“Sir what happened?” Marc looks up to see Stanford and Swan, looking back worriedly at him and his phone. “Oh my! Mr. Greyson! What happened to your face?” Swan as if just noticed how badly bruised he was, had a hand over her mouth.
Marc smiled weakly. “A man’s business… nothing to worry about,” he tried grinning but it hurt his cheek. “And the message? What did you receive? Why did you yell out?” Stanford reaches to inspect his cuts but Marc politely rejects the assistant’s hand.
“I might have a clue who she's with, or in specific who has her,” as if magic, the rest had their attention to him like bees to a flower. “Where is she?”
“How do you know?”
"Who texted you?"
Calming everyone down, Marc passed his phone to Chet who looked like he could kill someone, or said person in the pict
