The next morning, Quentin—who rarely indulged in sleeping in—found himself reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed, holding Amanda tightly in his arms. The cozy atmosphere was perfect until it was abruptly shattered by the insistent, loud ringing of a cell phone.
Amanda groaned in discomfort, trying to break free from his embrace. Quentin's eyes remained closed, but his hand accurately caught her and pulled her back, ignoring the noise. However, the caller was persistent, ringing several times without pause. Feeling Amanda's growing frustration against his chest, Quentin finally gave in and answered.
"Hello."
"Damn it, is that phone just an ornament? It took you long enough!" Derrick's impatient voice crackled through the receiver.
Quentin moved the phone away from his ear. "It's early, Derrick. What is so urgent?"
Derrick snorted. "What's the matter? The man you wanted me to find? He's been found."
Quentin's sleepiness vanished instantly. "It's been over two weeks. Don't tell me you found a body."
"He's alive," Derrick replied, his voice slipping back into its usual lazy drawl. "Not only is he alive, but he looks like he's gained a few pounds since he went missing."
Quentin grew thoughtful. He had assumed Javier had already eliminated Clark to cover his tracks. "Where did you find him?"
"Hiding out in a landfill on the West side."
By now, Amanda had opened her eyes, looking strangely alert. Quentin leaned down to kiss her forehead before speaking into the phone again. "I understand. Hand him over to the police."
Derrick scoffed in disagreement. "The police? Why drag your other nephew into this through official channels? Wouldn't it be more satisfying to handle it yourself?"
Amanda sat up and headed for the bathroom as Quentin replied, "I don't want any more blood on my hands than necessary. But make no mistake—I will not ignore what Javier has done."
"Fine, have it your way, you pseudo-gentleman!" Derrick barked before hanging up.
Quentin quickly packed their things for the drive back to the city. He was unaware, however, that before they left the motel, Amanda had sent a surreptitious message to Vance: "How is the other person's sister?"
Vance's response was immediate: "She was quietly transferred to a private hospital. The treatment is progressing favorably."
Amanda stared at the screen. If Clark had survived Javier's reach for half a month, someone must have been protecting him from the shadows. Does this mean he's agreed to cooperate? she wondered. Or is he simply repaying the debt for his sister's medical fees?
Seeing Amanda looking distant, Quentin pulled her close as they drove, misinterpreting her silence for worry. "I'll take you to the hospital to visit Dad in a little while, okay?"
Amanda blinked at him. "Aren't we going to see Clark?"
Quentin leaned over, rubbing his nose against hers affectionately. "Leave that to me. You just focus on visiting Dad."
When Amanda pouted, clearly unhappy about being left out, he kissed her deeply to coax her. "Be good. I told you, I don't want you involved in these dirty affairs."
Amanda could only sigh and nod, touched by his protectiveness even as her own secret plans moved forward.
Quentin dropped Amanda at the hospital before heading to the police station. Clark was exactly as Derrick described: despite two weeks on the run, he looked surprisingly well-fed. However, he remained a wall of silence. No matter what tactics the investigators used, he wouldn't utter a single word.
Quentin watched through the glass, his brow furrowed. Suddenly, his phone buzzed. It was Secretary James.
"Boss, the fish are at the bait. It looks like we'll have them by tomorrow."
Quentin's expression finally relaxed into a cold, triumphant smile. "I understand. Prepare the nets. Tomorrow, we finish this."
When Quentin arrived at the hospital room later that afternoon, he was greeted by the sound of boisterous laughter. Stepping inside, he found Amanda's parents chatting animatedly with his father.
"Dad, Mom? How long have you two been here?"
Mrs. Solis turned to him with a bright smile. "We were just discussing the wedding with Mr. Harris!"
The elder Mr. Harris beamed. "Yes, Quentin. Your mother-in-law is incredibly thoughtful; she has everything organized perfectly."
Mrs. Solis waved a thick stack of photos in the air. Quentin then remembered that a month ago, he had asked her to take the lead on the wedding arrangements.
"Quentin, save me!"
Amanda's desperate cry caught his attention. He looked over to see her buried under a mountain of reference photos at the tea table. She looked at him with mock tears in her eyes, trying to push away a catalog that Mr. Solis was hovering over her.
"What's wrong?" Quentin asked, amused, as he sat beside her.
"It's too much!" Amanda complained, pouting. "Wedding dress models, hall decorations, bedroom themes... I'm dizzy. Can't we just skip the ceremony and go straight to the honeymoon?"
Quentin chuckled, sensing her genuine overwhelm. He reached for the photos in her hand. "If you're tired, let me choose for you."
Mrs. Solis clicked her tongue at her daughter's behavior. "Look at this girl! I've done all the heavy lifting from A to Z, and she can't even be bothered to point a finger at the one she likes? You're spoiled!"
Amanda leaned into Quentin like she had no bones, arguing back playfully. "Mom! You gave me a book with over a hundred dress designs! How am I supposed to choose?"
"You're the one getting married, not me, you rotten brat!" Mrs. Solis rolled up her sleeves, grabbing a stack of papers.
When she moved to playfully swat Amanda, Amanda jumped up, eyes wide. "Mom! Why are you getting violent? Is it a crime to be pampered by my husband?"
"I'll show you pampered!" Mrs. Solis began chasing Amanda around the hospital room.
"Quentin! Dad! Save my life!" Amanda squealed.
"Let's see who dares to save you!" her mother shouted back.
Quentin, meanwhile, ignored the chaos and focused on a design, showing it to Mr. Solis. "What do you think of these three models?"
Mr. Solis nodded approvingly. "Good taste. I was looking at that one myself."
Exhausted and with her hair becoming a messy nest, Amanda realized her husband and father were useless. She turned to the last person in the room. "Grandpa—I mean, Dad! Save me!"
Mr. Harris watched the rowdy scene with a glint of joy in his eyes, but he simply closed them and leaned back. "Ah, this old man is getting a bit tired. You youngsters carry on."
In the end, Mrs. Solis pinned Amanda to the sofa, tickling her until she was breathless. "Haha! Mom, stop! I surrender! I'll be good!"
"Hmph. Then sit down and help Quentin."
The three men in the room burst into laughter simultaneously. The room was so full of warmth and life that Dylan and Tiffany, who had just arrived at the door, felt like intruders. They stood in the hallway, embarrassed and unable to find the courage to enter.