Mr. Singers remained impassive, his gaze not even flickering towards Mr. Arnold as he delivered his response. "When it concerns Andrea, no action is too extreme. I will not hesitate to offend anyone in my search of her," he stated calmly.
The guests erupted in a chorus of gasps and murmurs, with Mr. Arnold visibly teetering on the brink of losing his composure in the face of Mr. Singers' words.
Mr. Singers' blatant disregard for Mr. Arnold was palpable, a level of disdain typically reserved for private conversations rather than public displays like this one.
Halting the entire event to embark on a search for a woman, described in unflattering terms as "fat and ugly," was unprecedented.
Despite the fire of anger blazing in Mr. Arnold's eyes, he found himself unable to voice his frustration, a fact that only served to worsen his already distressed appearance.
"I will not rest until those responsible for Andrea's disappearance are held accountable," Mr. Singers declared icily, his words carrying a chilling weight that sent shivers through the assembled guests.
In the crowd, Mr. Gibson spotted his granddaughter fidgeting with her friends and immediately suspected her involvement in Andrea's disappearance.
"Mr. Singers, do you plan to confront all of the Sunshine City elites over a woman?" Mr. Gibson asked incredulously.
He hoped to persuade Mr. Singers to reconsider his decision to seal off the entire bouquet hall while silently instructing his granddaughter to release Andrea.
However, a dissenting voice chimed in, "Mr. Gibson, Mr. Singers is searching for his wife. It's not about defying the elite circle of Sunshine City; we should all support him in finding his wife," putting an end to Mr. Gibson's hopeful intervention.
Enraged, Mr. Gibson shot a glare at the man who spoke up, a prominent businessman in Sunshine City. Realizing he couldn't intimidate him, Mr. Gibson reluctantly abandoned his glare.
Under Mr. Singer's orders, the entire bouquet hall was encircled by armed men in black, creating an impenetrable barrier. Not a single soul could leave the hall unnoticed.
A piercing scream suddenly shattered the tense silence as Anne crumpled to the ground.
Mr. Gibson's head snapped in her direction, his heart pounding in his chest as he witnessed his granddaughter being cradled by a stranger. With a thunderous roar, he dashed towards them, his voice echoing through the hall, "Get help! Call an ambulance!"
Mr. Singer's cold gaze bore into the unfolding scene, his expression unreadable as he checked his watch and declared in a chilling tone, "All communication lines have been severed. No one leaves or contacts the outside world until we review the surveillance footage."
Mr. Gibson quivered with fury, his attempts to dial for emergency assistance futile as his phone displayed no signal.
Even those attempting to assist Anne halted in their tracks at Mr. Singer's command, their reluctance to defy him palpable in the air.
Tony led three men in suits to where Mr. Singers was standing and announced, "We have retrieved the footage."
"Display it for all to see," Mr. Singers commanded in a deep, commanding voice.
Having already instructed some of his men to seek out Andrea within the hotel, Mr. Singers watched intently as the LED screen on the wall began to play back the surveillance footage captured when Andrea was present in the hall.
As the footage unfolded, Mr. Singers' expression grew increasingly grim. Witnessing the humiliation Andrea endured at the hands of Anne and her friends, his gaze turned to one of intense anger directed at Mr. Gibson and Anne.
Both the grandfather and granddaughter recoiled in fear, unable to meet Mr. Singers' stern gaze.
Upon seeing Andrea locked in the restroom, Mr. Singers could no longer contain his emotions. He swiftly exited the hall, shouting at Tony, "Call an ambulance!"
Rushing to the dimly lit restroom area, a member of the electrical team approached Mr. Singers, urgently stating, "Mr. Singers, our team is working diligently to restore the lighting. Please allow us a moment."
Mr. Singers, consumed by anxiety and panic, disregarded everything he was saying as he frantically switched on his phone's torchlight. He proceeded to forcefully kick each toilet door, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Andrea! Andrea! Can you hear me?"
As he continued his desperate search, one door stood resilient against his kicks - the very door behind which Andrea was trapped. With a sense of urgency, he threw his body against the unyielding door, reassuring Andrea, "I'm here, Andrea. Don't be afraid."
Upon the sudden illumination of the room, the hotel management swiftly arrived with spare keys to unlock the door. Mr. Singers' heart skipped a beat as he beheld Andrea lying unconscious on the cold floor. Without hesitation, he lifted her tenderly, calling out in a voice filled with alarm, "Where is the ambulance?"
The atmosphere in the bouquet hall shifted suddenly as Mr. Singers, typically composed and unflappable, appeared anxious and terrified, a sight that shocked everyone present. Not even during significant challenges like facing tough competitors or navigating through a market crash that cost him billions had Mr. Singers shown such vulnerability. This unexpected display of fear from him left the onlookers stunned.
Anne, sensing the tension in the air, swiftly tried to make her way out of the crowd, but her attempt was promptly halted by one of Singers' associates, who coldly informed her, "Miss, you are not permitted to leave. There is a strict directive that prohibits anyone from exiting the bouquet hall until Mr. Singers gives the word."
"I'm Anne Gibson. I'm not leaving the hall; I simply need to use the restroom," Anne responded with a forced smile, hoping to bypass the guard swiftly.
"Step back," the stern man in the black suit with a gun insisted impatiently, his gaze sharp and threatening.
Feeling intimidated, Anne retreated into the bouquet as Mr. Singers returned to the hall after confirming that Andrea was safe.
The blue tie that adorned his neck had vanished, and his coat lay discarded on a nearby chair. His eyes blazed with anger, and his expression was one of pure malice.
Fixing his intense gaze on Anne and her companions, he spoke in a low, menacing tone, "Why? She never wronged any of you. Why did you harm her?"
Anne and her friends hung their heads, unable to meet Mr. Singers' furious stare.
Silence lingered in the room until Mr. Singers pressed on, "The Singers Group and—"
However, before he could declare open hostilities in business, he was abruptly cut off.