(Emily's POV)The penthouse shone with golden light. Windows from floor to ceiling showed the city skyline in sharp glitter, skyscrapers casting long shadows against glass walls.Classical music drifted softly from a quartet in a corner, overlapping with the muffled pop of champagne bottles opening.Everything had a faint scent of expensive leather and rosewater. I stood at the side of a marble bar, one hand curled about a flute of champagne, the other lightly poised at my hip. My navy dress hugged my body with subdued dignity, the satin cool against my flesh. My hair was loose, a couple of curls indulgently touching the nape of my neck.David's silver pendant lay warmly at my throat, bedded as if it had been staying there all along. I hadn't taken it off since he'd given it to me that night.The guest list had been kept small on purpose. Thirty at most. Dressed nicely, well-positioned, all comfortably seated or standing talking politely to each other. This was no wild political circ
The campus of the school was quiet, a soft wind blowing across the manicured lawn as Liam and Ethan walked ahead of us, shoulders brushing, the unspoken tension of the past week standing like a cloak between them.The new boarding school was just forty-five minutes from home, close enough for weekend visits, far enough for normal. The security was tighter. Smaller classes. A counselor who she's familiar with, always on campus, all was Megan's idea and it seems perfect.She stood beside me, arms crossed, voice low as she watched the boys disappearing through the dorm doorway."They're okay," she said, but her voice contradicted the tremble underneath.I nodded, my throat tightening. "They're brave."The paperwork had taken hours. Uniforms, welcome packets, signed emergency releases, strict visitor policies.The counselor had looked over her half-moon glasses and promised, "They'll be safe here." I had wanted to believe it. For the boys. For myself.By the time we left, the sky was a de
The living room was heavy with silence. It was 8:00 p.m., and the city outside tightened around us, its hum distant, irrelevant.The one thing that mattered was the little man lying on the couch, Liam. His small body was still under a blanket, his chest moving up and down in shallow breaths. My eyes stayed on him, aching heavily, even as every part of me screamed for the son who wasn't there.Ethan.My eldest.Still missing.I haven't even heard from him, or them yet.I was sitting on the floor, back to the cold wall, shirt wet, hair mussed, my heart pounding in fear. Megan was at the window, blonde hair down, eyes red-rimmed from the long hours. Her jacket had been thrown over a chair hours earlier, her perfume now subtle. She had not moved from my side since yesterday, since the first ransom, since Liam was returned."Victor," she whispered, kneeling alongside me. Her own voice was hoarse. "You must try to sleep. If only for an hour."I didn't respond. Couldn't. The fear in my ches
The kitchen clock ticked more loudly than it should. It was 11:00 a.m., but time stood still, as though the hands wouldn't move until I could breathe again.I sat stiff at the edge of my dining table, damp palms flat against the wood, heart pounding as though it would shatter through my ribs. The air was heavy with the smell of stale toast and bitter coffee, long cold.Megan was sitting across from me, glaring at her laptop, her jaw set in concentration. She had not moved from my side since I told her. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she still wore the same clothes she had on this morning when we were going to take the boys to school.Instead, I got a call.Now my phone screen was black between us, a loaded gun waiting to fire again.It rang.I jumped.Megan's hand clamped around mine in silent reassurance. I took a breath and answered, keeping my voice steady."Yes?"The same very cold voice."Everything we talked about should be in place. No police, no stalling. Ther
(Victor's POV)My kitchen was empty. Morning sunlight slipped through the blinds in narrow slats, barely warming the counter. There was the faint smell of burnt toast in the air.I stood at the sink, shirt not tucked in, tie loose, my hair damp from a quick shower. Coffee sat untouched in a cup.Ethan and Liam are im school now. They went with Megan and her daughter who's in their class too, and her car was their ride. The house was too quiet. The silence pressed against my chest like a physical force.My phone rang at shrill and odd. I glanced at the screen, private caller, no numbers, no name. I wouldn't have answered, but I answered anyway."Hello?"The voice on the other end was male, icy. Flat."Victor Graham. We have your sons. Ethan and Liam. Shut up and listen to me, or they're dead."I froze. The world tipped. My hand fell off the counter, knees buckling. My stomach dropped like stone."Proof," I just about managed.There was a pause. And then I heard it, Liam's voice, small
(Lily's POV)The study room was cozy with morning sunlight. It was a little after nine, and soft rays filtered through the high windows, creating golden spots on our messy table.The room smelled of fresh coffee and ink. There were papers everywhere, notes, open laptops, sketchbooks with José's neat lines and everything vibrated with a focused sort of energy.I was sitting cross-legged in the old wooden chair, jeans soft and worn in, a flowing blouse slipping off one shoulder. My dark hair was tied back, tendrils brushing against the back of my neck. I barely registered.My heart was racing. We were in the middle of our group project, this sustainable urban design thing that was going better than I ever imagined it would. José sat beside me, sketchbook propped open, pencil flying.His hand brushed against mine every now and then, fleeting and warm, just enough to ground me.Sophie leaned in, her smile widening as she jabbed a finger at my laptop screen. "Lily, your stats are killer. W