Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 272

Chapter 272

Third Person’s POV

The moment he clicked the ward door shut, the warmth on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a deadly chill.

“It was that piece of trash Connor.”

Barton roared savagely in Mortimer’s mind, viciously tearing at an imaginary prey, “He dared to harm our mate! I’ll rip his throat out and shred his inner wolf to pieces!”

Mortimer’s jaw tightened, his gaze turning ice-cold.

Tade,

who had been waiting outside, immediately stepped forward. Forced back half a step by the suffocating aura bleeding off Mortimer, he managed, “Alpha.”

“How about Connor?”

“Still in the ICU under observation. His injuries are worse than Garfield’s. The doctors said he might never come around.”

Hearing that, Mortimer could no longer restrain the violence brewing deep within him.

The oppressive force of a dominant alpha erupted from him like a physical blow. The hallway went freezing cold as an invisible weight seized everyone in its grip, wrapping around their chests so tightly they could barely breathe.

Tade’s face went completely pale, his legs turning to jelly.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to push through the crushing weight. “Traffic surveillance found… Connor had been staking out that street since last night, just waiting for Garfield’s car to pass. According to the tracking data, Connor was originally aiming directly for the backseat where Sera was sitting. For some reason, at the last second, his truck swerved slightly, slamming hard into Garfield’s side on the driver’s seat instead.”

Mortimer pinched the bridge of his nose. Only then did the suffocating aura around him slowly recede, though the predatory glint in his eyes grew sharper. “Sera and the others heading to the airport today-how could a wanted fugitive like Connor know their schedule so perfectly? Keep digging. Find out everyone who contacted Connor in the last forty-eight hours.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Tade felt like he had just been granted a stay of execution, his voice still trembling slightly.

Mortimer stared into the air, his voice cuttingly cold as he spoke to Barton in his mind, “The bastard behind Connor is the real target.” Barton bared a row of bloody fangs, letting out a bloodthirsty, cruel chuckle. “Then we drag them all to hell together.”

“Where is Caldwell?” Mortimer pulled back his thoughts, his voice dropping an octave.

“After he left the medical center, he went straight back to his apartment,” Tade reported honestly. “Do you suspect him?”

Mortimer didn’t give a direct answer. He merely ordered with a dark face, “Keep a shadow on him. Monitor his every move. Don’t miss a single thing.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

After Tade left, Mortimer stepped back into the room.

Seraphina was still asleep, his brows locked tight.

If it was for revenge, why didn’t Connor come after him directly? Why target Seraphina?

Connor wasn’t an idiot. If he was prepared to go down in a murder-suicide, wouldn’t killing Mortimer be a better revenge?

Blood began to slowly seep through his fresh bandages.

“Caldwell, you can’t entirely blame me this time. The crash wasn’t supposed to be that severe. Who knew Connor would be such a fool that he couldn’t even handle a simple task? It really is a shame she had to suffer for it.”

The man spoke with extreme warmth, even his vocabulary reflecting the benevolent grace of an elder.

Yet to Caldwell’s ears, it made his blood run cold.

“A pawn that stupid can only be used once, don’t you think?” the man added casually.

“Caldwell, you are my only son. My empire will be passed down to you eventually, but you have to put in some effort yourself. You need to secure that shipping line from the Craig Group as soon as possible.

“The Blade pack murdered your biological father and left you and your mom wandering out there for years, suffering. The Blade pack owes your family of three. You’re just taking back a fraction of it.”

Caldwell didn’t say a word. With a dark, expressionless face, he hung up the phone.

He understood the hidden threat behind the man’s words.

If this time was just a “nudge,” next time would be a warning.

He pressed his hand gently over the bleeding wound, then forced it down, digging into the flesh.

It was as if this self-inflicted punishment was the only way to dull the sharp edges of his guilt over what he had done to Seraphina.