Upon hearing Charles Northwood’s question, Nia Mitchell’s brow furrowed even tighter.
"Fiona Sutton didn’t return to the dormitory last night. I just tried to call her, but her phone was off."
Upon saying this, Nia Mitchell started to worry.
"Could sothing have happened to her? Even though she always puts on a brave face, acting like a tomboy, she is still..."
She is, after all, just a young girl.
With all the lightning and thunder last night, where could she have gone if she didn’t return to the dormitory?
"I will make so calls."
Charles Northwood imdiately comforted Nia, pulled out his phone, and began to call so of his friends.
They all promised to keep an eye out for her.
Seeing Nia Mitchell so worried, Charles hesitated before deciding to share his thoughts with her.
"You can call Maxwell Peary, ask him to help."
There were rumors that Young Master Peary had clout in both legitimate and underworld circles; if he wanted to find soone, it should only take a matter of minutes.
Nia Mitchell was taken aback, doubting that Maxwell Peary could be of any help.
He’s just a businessman, a wealthy one at that. Finding people is a job for the police.
However, upon thinking of the police, she suddenly rembered Yancy Hastings. Isn’t he a military man?
And a while ago, Fiona was even targeted by his revenge. This Yancy Hastings seems pretty formidable.
If Maxwell Peary knows soone as formidable as Yancy Hastings, he must know people who are even more so.
The mont the thought struck her, she imdiately reached for her phone and dialed Maxwell Peary’s number.
"Have you resolved the matter?"
Just as Maxwell Peary arrived at MC Group, he set down his briefcase and his phone rang.
I really didn’t expect Nia Mitchell to be so efficient.
"Not yet."
As soon as she heard Maxwell Peary’s voice, a rush of emotions overwheld her, and she felt thoroughly dejected and miserable.
"Huh? What happened?"
Realizing Nia Mitchell’s low mood, Maxwell Peary beca concerned, wondering if she had suffered so wrong at Fiona’s hands.
"Fiona is not at school; she didn’t return all night yesterday. I called her, but her phone was off."
Her voice was thick with worry.
"Don’t worry, I will check for you."
Straight after hanging up with Nia Mitchell, Maxwell Peary dialed Yancy Hastings’ number.
In a Presidential Suite of a large hotel in Capital Town, rain lightly tapped against window panes hidden behind drapes, keeping out the dull outside light.
The curtain swayed slightly. Beside the opulent gold bed, a phone on the bedside table buzzed non-stop. BZZZ. BZZZ.
Frowning in displeasure, Yancy Hastings extended a bare arm, felt for his phone, and answered it directly without even looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
His lazy, low voice reached Maxwell Peary’s ears, causing Peary to question himself, glancing at the ti.
"It’s nine-thirty now, in the morning."
Good heavens! That particular special forces soldier, who always gets up at four or five in the morning to train, is actually still lazing in bed at nine-thirty!
Judging by his voice, he’s clearly still half asleep.
Yancy Hastings heaved a deep sigh. He was sowhat disoriented and hadn’t initially recognized who was calling.
After a glance at the caller ID, his brow relaxed a little.
"What’s up?"
As far as Yancy Hastings was concerned, Maxwell Peary never called unless he needed sothing. A call today definitely ant another task.
This interruption had woken Yancy up quite a bit.
"Your wife hasn’t caused any trouble again, has she?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers