The Day They Forced My Wife to Remarry, I Returned

"Dad, help... They took Mom away."

Victor Jennings heard his daughter Anna Jennings' trembling voice in his ear.

He bolted upright in bed, his palm pierced by a wood splinter from the bed frame from gripping too hard, blood dripping through his fingers onto the floor.

He grabbed the cracked phone by his bed—this was his top-secret personal phone, its number known to only three people.

In seven years, this phone was ringing for the first time.

The girl's voice came through intermittently, mixed with soft sobs:

"My stomach keeps growling... yesterday Ivan scraped moss off the wall for me to eat, it was so bitter... but I didn't throw up, throwing up would make me hungrier..."

Victor's fingers clenched suddenly, blood flowing more freely. He struggled to control himself, his voice hoarse and cold:

"Anna, tell me, where are you?"

"Anna doesn't know..." her voice carried a crying tone, "it's so dark here, water's running down the walls, dripping constantly, every day when I wake up, the water's still dripping. I've scratched so many marks on the wall with my fingernails..."

Victor's heart seized with pain, his voice rough. "Anna, don't be scared. Tell me, where's your mom?"

"Mom's next door, with iron chains, locked around her neck, like a big dog..." Anna's voice dropped to barely audible, "Just now that fat man came, Mom spat at him, so he hit Mom. Ivan covered Anna's eyes, wouldn't let me watch..."

He was about to ask more when hurried footsteps came through the receiver, along with Ivan's lowered, breathless voice, "Anna! The fat man went to the bathroom, quick, give me the communicator!"

"Dad, it's me, Ivan. Right now their leader called everyone away for a wedding rehearsal, but I can't talk to you long—that guard on duty will be back soon..." The boy's voice came through the phone, carrying a composure beyond his years.

"Ivan..." Victor's eyes stung. When he'd left Ivan, he was only three. Now he'd grown into a young man who could protect his sister.

"This should be a basement. Anna and I are locked in the same room. Mom's next door to us. She's been under constant watch, but she was just taken away."

"Before she left, she touched the pendant on Anna's neck—that's when I discovered the communicator's secret."

Ivan spoke quickly and clearly. "Right now, I don't know exactly where we are, but I counted—from when we got out of the car to entering this room, about two hundred thirty steps. Outside, we can hear train whistles, about every fifteen minutes, not too far away."

Victor burned this information into his mind.

"Anna keeps crying from hunger." Ivan's voice finally showed a trace of trembling. "I could only let her eat moss..."

Victor's heart throbbed with dull pain again, anger and heartache intertwining, eroding his rationality.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone steady. "Ivan, listen, you're doing great. Stay with Anna, don't make a sound, no matter what you hear, don't come out."

"Dad, you will come save us, right?" Ivan asked. This was the first time, after all his talking, that he showed a child's proper tone.

"Yes!" Victor nearly crushed the phone. That was his wife and children—how could he not save them!

"You and Anna wait for me. I'm coming to get you right now..."

Just as he finished speaking, the sound of leather shoes stepping through puddles came from the distance.

"That fat guard is coming back..." Ivan lowered his voice. "Dad, we're waiting for you."

The next second, the call was cut off.

Victor stared at the cracked screen, his eyes blazing with fury.

Ignoring his blood-soaked palm, he dialed a number directly.

The communicator was answered almost instantly.

"Zack." Victor's voice was ice-cold.

"A communicator just called in. The number's registered owner and exact location, nearby areas... find out everything within three minutes."

"Yes, sir." Zack Thompson wasted no words. Keyboard clicking came through the receiver.

Two and a half minutes later, Zack's voice returned:

"General Jennings, I can only narrow it down to L City's east district. The signal was very short, as if it came from underground. There's a freight train every fifteen minutes nearby."

"Initial assessment is that it's the territory of The Iron Gauntlet, the newest major crime syndicate in L City's east district."

Victor closed his eyes. A rough location was enough. The rest would have to be paid for with lives.

Murderous intent surged in his eyes.

"Emergency assembly, everyone."

"Yes, sir."

Two minutes later, the bunker corridor was filled with veterans.

Military boots stamped on the cement floor, shaking snow loose from overhead.

Victor pushed open the door and walked out.

Countless versions of legends about him circulated outside: some said he was a retired major general from the special operations force 'Scythe,' the king of mercenaries, controlling an intelligence dark web spanning three continents... but unfortunately, 'he' was now a prisoner.

He'd spent seven years lying low, like a rusted blade buried in snow. Now the blade was unsheathed, and beneath the rust was an even colder edge.

Zack stood at the front of the formation, his 7-foot height blocking the doorway, his bald head crossed with a dozen old scars.

"Reporting, General Jennings, full assembly complete." His voice boomed with the solemnity unique to soldiers.

Victor's gaze slowly swept over everyone, like a frozen blade. "Sophia, Anna, and Ivan are locked in a basement in L City. Most likely, The Iron Gauntlet's doing."

"Get all three of them out in the shortest time possible!"

"Yes, General Jennings!"

The veterans pressed their hands to the military knives at their backs, their roar deafening.

Victor turned toward the bunker's iron ladder, squads of veterans following close behind.

The frozen ground's iron door was kicked open. Wind and snow rushed in, ice chips hitting skin and leaving red marks.

No one stopped.

Zack stepped out through the passage into the wind and snow.

"General Jennings, the plane's already at Krasnoyarsk airport, ready to take off anytime."

"When was this prepared?"

Victor was somewhat surprised—he hadn't given this order.

"Seven years ago." Zack wiped the ice and snow from his face. "After following you for ten years, everyone knew you'd go back eventually. We've all been waiting for a reason worth bloodshed."

Victor nodded slowly.

Just then, Zack's phone rang.

He listened for a moment, his expression immediately turning serious. "General Jennings, latest news from Lilith—your body double died this morning. Louis Black is holding a wedding tomorrow at St. Mark's Cathedral. The bride is... is your wife."

Victor's eyes held the calm before a blizzard as he said coldly:

"Time?"

"Tomorrow at 2 PM."

Victor immediately made a phone call.

"?" A woman's seductive voice came through.

"Lilith, it's me."

Lilith Waters, the actual controller of L City's underground intelligence network, is known as the "Black Queen."

The other end paused for a moment, then came the sound of a lighter flicking.

"Looks like Zack already told you. What do you plan to do?"

Victor's tone was icy. "Within half a day, help me arrange one thing..."

After finishing the call, Victor rubbed the wedding ring on his left thumb—his and Sophia's—and said to his subordinates:

"Since Louis dares to hold a wedding, we'll go give him a funeral!"

The engine roars drowned out the sound of wind and snow. Rows of SUVs connected end to end, cutting into the snowy plain, heading toward the airport.