Chapter 378

Moonlight seeped through the blinds, casting pale streaks across the office floor.

Luis toyed absently with the pen in his hand, his eyes fixed on the paperwork in front of him, every line scrutinized with cold precision.

The sudden buzz of his phone shattered the quiet.

He lifted his gaze to the screen, saw the caller's name,and swiped to answer.

Neville's voice came through in a hushed tone. "Mr.Sampson,I tracked down the doctor and driver tied to Howe's operation. The driver's name is Reginald Todd;he's hauling freight on the west side now. The doctor,Bohumil Navarro, delivered Laura. He left Plentlight Hospital years ago and now runs a small private clinic."

For a moment, Luis didn't speak, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the desk.

When he finally did, his voice dropped like ice. "Good.Follow standard procedure. Move them to the suburban warehouse. I'll handle the questioning myself. No one else is to know." "Yes, sir," Neville replied, before cutting the line.

Within the hour, Neville gathered two bodyguards and headed out.

At the freight station, they lay in wait. Three long hours passed before Reginald appeared, unloading cargo. The men grabbed him fast, pinning him on both sides, and shoved him into the back of a van.

Bohumil proved no harder. Neville booked an appointment under a false name, and the moment the consultation room door clicked shut, cold steel pressed against the doctor's back, ushering him out without a sound.

By nightfall, the warehouse was alive with shadows.

A dim bulb dangled from above, its weak light swaying across the grim interior.

Bohumil was lashed to an iron chair, sweat dripping down his temples as his wide eyes stayed glued to the entrance.

Reginald sat slumped on the floor, mud smeared across his clothes, his fingers nervously tracing the cracks in the cement floor.

Once both were restrained, Neville dialed Luis again with the update. Luis gave only one order-to guard them closely,before grabbing his coat and striding out of his office.

The rumble of his black vehicle soon broke the silence of the outskirts. Gravel crunched beneath the tires, and the headlights cut jagged beams through the warehouse gloom.

Reginald shrank into the corner, one arm lifted against the blinding glare. Panic slipped through his trembling fingers.

Bohumil turned his face aside, eyes flickering with dread.

The car door creaked open, and Luis emerged. His polished shoes splashed into shallow puddles,each measured step echoing in the captives' chests like thunder.

As he walked through the wash of headlights, the hem of his trench coat swept in the wind, his face concealed in darkness.

Only the glint of a silver tie clip broke through,catching the light as it swayed with his movements.

Reginald's throat bobbed as he forced a swallow, his voice cracking. "Y-You... you're..."

Luis closed the distance before Reginald could choke out another word.

The single bulb overhead carved deep shadows across his features, and the icy weight of his stare pinned Reginald in place. Having spent years working for Howe,Reginald knew at once who stood before him.

Reginald remembered the sting at the back of his neck, sharp and fast,hitting him just after he set down the final box at the freight station. Then everything faded into darkness. When he came to, he was lying in this warehouse, disoriented and cold. At first, he figured he must've crossed someone during a delivery,maybe ticked off the wrong client. If that were all it was, he could have shrugged it off and moved on. But what shook him to his core was discovering who had ordered the abduction. It was Luis. That truth landed like a punch to the gut.

Ever since that incident years back, Reginald had stayed hidden behind a false name, just as Sherwood told him to. He kept his head down, stayed out of sight, and made sure the Sampson family never caught wind of him. But now, Luis had tracked him down. It was clear things weren't nearly as simple as he had once believed.

Across the room, Bohumil sat bound to the iron chair,ignorant of the truth.

He hadn't realized the man cowering nearby had been Howe's driver, nor had he recognized the figure in the shadows as the brother of the baby girl he had placed beside Laura two decades ago. He only knew he had once followed Howe's orders, and the guilt of it lingered.

Luis advanced with deliberate steps, and Neville moved quickly to meet him, spine rigid as he presented a file bound in brown paper. "Mr. Sampson,I've gathered their records."

The cover bore two names, circled in red: Reginald Todd and Bohumil Navarro.

Luis flipped it open. Yellowed photographs slipped out,followed by worn statements.

The first image showed a man in a baseball cap putting a black suitcase into a van. The license plate matched the vehicle Howe had used in those years past.

There was no longer any doubt,Reginald had been the one behind the wheel, helping Howe pull off the job.

Next came Bohumil's résumé, the word "health reasons" scrawled as the cause of his resignation from the hospital.

The weak excuse fell apart against the truth that he now practiced freely at a private clinic. Finally, Luis reached the bank records.

Luis let out a cold, mirthless laugh.

Each month, on the fifteenth, identical deposits landed in both men's accounts. The sums dwarfed their supposed earnings, five times what a freight driver or a modest clinic doctor could expect.

Luis studied the evidence in silence, and then crouched low in front of Reginald.

His hand, long-jointed and steady, smacked the file hard against Reginald's chest. The sound echoed in the warehouse, and the man jerked instinctively,recoiling deeper into the corner.