Chapter 200

If the kidnappers wanted to use a hostage as leverage, Ophelia was definitely a more suitable choice than Elva. Why would they need to kidnap Elva? Thinking of the inexplicably leaked medical records, Winford’s gaze suddenly turned cold.

Graham felt a chill in his heart, as he realized that if Elva’s role was unusual, then this so-called “negotiation” was likely a trap specifically designed for Mr. Winford from the very beginning! He suddenly felt a bit scared. “Mr. Winford…”

Winford’s gaze darkened as he looked at the person in his arms. Last night, he was supposed to go, but Ophelia suddenly had a headache and held him back. Now, the person who had just been mumbling and groaning was, at this moment, full of spirit, with bright eyes that moved lively; there was not a trace of weakness to be seen.

Ophelia looked up and unexpectedly met the man’s probing gaze. She felt a tightness in her heart and said, “Husband…?”

“Does it not hurt anymore?” Winford asked her.

Ophelia’s delicate face stiffened slightly, and she instantly buried her head in his embrace, saying somewhat sheepishly, “With my husband by my side, it didn’t hurt as much.”

The man’s large hand gently stroked the back of her head. “This time, I really had to thank Lia; otherwise, I might have fallen into someone else’s trap.” He seemed to have no doubt in his tone.

Ophelia said nervously, “No, it was just a coincidence; it was just my husband’s good luck…”

“Is that so?” Looking at the person in his arms who didn’t even dare to lift their face, Winford smiled slightly, a hint of something unusual flashing in his eyes, and he didn’t continue the topic.

“Mr. Winford, what about this…?” Graham gestured to the box in his hand and the distress letter. Winford lifted the curtain.

Suburb. In an abandoned villa. Elva was covered in blood, curled up on the ground, looking as messy as a pile of garbage. She looked as pale as paper, one hand resting in a pool of blood, twitching from time to time. Upon closer inspection, one would notice that the little finger on that hand was missing!

“Hasn’t the person arrived yet?” On the gray sofa, surrounded by others, several big men were sitting. One of them, with a full beard, fiercely stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette in his hand, stood up, and asked harshly.

A subordinate answered, “Not yet…”

The bearded man’s eyes flashed with a cold light as he stepped forward and kicked Elva hard. “You little girl, you didn’t lie to us? You really are Mr. Winford’s little lover?”

Elva let out a cry and said, “No, I didn’t lie!”

“Hmph, you better not be lying. Otherwise, if Mr. Winford doesn’t come, you would only be able to die here!”

Elva widened her eyes in terror and said, “No, no, Mr. Winford would come. He really loved me; he wouldn’t just abandon me!”

“Big brother, why do I feel that this little girl is trying to deceive us?” one subordinate said suspiciously. “If she really was Mr. Winford’s mistress, would she actively hand over Mr. Winford’s secrets to us and collude with us to scheme against him?”

The bearded man squinted his eyes, and his cold gaze fell on Elva once again.

“I didn’t lie to you! I was just having a tantrum with Mr. Winford and wanted to play a joke on him. I didn’t mean to set him up…” Elva broke down and said in panic, her mind almost blank. She really just wanted to create a group of fake kidnappers to stage a “life-saving favor,” making Mr. Winford grateful to her and letting him know that she was willing to risk her life to save him. Ophelia was nothing compared to her!

But she didn’t expect that the kidnapper, who had agreed to cooperate, would turn against her and reveal his true colors after getting the medical records… Thinking about what would happen to her if Mr. Winford did not save her, or if Mr. Winford knew the truth, Elva trembled with fear.

The bearded man looked at her and said, “Someone as foolish as this, capable of doing such a stupid thing, should just wait a little longer!”

“Half an hour later. Mr. Winford did not show up, and it was too late to kill her!”

The hospital. “Then let them tear up the ticket.” Winford cast a cold glance at the severed finger, his eyes devoid of any warmth, and said in a calm and indifferent manner.

Outside the ward door. Alfred, who had overheard everything, turned pale. He stopped his steps that were about to enter, turned around, and hurried away.