The Kidnapping

004

Andrea read the text again. This time, he took his time, but the words stayed the same, just like always.

“You might want to ask your ex-wife what she’s hiding.”

 He placed the phone down on the desk.

What was Isabella hiding?

He asked to no one as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. His mind raced through everything he knew about her and their life.

It was obvious he didn’t know much.

Andrea leaned back in the leather chair, which creaked under his weight. He slowly raised his eyes to the dark glass wall of his study. Beyond the glass, he could see the city glowed, and the lights from the high-rise buildings reflected in the night.

What could have gone wrong? He thought things were under his control. People responded to his words, systems bent to his will, but Isabella had always been the issue.

That thought irritated him deeply as he picked up the phone again. This time, his fingers were steady. He dialed, and the line connected right away.

“I need everything” he said. His voice was calm and devoid of emotion.

“Yes” he added, expecting the question before it came.

“Even the insignificant ones” he said, drumming his fingers on the desk.

He hung up without waiting for a response.

Andrea stood up, stretched his back, and walked to the window. He watched his reflection staring back at him.

Whoever sent that message wanted him to confront Isabella, and that made him very suspicious.

His eyes narrowed. If Isabella was hiding something, it meant two things: she believed she could keep it from him, and someone else knew.

He pressed his palm against the glass and stared at the city. The lights flickered like distant stars. The cool glass pressed against his hand, but Andrea's mind wouldn’t stop racing. He needed answers.

***

Isabella sat on the soft cushion of her small apartment’s living room. She curled her legs beneath her as the cushion dipped slightly. The apartment wasn’t big, but it was cozy. Her brother Miguel had bought it for her.

She stared blankly at the walls. Though she could see them, but her mind was elsewhere. She had been like that all day, sober and thinking about the one person she never wanted to speak to.

Andrea.

Pushing her to the floor after catching him cheating with her best friend was the last straw.

Andrea has crossed lines she never wanted crossed. She decided to divorce him to protect her unborn baby. Isabella knew that if she stayed in that mansion, she would lose the pregnancy.

She remembered the cold marble floor against her back, the pain and fear all mixed together, and the way her body had instinctively curled around her stomach when Andrea pushed her.

The thought alone made her swallow hard.

Andrea had done enough. She wouldn’t take chances again. So why was she still thinking about him?

Why did his face slip into her thoughts without warning? Why did her chest ache when she remembered his voice? Why did she still desire a man who had hurt her so badly? She missed him, and she hated that she felt that way.

Isabella pressed a hand to her stomach as she felt the tiny flutter of life inside her. The baby kicked as if sensing her unease.

Why did she still long for a man who had hurt her? Shouldn't she hate him by now? She asked herself these questions with no answers.

Just then, the door clicked open, and Miguel walked in.

“Hey, sis,” Miguel’s voice called, excitedly.

Isabella lifted her head, relief washed over her as she saw Miguel. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. She smiled faintly.

Miguel's eyes swept over the apartment. He paused at the dining table. The food he had prepared was untouched and covered.

Miguel frowned.

“You didn’t touch your food?” he asked, lifting the cover. Steam rose gently. 

“You’ve been starving yourself for days, you can't continue like this” he said.

“It’s not good for you. You know the condition of the baby. You can’t take any chances” he explained.

Isabella looked away, fixing her gaze on the floor.

“I’m fine” she whispered. “I’ll eat later.

Miguel’s brow furrowed. His voice softened with frustration. He knew exactly what was going on in his sister's head.

“You still miss him, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, and I hate myself for missing him” Isabella admitted slowly.

“You need to stop thinking about him, not after what he did to you” Miguel added.

Isabella remained silent. Miguel sighed and sank onto the cushion beside her. The weight made the cushion dip. His hand brushed hers briefly, grounding her and reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“Isabel” he called softly, drawing her gaze.

Isabella's chest rose and fell quickly. She knew what her brother wanted to say before he said it.

“I know you want your kids to have a father figure” Miguel continued gently.

“But Andrea… he’s an asshole. He’s not worthy to be a father, and you can’t let him back into your life.”

Isabella’s lips trembled as she tried to speak, but no words came out.

“I’m done with Andrea” she finally said, her voice low but firm.

“Don’t worry about him.”

Miguel studied her face for a while. These were the same words she had said at the hospital. He didn’t want to doubt his sister, so he nodded slowly and stood up to stretch.

“Then go eat your food, okay?”

She nodded, silent.

“I’ll be going to work now” he said.

Before she could respond, he bent down and placed a hand gently on her stomach. Isabella gasped, startled, then felt a smile tug at her lips.

“Hey, cutie” Miguel said playfully, his voice lighter now. “What do you want uncle to get for you? Ice cream?”

The baby kicked, a tiny, insistent movement that made Isabella laugh softly.

“You’d love strawberry, huh?” Miguel whispered, brushing his hand across her belly again.

She nodded, her smile widening. Miguel planted a kiss on her forehead before standing fully and heading to the door.

Isabella followed him outside and watched as he got into his car and drove off. She raised her hand and waved.

“Be safe ” she whispered. Once Miguel’s car was out of sight, she turned to go back inside. That was when it happened.

A car sped into the compound suddenly. Isabella froze, and her heart raced. Confusion flashed across her face as she turned.

Before she could process what was happening, strong hands grabbed her roughly. She screamed.

“What are you doing?” she shouted, struggling wildly. “Let go of me!”

Her feet dragged against the ground as she fought back, but they were too strong, too fast, and too skilled. They overpowered her with ease. She kicked and tried to fight back, but her efforts were futile.

“Stop! Please!” she cried, tears streaming down her face, but no one listened.

Instead, they shoved her into the car as if she weighed nothing. Isabella hit the leather seat hard. The door slammed shut, the engine roared, and the car sped away.

Isabella sobbed uncontrollably as she pushed against the men who held her.

“Please! Let me go! You’ve got the wrong person, please!” she cried, but they ignored her.

Instead, a rough hand pressed a cloth against her nose and mouth. She struggled, but the chemical smell was too strong. It burned her senses, and her strength faded instantly.

Isabella's eyes widened in panic as the world began to spin around her, and then she passed out.