Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife
Chapter 648

Chapter 648: Chapter 648

"No, it’s always been Mr. Elliot who took the initiative to contact them. They only had Mr. Elliot’s mobile number.

When I used their phone to call him, it was switched off."

Gordon paused before he continued, "I sent a message to Mr. Elliot from their WhatsApp, tricked him into thinking we have Ms. Rose, but he didn’t respond."

"From what you’re saying, he probably guessed that Bowen and his team have fallen into our hands. He won’t respond anymore."

"Wait, what?" Gordon was taken aback. "You mean, I blew our cover?"

He had hoped to lure Elliot out, but it seemed he had been discovered sooner than expected. And here he was, thinking he had pulled it off without a hitch.

"The hospital called to inform that Rose left. Follow her but don’t let her come to harm," Bard instructed casually. "As for Elliot, I’ll have someone else look into this matter."

"Yes, sir!"

Gordon took his leave immediately after receiving his orders.

Rosemary took a taxi to Wach Town. The driver kindly warned her to be careful as it wasn’t a safe place for a young woman.

Rosemary thanked him for his caution, paid the fare, and got out of the car. The sky was dark. It looked like a storm was about to hit.

The town looked run-down and dilapidated. The narrow streets were messy and chaotic. Straggling pedestrians, who looked poor and weather-beaten, walked by. There were beggars too—unlike the typically pitiful ones, these beggars were aggressive, snatching things from the weak and elderly.

Rosemary didn’t want to stir up unnecessary trouble, so she decided to mind her own business.

After exiting the cab, she put on her hoodie to blend in with the crowd and followed the signs into a dark, narrow alley.

The alley was dim and decrepit. The dirty cobblestones were covered in green moss. There was a drunken husband yelling at his wife, a group of young men stealing from an elderly person, and a man beating a child.

As Rosemary walked past each house, she could hear different sounds and see different scenes.

Some elderly people, starved and frail, sat in front of their homes begging for food.

There were also children who had died from illness, wrapped in a blanket and left on the doorstep, their family members crying around them.

The narrow alley ended with stone stairs that led upwards. After about a dozen steps and a left turn followed by another seven or eight steps, she was in another dimly lit alley.

The town’s alleys were intricate and labyrinthine, exuding a sense of antiquity and nostalgia.

Rosemary followed the worn and broken house numbers and continued forward.

A group of smoking young women noticed her clean clothes and shoes. Even though they couldn’t identify the brand, the clothes looked nice. So, they decided to follow Rosemary.

Rosemary pretended to take out a pack of tissues from her pocket, and something fell out. One of the women quickly picked it up, saw a note about late-stage cancer and a debt of twenty thousand euros, and instantly signaled the others to abandon their pursuit.

Rosemary walked into another alley. A few young men saw her fresh and refined face under the hat and started following her.

One of them whistled and asked, "Are you from Solterra? I’m from Solterra too."

Rosemary ignored them and didn’t look back. She was just seven or eight houses away from the hiding place of Cornell, the husband of the female stall owner. But the young men didn’t seem to want to give up.

Especially the scruffy blond at the front. He blocked Rosemary’s way with a pose he thought was charming and suave. He raised his chin and asked, "What’s your name?"

Rosemary resisted the urge to punch him and coldly said, "I don’t have any money. Get out of my way."

The blond man chuckled, "I ain’t asking for your money. Now your face, that’s a different story. Think you could keep us company for a bit?"

"Sure, I’ll join you later."

Rosemary planned to give them a beating they wouldn’t forget, but she had more pressing matters at hand.

Just as she tried to walk away, the man moved to block her path again.

"Hold on, doll. Do you think you can just slip away without even giving us a good excuse?"

He reached out to cup her chin, but Rosemary quickly dodged his grasp.

The other local boys closed in, their laughter ringing out as they reached out to touch her.

Just as Rosemary was about to take them on, a person dropped from the eaves. With a swift kick, he sent one of them flying, then plunged a fist into the others, placing himself protectively in front of Rosemary.

Rosemary looked up, a smile tugging at her lips. "Gordon?"

"Ms. Rose," Gordon said, standing firm. "I apologize for the fright."

"You think you’re some kind of hero?" the blond man was fuming. "This is our turf!"

The boys instantly pulled out their knives and lunged at Gordon.

Gordon, with his professional training, clearly had the upper hand.

In no time, the boys were beaten down, begging for mercy, pleading with Gordon to let them go.

"Fuck off."

At Gordon’s command, the boys scrambled away.

Turning to Rosemary, Gordon asked, "Ms. Rose, are you alright? Mr. Bard sent me. He was worried."

"I know," she replied. "You’ve been following me ever since I got off the car."

Gordon was taken aback; he hadn’t realized that Rosemary had detected his presence so early.

"Ms. Rose, why are you here? What are you doing here?"

Before Gordon could finish, the sound of shattering glass reached their ears. Rosemary reacted instantly.

"Oh no."

She ran towards the door labeled 6-498, which had been locked from the inside. Unable to open it, she stepped back to kick it down, but Gordon rushed over.

"Ms. Rose, let me—"

Before he could finish, Rosemary kicked the door open and strode in.

Gordon was shocked. He hadn’t expected Rosemary to be so strong. The door had been locked from the inside—even he, a grown man, might not have managed to kick it down in one go.

How did Rosemary do it?

Inside, Rosemary found a dim and untidy living room. A bowl of porridge sat untouched on the coffee table, indicating that the occupant had fled through the window without finishing their meal.

The skylight was small and made of sealed glass. In order to escape through it, one would have to smash the whole thing to provide enough space for an adult.

It was clear that Cornell had fled when he realized someone was coming.

Rosemary was about to follow when Gordon suddenly grabbed her arm.

"Ms. Rose, wait."

He cleared away the shards of glass on the edge, and only when he was sure there was no danger did he crouch down.

"Ms. Rose, step on me to get up."

"No need." Rosemary pushed him away, took a few steps back, and with a swift run-up and a jump off the wall, she easily reached the skylight and exited through the window.

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