Back to the ‘70s: My Life as the Trouble-Maker's Bride

Grace was furious. Stuart had left without even looking at her, let alone saying goodbye. She realized then—he truly meant it this time.

She wanted to make a scene, but couldn't find the strength.

When Charles returned, she looked behind him. "He's gone? Didn't leave anything?"

Charles sighed. "Mom, what else do you want from him? After all these years, he's given enough. In his words, he's repaid both the debt of birth and the debt of upbringing."

Grace scoffed. "That's nothing. Just being born owes me a lifetime of repayment."

Charles frowned. "Mom, you nearly got him killed back then. And are we even sure he's your biological son?"

Grace exploded. "Shut your mouth! What nonsense is that? If I didn't give birth to him, did he pop out of a rock?"

"Oh, so now that he's cut us off, you're saying he's not your son?"

Charles fell silent and slumped in a chair.

Grace sat down too, muttering about how ungrateful Stuart was, calling him a heartless brat. She then turned her ire toward Annette, blaming her for bringing chaos into their family.

...

Meanwhile, in the car—Sean had slowed down. Up ahead, someone was waving at them, trying to stop the vehicle.

"What's going on?" Sean asked.

Stuart squinted. "Don't stop. Either drive through or reverse."

"You sure?"

From the backseat, Annette leaned between the front seats. "Why? He's probably in trouble. People don't usually rob you in broad daylight."

But Stuart pointed toward the overgrown ditch nearby. "The way the grass is moving doesn't match the wind. Someone is hiding in there."

Amateurs always exposed themselves.

Sean eased off the gas. Annette squinted at the ditch but saw nothing. "You can tell that just from the grass? What are your eyes made of—radar?"

Sean chuckled. "His eyes are better than radar."

The man trying to stop them noticed their hesitation. He waved more frantically and began pushing his rickety bike toward them.

Sean smirked. "Some people don't value their lives, huh? Trying to stop any car that passes."

Stuart tapped his knee with his fingers, then suddenly said, "Back up. He's carrying something."

Sean obeyed instantly, slamming the gear into reverse and flooring the gas. The car shot backward.

Annette grabbed the seat in front of her to avoid getting thrown around. She was stunned by the quick reaction. Impressive driving.

Once they had retreated a hundred meters, Sean stopped the car. Calmly, he turned to Stuart. "What kind of robber straps explosives to himself?"

These days, the roads aren't exactly safe. Remote areas often had bandits. But they typically targeted delivery trucks or lone travelers—rarely armed with bombs.

"Got anything on you?" Stuart asked.

Sean shrugged. "Nope. You said not to bring weapons. I even turned in my gun—didn't even keep a fruit knife."

Stuart went quiet, calculating. "They won't give up that easily."

Sean clicked his tongue. "They're messing with the wrong people."

Annette, still confused, kept her eyes on the man ahead. Suddenly, he ran back to the ditch and dragged someone out—a woman, bound and gagged.

Sean cursed. "You've got to be kidding me."

Annette's sharp eyes narrowed. That green scarf—she recognized it. "Isn't that Laura?"

Sean blinked. "Who?"

Annette gave him a look. "Laura. The one who used to be Stuart's 'almost-girlfriend.'"

Sean fell silent. With that tone, any wrong answer from him could blow things up.

Stuart ignored them, eyes locked on the scene. "Drive up."

Sean followed orders and slowly drove forward.

At twenty meters away, it was clear—the hostage was indeed Laura.

Sean's thoughts raced. Stuart's wife in the car, his ex outside. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

The kidnapper started yelling. "Out of the car! Now!"

Sean glanced at Stuart. "Should I go first?"

Stuart shook his head. "Wait."

The man grabbed Laura by the hair, yanked out the gag, and pressed a knife to her face. "I'll count to ten. If you don't get out, I'll slice her face!"

Laura looked terrified, sobbing and staring at the vehicle.

Still, Stuart didn't move. Annette was grudgingly impressed—his calm was unshakable.

Sean started to fidget. "They're clearly after us. What's the plan?"

Stuart assessed the terrain. "Can you swing around him from the left?"

Sean nodded. "Barely."

"When he counts to seven, floor it. I'll grab her."

Sean nodded again. "Got it. Be careful."

At six, Annette's heart was pounding. She didn't know how Stuart planned to save Laura, but this was going to happen in seconds.

The engine roared.

In one fluid move, Stuart leaned halfway out the window. As they passed the kidnapper, he snatched Laura by both arms and pulled her into the car.

Before the man could react, they were already a hundred meters away.

Annette clutched the seat in front of her, eyes wide as Stuart held Laura.

Her stomach churned.

Stuart had just held another woman.

He was no longer clean.

Sean drove for another mile before stopping. He helped Stuart ease Laura into the backseat.

Just then, a group of men wielding shovels and sticks appeared in the rearview mirror.

Sean didn't hesitate. He slammed the gas again, speeding away.

Annette looked at Laura, pale and unconscious beside her, and had to fight the urge to shove her out of the car.