At that moment, upon hearing what his father just said, Clinton's whole body trembled with rage.
He didn't need to see anything. The sound of the voice alone was enough. His fists clenched tightly around the edge of the chair he was tied to, and through gritted teeth, he spat out with venom, "So it is this bastard… It is this bastard Oliver that actually did this?!"
He couldn't see a thing, but the direction of the voice was too familiar. The way he carried himself, the arrogance in his tone, the calm threat behind his words it could only be Oliver.
Clinton's voice rose, loud and furious. "It is this bastard Oliver that actually kidnapped us?! How dare you?!" He pulled at the ropes again, not caring if the friction bruised his skin. "Do you know who I am?! and what you have just done"
