CHAPTER 149: CHAPTER 149- BULLSHIT

One Month.

Charles had been searching for her for an entire month—

"Well, well," Manfred said with a crooked smile. "What a rare sight. Both brothers here to interrogate me on the same day?"

Even Manfred didn’t know if they were still the same as before.

There was no beating that.

He recognized her handwriting.

And found nothing.

Why would she show him this? What did it mean?

A document.

But all he found was silence. Disappointment.

He personally retraced every step they had ever taken together.

That subtle distance didn’t erase the connection they once had, but it marked the change between them.

"Shut the hell up!" Charles roared. "You think I’m going to believe you? If you want Janet out of my life, you’ll have to kill me first!"

Again. And again.

August had been standing nearby, watching the scene unravel. He bent down and picked up the paper Charles had thrown.

He met Charles’s frenzied gaze and added, "She chose this. Be a man and let her go."

If anyone had the power to make a person disappear so thoroughly, it was Manfred.

A medical certificate proving Janet had an abortion.

He lunged forward again, fist clenched—but this time, August stepped between them just in time.

"I’m not against you loving Janet," August said slowly. "But I don’t want you to destroy what she has with Charles."

That level of arrogance and rage could only belong to one man.

He didn’t know if he was saying it to Manfred, to August, or just to himself.

After settling Janet in a remote, safe location, Manfred had finally returned to the city.

And judging by the way Charles’s face twisted with rage, they had landed.

This one woman—had reduced him to a sleepless, hollow wreck.

But this woman—

Trained as he was, even Manfred—with all his resilience and reflexes—couldn’t absorb a hit like that unscathed.

Charles had never lost control like this before.

"Where is she?"

No matter how much he worried about her, he still had responsibilities. He hadn’t said a word when he left the company, but now it was time to take the reins again.

Gone—just like that.

Without warning, he swung his fist and landed a brutal punch square on Manfred’s face.

His stormy eyes burned into Manfred’s, daring him to say something smug again.

Even her departure records yielded nothing. Not a single entry, not a blip on any system.

She... killed their child.

Now, he finally understood how Shaun had felt when he lost Angela—lost her and turned into a ghost.

He couldn’t spend another day drowning in this endless cycle of hope and heartbreak.

His voice was quiet, but steady. The dark depths of his eyes fixed on Manfred’s, holding nothing back.

"Cut the crap. Where is Janet?" Charles barked, his usual poise thrown out the window. He was never one to lose control.

Manfred’s collar was suddenly seized.

"August, this isn’t something you should be asking," Manfred replied wearily. He looked tired—exhausted, even—and unwilling to give up any information. He’d made a promise to Janet, and he intended to keep it.

It was as if she had vanished from the face of the earth.

He didn’t even need to look.

August stared at Manfred—still as dazzling, still as poisonous as ever—but no longer his to claim.

Charles wasn’t in the mood for small talk. His hawk-like eyes narrowed, cold and sharp. He stood tall, towering over the lounging Manfred. That smirk on his face only made him angrier.

She signed it herself.

That elegant, familiar script—

"Since when do we keep secrets from each other?" August’s voice was calm, but his eyes carried years of entanglement and history. They had once shared everything—grief, vengeance, even their own bodies. But now...

A termination report.

"She?" Manfred echoed lazily, his tone deliberately provocative as he turned and walked toward his desk, completely ignoring the dangerous storm he was stirring.

For the first time, Manfred understood what made him lose—

And watching Charles crumble piece by piece over the past month, August had wanted to do something—anything—to help.

"I’m sorry, August," Manfred said quietly. "I can’t tell you where she is. Please understand—I gave her my word."

His hands trembling.

His icy gaze locked onto Manfred like a blade.

And something—quietly, inevitably—had begun to shift.

They had lived in shadows for so long, bound by pain and a single purpose—revenge. But the storm had passed. The clouds were clearing. They had both started to return to their own lives.

A man so wild, so consuming in his love, that he would burn the world down for one woman.

Manfred’s expression grew complex. He opened his mouth to respond—but the door suddenly slammed open with a force that shook the room.

Charles stood frozen.

"This is bullshit! Where is she?!"

"I will find her."

His eyes ablaze with fury.

That woman was Charles’s everything.

Why?

Her signature.

Every crushed hope hollowed him out further, until it felt like there was nothing left of him but bones and regret.

Charles stormed in, dressed in black from head to toe, his tall frame tense with barely contained fury.

But Janet...

The second he read the words on it, his expression stiffened.

"Charles, stop! Hitting him won’t solve anything," August snapped. "He’s not telling us because Janet doesn’t want us to know. You know him—no matter what you do, if he doesn’t want to talk, he won’t."

His crimson eyes radiated pure bloodlust.

"Charles," Manfred’s voice came low and cold, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "Stop lying to yourself. Janet made her decision. Isn’t it obvious? She doesn’t love you anymore. Not even enough to keep the only bond that connected the two of you."

The image of that paper kept flashing in his mind.

His brain screamed in denial.

A healthy child.

August was the first to learn of his return—and he was already waiting in Manfred’s office when he arrived.

His breathing was ragged.

He had lost to a man like this.

By the time he reached the bottom, he had already crumpled the document into a ball—

Had she really...?

He had made peace with that.

"I’ll find her," he muttered, voice hoarse.

When Charles let go of Manfred and unfolded the paper in his hand, the sharp glint in his eyes only grew fiercer with every line he read.

Under Manfred’s protection, she had disappeared completely.

Charles was this close to punching him across the face.

The chaos churning in his chest—anger, fear, despair—was finally detonated the moment he realized what that document was:

He had delivered the real blow with those words—words that dug straight into Charles’s heart.

Giles’s voice hadn’t even faded when Charles burst out the door.

The dull ache in his chest from the punch didn’t matter.

"Where did you take Janet?" August rose slowly from the executive chair, his sharp eyes fixed on the man who had once been so close to him it felt like they breathed the same air.

He could no longer afford to wait.

Charles had put his entire company on hold. Even major events in Paris and Hawaii, he delegated or postponed just to shorten his search time.

f\reewebn ovel(.)com

Charles snatched it before thinking.

Every city. Every street.

Hoping—praying—that the next corner he turned, she would be standing there.

No trace. No clues.

Her handwriting. Her signature.

He held it out.

But Manfred simply dusted the wrinkles off his suit and, with infuriating calm, pulled something from his pocket.

"Boss, we’ve got something—Manfred’s back."

But Charles was done being passive. Done being patient.

He didn’t know what had happened between Janet and Charles, but if Manfred was involved, then it wasn’t simple. Nothing ever was with him.

But in that moment, it was the only thing keeping him standing.