The Ex and Her Riches novel (Gwendolyn and Maverick)

With those comforting words, Cedrick felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“You’ve been taking care of Benny all day long. Rest early. Let me be the one to watch over him at night,” he said.

Charles, never one to mince words, half-jokingly responded, “Being his biological father, it would be good for you to

spend a little more time with him. Otherwise, when Benny grows up, he might be closer to me than to you.”

“I’m not going to pamper my son. If he dares to be closer to you than me, I’ll give him a lesson he won’t forget,”

Cedrick replied without a hint of hesitation.

Charles was momentarily taken aback. With a snort, he said, “Benny must have accumulated some seriously bad

karma in his past life to be reincarnated as your son. He’s only three months old, and you’re already contemplating

how to discipline him in the future.”

Arching an eyebrow, Cedrick gave him an unwavering look.

Chuckling, Charles continued, “Considering Benny’s fragile health, we should check for any remnants of the S404

RNA virus in his body as he grows older. He may need to take medication for the long term to ensure his well-being.

With his delicate health, he requires tender care. I don’t believe for a second that you could ever bear laying a hand

on him, and even if you could, I highly doubt Gwen would ever agree.”

Cedrick remained silent at that.

Gwendolyn’s unwavering devotion to their two children often made Cedrick feel a twinge of envy. He couldn’t help

but think that they held a higher place in her heart than he did. Even slightly rough handling of the children from

him would result in a scolding from her.

Dissatisfaction welled up inside him, prompting him to change the subject. “Benny gets hungry once during the first

half of the night. I’ll feed him with a bottle later. You can watch over him during the second half of the night. This

way, both the godfather and the biological father will be caring for him, and he’ll be even more pampered and

coddled.”

Charles, struggling to contain his amusement, chuckled and said, “Very well, I’ll rest for now. Just let me know when

it’s time to switch shifts.”

He settled onto the adjacent bed, covered himself with a thin blanket, and drifted off into slumber effortlessly.

Cedrick stole a glance at Charles’ slumbering form before checking the time on his wristwatch.

It was nearly midnight. He wondered if Gwendolyn had already succumbed to sleep.

It had been an eternity since they had been apart like this since being married. Would she find it unsettling?

His thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind. Not long after, he realized that he had unconsciously braved through

the first half of the night.

A day passed, and Channing confirmed that he would meet one of the suspected masterminds on Cedrick’s list to

discuss a collaboration.

In the evening, while Cedrick and Charles stood beside Benny’s hospital bed, they received an update.

The text read: There’s an update, boss. This person’s company has no ties to the milk powder industry, and there

are no illicit factories operating without proper licenses within the company. We’ve eliminated our suspicion of him

for now.

Cedrick’s gaze deepened as he put away his phone.

On the list he provided to Channing, there were four names, all of whom were suspected of involving in nefarious

activities. One had been ruled out.

Pondering over the situation, he placed his phone on the nightstand and carefully lifted Benedict, heading to the

fully-equipped nursery next door to prepare his baby formula.

Meanwhile, Charles remained in the infant ward, organizing Benny’s toys, diapers, and clothes.

Ring! Ring!

Cedrick’s phone on the nightstand rang, signaling an incoming call.

Charles glanced at it. It displayed an unknown number.

Thus, he paid little attention to it, continuing his tidying of Benedict’s belongings.

The persistent ringing, however, grew increasingly annoying. Finally, he walked over and picked up the phone,

intending to answer, only to find the call had been disconnected.

“What are you doing?”

Cedrick’s voice came from behind him near the door.

Charles turned around, holding the phone out to him. “Just a moment ago, an unknown number called multiple

times. Since they kept calling, I thought I’d pick up and take a message for you, but they hung up.”

The coincidence of the situation struck him. Glancing at Cedrick’s serious expression and sensing his disbelief,

Charles added, “I didn’t pry or look at anything. I don’t know your phone’s password either. During my time at the

Central Intelligence Agency, I never learned how to crack passwords. You can rest assured.”

Only then did Cedrick step forward and accept the phone while cradling the baby in his other arm. Then, he dialed

the number that had called him earlier.

