Chapter 1789: Chapter 1802

They were in the hall of the hotel.

Many bodyguards were here.

At the center of it all, Holden sat in a chair, toying with a sleek, silver knife that glinted under the lights.

He looked at the man and said, “So, you thought you could Lie to me?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man stammered, his voice trembling.

Cold sweat dripped down his forehead.

“I swear, I don’t know anything! Please… Let me go.”

Holden tossed a photo of Moss to the man, his eyes cold.

“This person’s name is Moss Valdez.

Do you know him?”

“I don’t know him,” the middle-aged man said, his gaze darting nervously around the room.

His face had turned a sickly shade of white, and his hands trembled at his sides.

Without warning, one of the bodyguards strode forward.

In a swift motion, the bodyguard clamped one hand onto the man’s shoulder and shoved his head downward with the other.

Leaning in close, he growled, “You won’t even look at the photo, and you claim you don’t know him? Are you trying to play games with Mr.

Fredrick?”

The man let out a sharp cry of pain.

Mr.

Fredrick? The name seemed to ring a bell, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

Before he could chase the thought any further, the bodyguard forced him to look at the photo.

The man’s heart pounded in his chest, sweat forming on his brow.

“I swear, I don’t know this person.”

Holden’s brow furrowed as he studied the man, watching him tremble.

The bodyguard, his patience thinning, yanked the man’s head back sharply, while his other hand lifted a gun, the cold barrel pressing against the man’s forehead.

“Go ahead and deny it again,” Holden sneered.

“Let’s see how long you can keep up the lie now.”

The man was dumbfounded.

He suddenly realized who Holden was.

Everyone here called Holden Mr.

Fredrick… Could he be the head of the Fredrick family?

As the metallic click of the trigger filled the room, terror washed over the man.

Moss had paid him a lot, but the money wouldn’t matter if he were dead.

“I’ll talk!” the man quickly said.

“I know Moss! He paid me a lot to put on an act.”

However, the gun remained pressed against his head.

“Where did Moss go?” Holden’s voice was cold.

“I… I don’t know!” the man stammered.

“When I went to his suite, there were ID cards and passports scattered on the desk.

I think… I think I saw a plane ticket.

He might be planning to leave Eleymond.”

Holden’s heart thudded in his chest.

He turned to Shawn and said, “Check the flight schedules for all major airlines immediately.”

“On it,” Shawn replied before taking some bodyguards to leave.

The bodyguard who had been holding the gun against the man’s head finally put the gun away.

The man dropped to his knees, desperation etched on his face.

“I’ve told you everything! Can you let me go?”

“Let you go?” Holden scoffed.

“Sure, but you’ll have to wait until I find Moss.

If he didn’t harm my son, you can walk free.

If he did… Well, then that will make you his accomplice.”

The man’s face drained of color.

He quickly said that he had no idea of Moss’ plan.

Holden ignored him.

Soon, two bodyguards dragged the man away.