Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 405 Marcus' POV It had been three days since I'd watched Madeline be taken away by her own parents, and every passing hour felt like eternity. The mental health institute where she was being held was a discreet, well-maintained building. Nothing about it suggested the kind of place where someone could be kept against their will with forged documents. But I was learning that appearances meant nothing when Dominic Blackwood was involved. Olivia sat beside me in the waiting room, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Tension showed in every line of her body.

She hadn't stopped blaming herself since we left the Kensington mansion, insisting she should have done more to prevent Madeline from being taken. "Any news from the investigators?" she asked quietly, as if afraid someone might overhear. We hadn't seen or spoken to each other since she left the mansion, even though we'd agreed to come together today to try to visit Madeline. "We're all over Dominic," I replied, keeping my voice just as low. "Trying to gather solid proof about the illegal casinos, the money laundering, everything.

But the guy knows how to cover his tracks." I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated by how little tangible progress we'd made. "It looks like a lot of people owe him gambling debts," I went on. "And he uses that to keep them loyal. Because otherwise..." I paused. "They just disappear." Olivia nodded, her expression dark. "That's probably how he managed to keep Madeline locked up in here," she said. "Someone in the administration must be under his control." "But shouldn't her parents be the ones making that decision?" I asked, trying to understand how any of this was legally possible.

does. You should've seen them in the car that day. They weren't the aunt and uncle I grew up with anymore. Before I could respond, we were interrupted by

here to visit my wife, Madeline Kensington." "Unfortunately," she said, in a tone meant

the nurse explained, as if reciting a memorized script. She requires medication at strict intervals and has been experiencing adverse reactions. Visits are not allowed at this time." My jaw tightened. 'Medicated.' The word echoed in my head like a

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind, but she forced herself to calm down, at least a little. I turned back to the nurse, pasting on a polite smile. "Could you at least let her know we were Kere? That her husband and her cousin came to see her?" "Of course," she replied immediately. But I knew it was a lie. No message would be passed along. "And when can we come back?" I pressed. "The attending physician reevaluates the case weekly," she answered