The call connected swiftly on the other end.

After the short call, Cedrick’s expression shifted. “It’s Channing. It seems like the mastermind has taken the bait.”

Their gaze met, and in the quiet room, their expressions grew even more serious.

Charles inquired, “Do you need to embark on a mission tonight?”

Cedrick nodded.

Charles took the initiative to approach, relieving Cedrick of his hold on Benedict. “I’ll take care of him. You go and

ensure Gwen’s safety.”

Cedrick nodded once again before turning to depart from the ward.

Night draped its veil upon the world, with the symphony of chirping birds and buzzing insects filling the forest.

At this moment, lights flickered within Channing’s modest villa.

A mere half-hour ago, he had received an invitation for collaboration. The sender, aware of his involvement in

Gwendolyn’s kidnapping, wanted to extort a considerable sum from Cedrick. After two days of observation, they

reached out to Channing.

Having prepared well in advance, Channing eagerly awaited their arrival at the villa’s entrance.

Over an hour later, several figures emerged from the darkness, wielding flashlights.

As they approached the illuminated area near the villa’s entrance, Channing finally saw their faces.

The three men stood before him, tall and imposing. They were all clad in dark-colored suits and donned sunglasses.

A hint of displeasure creased Channing’s brow. “Mr. Wendell invited me to collaborate with him, yet he himself fails

to appear. Instead, he sends three bodyguards to handle the situation. Isn’t that rather perfunctory of him?”

The lead bodyguard replied, “This was not intentional. Mr. Wendell has pressing personal matters to attend to.

When we check the hostage later, I will arrange a video call with him, and you can communicate directly.”

A derisive smile tugged at Channing’s lips.

He only dares to discuss collaboration over video calls. What a cowardly guy Wendell is! He’s like a tortoise, always

hiding in its shell.

However, to establish a modicum of trust with the other party, Channing refrained from voicing his dissatisfaction.

“Gwendolyn is locked in the basement. However, Mr. Wendell’s sudden interest in collaboration tonight necessitates

caution. You shall not enter the basement or approach Gwendolyn. I will merely crack the door open by a fraction

for you to verify her condition.”

The bodyguard nodded, showing understanding. “Got it.”

“Well, what should I call you?” Channing inquired.

“I’m Quintrell Olsen,” the man responded.

With a gesture, Channing moved slightly to the side to allow the three bodyguards to enter.

As they walked through the garden, Channing narrowed his eyes, observing the sunglasses shielding their faces. His

voice held a tinge of curiosity as he remarked, “It’s so dark at night around here. Are you certain you can see

clearly through those sunglasses?”

Quintrell replied with confidence, “Rest assured, Mr. Kron. We’re accustomed to this. Our vision remains clear even

with sunglasses on.”

Channing pressed his lips together. “The stone path in the garden is quite bumpy. Be careful not to stumble. If you

get injured, you’d better not tell Mr. Wendell that I was the one who caused you harm.”

“Mr. Kron, you jest.”

No longer interested in exchanging pleasantries, Channing took the lead and walked ahead quickly, allowing the

undercover Federal Bureau of Investigation officer, who was masquerading as the housekeeper of the villa, to guide

the three bodyguards.

Soon, they arrived at the basement.

The heavy mahogany door creaked open slightly, revealing a narrow gap around the width of a fist. Soft, dim yellow

light spilled out, casting an obscure and somewhat hazy ambiance.

In the center of the basement was a chair. Gwendolyn was on it, bound and gagged. Her limbs were restrained, and

her head hung limply as if she was unconscious.

Quintrell, the lead bodyguard, checked Gwendolyn’s condition from several meters away, carefully studying her.

The sunglasses masked any emotion that might have been revealed in his eyes.

“Her hair appears immaculate, and her attire is impeccable. There are no visible signs of injury on her person. Do

you always treat your kidnapped captives so well, Mr. Kron?” Quintrell remarked, taking a step forward. He

intended to enter the basement and get closer.

However, the undercover Federal Bureau of Investigation officer who was disguised as a bodyguard blocked his

path.