How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

Chapter 172

Stuart had always said he only turned off his phone on flights, with no exceptions.

So when Morwenna couldn't reach him, worry crept into her mind like a stubborn vine.

She recalled the day she bought her phone. The young tech at the store had mentioned that her model had a tracking feature identical to Stuart's.

With quick fingers, Morwenna activated the app and located Stuart's signal. It was far, near the southern outskirts of the town.

Without a second thought, she hopped on her bike and pedaled vigorously towards the signal.

Morwenna couldn't pinpoint her unease. Stuart was a grown man, capable and strong. Yet the thought of the scars he bore from past mishaps fueled her anxiety.

When riding swiftly, the dusk turned to deep night, but her experience navigating through dimly lit. Rural paths kept her pace steady.

After two hours, she reached the vicinity of the pinpointed location.

The signal had remained constant, showing no movement.

The area was clearly suburban, with just a narrow path that cars would struggle to pass, but the bike handled it with ease.

Morwenna raced towards the red dot on her phone.

Up ahead, she spotted a heap of junked machines and behind it, an abandoned factory.

The precise GPS marker placed Stuart inside.

Why would Stuart be here? Why hadn't he taken off yet? It's late.

As she drew closer, she abruptly stopped. Growing up hunting in the woods had honed her night vision and instincts.

From a distance, she spotted two menacing figures at the factory entrance.

One clutched a baseball bat, the other a knife that gleamed sinisterly under the moonlight, its blade stained with what looked like dried blood.

A chill ran down Morwenna's spine. Was Stuart kidnapped? Was he hurt? What had these men done to him?

But fear was a luxury Morwenna couldn’t afford. The wilderness had taught her that danger demanded calmness.

She retreated slightly, concealing her bike in a nearby thicket. Squatting low, she watched intently. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

From her hidden vantage point, Morwenna was virtually invisible. Her petite frame and youthful appearance made her an unlikely threat in the eyes of any passerby.

She waited, her gaze fixed on the factory entrance. The men took turns for breaks, ensuring one always guarded the door.

As midnight cloaked the sky in darkness, one guard left for a bathroom break. The remaining one, appearing tired, lit a cigarette and leisurely smoked.

Gripping a steel rod she’d found by the garbage pile, Morwenna moved silently towards him. Her approach was stealthy, each step calculated with the precision of a seasoned hunter closing in on her prey.