Lyndon knelt beside Rita, helping her up. "You alright?"

"I'm okay," she said, wincing as she held her stomach, managing a faint smile.

His nerves frayed over Tilda's safety, Lyndon's face was taut with urgency. He turned to Casper. "Get Rita and Sheldon to a hospital for a full check."

Then, he snapped at his security team, "You're all with me!" "Yes, sir," they replied as one.

Lyndon grabbed the keys from a guard, jumped into the car, and gunned the engine, tires screeching.

The van was long gone, but his jaw was set with resolve, his gaze icy and focused.

Keeping his composure, he dialed a contact at the traffic authority, asking them to trace the vehicle.

Minutes later, they called back, telling him that the van was heading towards the coast.

Muttering a quick thanks, Lyndon pushed the car faster, tearing through the streets.

Then his phone Lit up with an unfamiliar number. A chill told him it was about Tilda's abduction.

He answered the call. "Who is this?"

"Lyndon, it's been a while."

The voice on the other end of the line oozed malice. Every syllable dripped with sinister familiarity. Lyndon's eyes narrowed.

"Alex?" he asked, his tone edged with caution.

A dark chuckle resonated from the other end of the line. "Bingo. Lyndon, can you guess why I'm calling?"

Lyndon's lips curled into a smirk. "A leopard doesn't change its spots. Someone like you is undoubtedly up to no good."

"Lyndon, still sharp-tongued as ever, huh?" Alex snapped, voice laced with rage, barely keeping his fury in check.

"Just say what you want," Lyndon replied coolly. "I don't have time for games."

Alex's voice dropped into a venomous growl. "You've got twenty minutes. If you want your precious wife to leave this night with her dignity and life intact, get to the shoreline. Alone. And don't even think about calling the cops. Unless you want her death to be... slow and inventive."

The line went dead. Lyndon stared at his phone, jaw tight, heart pounding.

So, it was Alex behind Tilda's abduction-payback for what happened at the banquet.

The coward had finally reemerged from the shadows.

With cold resolve, Lyndon pulled out his phone and dialed.

At an abandoned warehouse near the coast, the air hung heavy with damp and decay.