The police eventually withdrew, finding nothing.

James slumped on the front steps, burying his head in his hands. He’d tried calling Briony all night, but her phone never connected.

Sensing something was seriously wrong, he’d called Crystal.

Crystal had told him Briony was away on a last-minute business trip, but said they’d been exchanging messages. Still, James knew Briony. Her daughter, Little Nina, meant everything to her. Even when traveling for work, she always made time for a daily call or video chat. Two days without a single call? Completely out of character.

His gut told him Briony was in trouble.

He’d caught the earliest flight back to Northborough. The moment he landed, he went straight to the police and asked them to track Briony’s whereabouts.

They found nothing.

Briony had vanished.

James’ first suspicion fell on Stewart. He’d searched Stewart’s law firm and The Wentworth Group but came up empty.

There was no doubt in his mind—Stewart had taken Briony.

He’d all but dragged the police to Southcreek Manor. It was the only place in Northborough he could think of. But even here, there wasn’t a single clue.

Frustrated, James ran his hands through his hair. Where could Stewart have taken her?

Mr. Seven’s tone grew serious. “Don’t mention it. You and Ms. Kensington are both people I respect. She’s my business partner; I wouldn’t just stand by while she’s in trouble.”

Hanging up, James finally felt a sliver of hope.

After thanking Mr. Seven again, he turned to Cedric, who’d been listening in.

“That was Mr. Seven?” Cedric asked, eyebrows raised. “The one who made a name for himself in the business world these past few years?”

James nodded. “That’s him.”

“How do you know someone like that?”

James shrugged. “Long story. Let’s just say it all started because Briony sold a painting. But that’s not important right now—what matters is that Mr. Seven’s willing to help.”

Cedric’s expression darkened. “Word is, Mr. Seven got his start in the Astara underground market. Not exactly a clean background. You should be careful dealing with him—”

“Dr. Clarke,” James cut him off, his tone steely, “right now, Stewart is the only real danger to Briony.”

Cedric fell silent. There was nothing more to say.