Chapter 1753: Why Are You Still Here?

Upon witnessing Hector's outburst, Kevin remained silent, fearing further provocation.

Meanwhile, Jack arrived hurriedly at a secluded pier on the city's outskirts, carrying only a small silver suitcase. Having regained consciousness from his coma the previous night, he fully understood the gravity of his situation. Even if released by the police, Lucian would undoubtedly pursue him; escape was essential. He had spent the night formulating an escape plan and making the necessary arrangements. He'd already implemented a contingency plan, transferring some assets overseas. As long as he escaped, he could still live a luxurious life abroad, perhaps even making a comeback and exacting revenge on those who had wronged him—Lucian and Roxanne, who had destroyed the Damaris Group, his life's work. He would show them no mercy.

Remembering last night's events, his expression hardened. He waited, anxiety mounting as the ferry failed to arrive. Had Lucian discovered his whereabouts? Panicked, he almost reached for his phone to urge them onward, but the risk of revealing his location stayed his hand. He gritted his teeth and abandoned the idea.

"Damn it!" he muttered. "Where are those people?"

As he turned to leave, a horn blared behind him. Relief washed over him as he saw the ferry approaching.

"I apologize for the delay, Mr. Damaris," the captain said respectfully. "We encountered rough weather."

"When do we leave?" Jack demanded.

"Immediately, sir!" the captain replied, helping Jack aboard.

Jack coldly snorted and stepped onto the ferry, the captain following, secretly relieved. Thank God I arrived on time. he thought. Otherwise, I wouldn't know how to explain to that man...

"Rest here. My men will prepare the ferry," the captain said, leading Jack into a lounge before departing.

Jack, assuming departure was imminent, casually opened his suitcase, checking his documents and cash. Yet, the ferry remained stationary. His anxiety returned, prompting him to investigate. He opened the lounge door to find the captain.

"What's going on? Why aren't we leaving?" Jack asked impatiently.

The captain, wiping his brow, apologized. "I'm sorry, Mr. Damaris. The rough weather caused minor damage requiring repairs. Please be patient; we'll depart as soon as possible."

Jack felt a prickle of suspicion. The delay, followed by the supposed damage—were these merely coincidences?