Chapter 154
Despite Gareth’s considerable clout in Hithol City, Julien didn’t help him directly. However, Julien did drop hints about the identity of the assailant, Ekely Bowen, and the other key figure involved in the incident.
Gareth finally understood and wondered, "That’s why Samson was at the police department. No wonder the cops were so tight-lipped; they must be afraid of crossing Bowen."
Gareth believed that there must be someone out there who could put Bowen in his place.
The moment Gareth learned of Aubree, her entire dossier landed on his desk that same day.
“She’s got some skills. But thinking she can latch onto Bowen and marry him? Pure fantasy,” Gareth sneered, then called his secretary.
“Got it confirmed? Has Enrique been going to the park to play chess every day lately?” Gareth asked his secretary.
Bowen didn’t dare confront trouble head-on, but there was no way he could just let his son’s beating slide—especially with the boy still in police custody. Once his injuries healed, jail time was a real possibility.
That very afternoon, Gareth headed straight to Souther Park—Enrique’s usual chess haunt—to waylay the old man.
Ethan reported, “Mr. Turner, Gareth went to Mr. Enrique Turner and complained that you’ve lost your head over a woman, completely disregarding the Timberlake family’s honor. He wants Mr. Enrique Turner to intervene.”
Bowen didn’t go to the office today—he’d had one too many last night after summoning Ollie and Mark out for drinks. Now his temples were throbbing with a dull, dizzying ache.
Bowen thought, "He sure knows who to go to. I’ll go check it out myself. Get two men to tail Mark—I want to know what he’s been up to lately."
Bowen winced at the memory of last night—how Ollie had kept refilling his glass, plying him with drink after drink until Bowen was drunk, then said things he’d rather not remember now.
"Just chase who you like? If you let her slip away, you’ll be left with nothing but soul-crushing regret," Bowen wondered, "Absolute nonsense."
Even now, recalling it, Bowen’s ears still burned, but what truly concerned him was Mark’s attitude.
As Bowen was about to leave the Nightshade, Mark stepped in and blocked his path.
His words were utterly baffling. Mark asked, “Bowen, is that girl called Aubree?”
Bowen asked, “What about her?”
Mark said, “Since she doesn’t need you anymore, just act like she never existed. I’ve found out some things recently. Just trust me on this.”
When Mark got serious about something, it was no trivial matter.
“Mr. King,” Ethan exclaimed and thought in shock, "Mr. King? Isn’t he Bowen’s close friend?"
“Yeah,” Bowen nodded.
Ethan didn’t dare ask any more. “Dealing with Mark? That’s way out of my league with his skills and counter-surveillance abilities," he wondered. But then, it hit him he knew just who to turn to.
"Damn, this job’s way over my head—but Ning would kill it," Ethan thought.
In Souther Park, Rithol City, after retiring, Enrique didn’t have many hobbies. He just liked going to Souther Park to find someone to play chess.
He was just about to win today’s game when an unwelcome interruption suddenly barged in and ruined the moment.
Enrique had married young, as was common in his generation. Despite losing his eldest son prematurely, he was only in his early seventies.
Yet his hair had long since turned completely gray, and the deep lines on his face spoke volumes about a lifetime of hard-earned wisdom.
Sitting upright on the stone bench, Enrique commanded respect with his very presence. People reverently addressed him as Mr. Turner.
Despite being only a few years younger, Gareth looked every bit the clueless junior standing before Enrique, completely overshadowed by the elder’s commanding presence.
Enrique remained calm as he idly rolled a white chess piece between his fingers. “Well, Mr. Timberlake, fancy seeing you here. Decided to grace the park with your presence and play some chess today!”
Gareth didn’t dare acknowledge the title.
Gareth, his face a picture of utter distress as he stooped low, pleaded, “I know it’s entirely my fault for rudely disturbing your peace, Mr. Turner, but I am truly at my wit’s end.”
Enrique had retired from family affairs, and his only remaining connection to the Turner family was through his late eldest daughter’s marriage, a relationship he’d completely squandered over the years.
Normally, Enrique refused visitors, so Gareth had no choice but to waylay him at the park.
He explained, “Does Mr. Bowen Turner really have to take it out on my boy over some girl? His men beat my son half to death. Jacob’s still in the hospital. And now, thanks to Mr. Bowen Turner, the police won’t budge. It’s obvious he is just trying to put my boy behind bars.”