Chapter 432: Get Caught

As soon as Hannah and Oscar returned home, he was consumed by desire. Right in the living room, he pounced on her. Speechless, Hannah, sleepy and uninterested in sex, nudged him. "Hey, Max is here."

"Don't worry. He knows to stay away."

"But what if he sees us...?"

"He already saw us last night."

What a shameless guy, she thought. Seeing her displeasure, he stopped kissing her, lifted her into his arms, and rushed to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed, mounted her, and leaned down to kiss her. Hannah covered her mouth with both hands. Oscar stared at her, confused.

"You'll choke yourself if you don't breathe," Hannah said.

He looked exhausted, yet showed no intention of resting. "You're choking me to death if you stop. Besides, my breathing has nothing to do with carrying you to the bedroom." He smothered her with kisses before she could respond, perhaps driven by a desire to procreate.

Meanwhile, Theodore arrived home utterly drunk. As the chauffeur prepared to help him inside, he awoke, sitting bolt upright in the back seat, startling the chauffeur.

"Where am I?" Theodore asked.

"Mr. Wold, you're home. Let me help you inside."

"I don't want to go home! Get me out of here!" Theodore shouted.

Startled again, the chauffeur was bewildered.

"Hurry!" Theodore demanded, a bad feeling creeping into his mind.

The chauffeur quickly started the car, unsure of their destination. After driving a considerable distance, the chauffeur trembled, asking, "Mr. Wold, where are we going?"

"Shut up. I'm looking for a place to go," Theodore replied impatiently.

The chauffeur remained silent, fearing his anger. Theodore scrolled through his contacts, most faces unfamiliar. He spotted a familiar name—Linda—and called.

"Oh, Mr. Wold, you finally called! I've been waiting for months," a sweet voice answered.

Theodore felt intoxicated.

"Where are you? I'm coming."

"Right now?" she asked, surprised.

"What? Something else to do?"

"Of course not, you're always welcome. It's just...so late. Are you kidding me? I'll be mad if you're fooling me," she said coquettishly.

Theodore felt himself losing control.

"Send me your location. I'm on my way."

"Okay. I'll take a bath and wait for you."

"Okay." Theodore hung up, anticipating a final night of revelry. Tomorrow was his wedding, after which his father would keep a close watch. Tonight was his last chance.

Laird had surprisingly agreed to let him enjoy his last night of freedom, a concession that left Theodore astonished. His father's unexpected reasonableness thrilled him. Having his father's permission, he intended to make the most of it.

After receiving Linda's location, he told the chauffeur, "Come on, speed up!" He wouldn't waste a second. The chauffeur obeyed, bewildered by Theodore's sudden transformation from unconscious stupor to energized readiness.

They soon arrived. Theodore strode into the building, heading for the elevator. As the elevator doors opened, he saw two men in black suits watching him. A bad feeling washed over him, but he maintained his composure as he walked past them.

"Young master. Mr. Wold asked us to bring you home."

"Fuck me! How did you know I was here?" Theodore snarled.

They bowed respectfully. "We're here by his order. But we don't know how he found you."

Theodore was furious. Laird was far more capable than he'd imagined. He'd been careful to avoid family surveillance, yet he'd been caught, and they'd arrived before him. What an omnipotent man!

"Young master, please come home with us," they said respectfully.

"What if I refuse?" Theodore challenged, seething with rage.

"Mr. Wold said he'll do it himself if you refuse."

Damn it! His last night of freedom was over. Defeated, he followed them.

Sitting in the car, despondent, his phone rang—Linda.

He answered, his voice upset. "Linda,"

"Theodore, haven't you arrived yet? I'm so lonely."

"Something urgent came up," he said impatiently. Her attempts to seduce him only fueled his anger.

"How could you do this to me? You said you were coming!" she cried.

"Stop crying! I'll wire you a million tomorrow!" Theodore snapped.

"But I miss you…"

"Eight hundred thousand."

"Theodore…"

"Six hundred thousand."

"Thank you, Theodore. Good night," Linda said quickly, realizing she'd pushed her luck.

Theodore hung up, looking up at the gates of the Wold estate. His attempt at a final fling had ended in failure. He entered the house and went to his room. A dim lamp lit the room. On his bed lay a woman.

Fuck! He was enraged.