Chapter 215 Bring Him To Me By Tonight
“What do we do now? Should we still go through with the wedding tomorrow? William refuses to come back! We can’t very well have a wedding without the groom, can we?” Esme fretted, wringing her hands.
Eric paced the room, his frustration mounting with every unanswered call. He had rung William’s phone over and over, only to be met with an abrupt
disconnect.
“That brat! He is a grown man and still behaving like some love–struck teenager! Romance, romance–that’s all he ever thinks about!”
“And what good does complaining do now?” Esme snapped, her voice edged with urgency. “We need a solution! What are we going to do about the wedding?”
Eric let out a sharp breath, pulled out his phone, and dialed his secretary.
The moment the line connected, he barked, “Still no sign of William? What’s the point of having you on my payroll if you can’t even track down my own son? It’s been two days! You useless bunch of fools!”
On the other end, the secretary nearly dropped his phone in terror, his knees going weak.
“W–we have some leads, sir. A couple of days ago, he went out to sea. By now, he should have returned, but-”
“Then why the hell didn’t you drag him back?” Eric cut in sharply.
The secretary swallowed hard, inwardly groaning. Did Eric forget who they were dealing with?
William had been a special forces captain. A man like him didn’t just get “dragged” anywhere unless he allowed it!
“Take more men if you have to! I don’t care what it takes–bring him to me by tonight!” Eric ordered, his voice like a whip crack.
The secretary wiped the sweat from his brow and stammered, “Y–yes, I’ll see to it right away.”
sir!
Just as the call ended, the screech of tires outside shattered the tense silence, followed by the sound of deliberate, measured footsteps.
Esme’s breath caught in her throat before a wide smile spread across her face. Her racing heart finally settled.
“It’s William!” she said, relief and joy coloring her voice.
Sure enough, a second later, the door swung open, and William strode in. He was dressed in a crisp black suit, his movements smooth and unhurried. Even in business attire, his military bearing was unmistakable—straight- backed, sharp–eyed, exuding the kind of authority one didn’t question.
People often said William was born to be a soldier—a leader, through and through.
“Mom. Dad.” William greeted simply.
His gaze flickered from Esme’s radiant expression to Eric’s thunderous one, but he didn’t offer an explanation.
Sensing the storm brewing between father and son, Esme hurriedly stepped in, her voice gentle yet firm, hoping to prevent another clash that might send William storming off again. “It’s good that you’re back,” she said quickly, offering a warm smile. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something just tell me what you’d like.”
“Thanks, Mom, but I’ve already eaten.” William shook his head.
He made no mention of the wedding, nor did he acknowledge the tension
m
hanging in the air like a drawn bowstring. Instead, he settled onto the sofa, picking up an orange and peeling it with an almost lazy indifference, the fragrant zest misting into the air.
Esme glanced nervously between her husband and her son.
Eric, still bristling with barely restrained fury, fixed William with a cold stare. His voice was as sharp as a blade when he finally spoke. “You will attend the wedding tomorrow. No more games.”
Esme’s fingers tightened around the hem of her dress. She braced herself, expecting resistance–another argument, another fight, another vanishing
act.
But William didn’t rise to the bait. He merely flicked a glance at Eric, and then back at his orange, before replying in an even tone, “Okay.” The simple response took Esme by surprise. Her breath, which had been caught in her throat, finally eased, and she sank onto the sofa beside him, smiling
with relief.
Gently, she reached out and patted his arm. “William,” she said softly, choosing her words carefully. “I know you don’t agree with this marriage, but sometimes, we don’t have the luxury of choosing our own path. Your father is facing a difficult time, and you’re our only son. If you don’t help him, who else can we rely on?”
William lifted his gaze to meet Eric’s, his eyes dark and unreadable. After a brief pause, he spoke, his tone calm yet carrying an unmistakable weight. “Dad, you’ve spent your whole life working tirelessly. You’re not as young as you used to be. Maybe it’s time to step back and retire. Take Mom on a well–deserved vacation–wouldn’t that be a better use of your time?”
