7:The Empty Cradle

The coldness in Julian’s eyes was worse than his anger. He didn’t shout. He didn’t make a scene. He simply walked away, leaving Elara standing in the center of the ballroom, a golden bird trapped in a room full of vultures.

Lydia’s triumphant laughter rang in her ears, but Elara didn’t stay to defend herself. A sudden, cold dread—sharp as an ice pick—settled in her gut. It wasn't about the money. It wasn't about Julian’s father.

It was the man she had seen in the shadows.

She remembered the way he had looked at her—not with judgment, but with the calculated gaze of a predator waiting for the alpha to leave the pack.

"Leo," she whispered, her voice a strangled gasp.

She didn't wait for Julian. She didn't wait for the car. She hitched up the heavy silk of her gown and sprinted toward the exit, ignoring the gasps of the socialites and the blinding flash of the paparazzi’s cameras. She burst into the night air and frantically signaled a taxi.

"The Sterling Grand! Fast!" she screamed at the driver.

The ride felt like an eternity. Her mind played a horrific loop: the man in the suit, the empty penthouse, the defenseless boy. When the taxi finally screeched to a halt, Elara didn't wait for the change. She threw a handful of bills at the driver and bolted for the elevator.

Please, God, let him be okay. Please.

The elevator doors opened to the penthouse. The lights were dimmed, just as they had left them. But the silence was different now. It wasn't the silence of luxury; it was the silence of a tomb.

"Leo?" she called out, her voice cracking. "Mrs. Gable?"

She had left her neighbor there to watch him, but as she stepped into the foyer, she saw a shadow slumped against the marble wall. Mrs. Gable was unconscious, a dark bruise blooming on her temple.

"No!" Elara shrieked. She ran past the woman and burst into the master suite.

The star-shaped nightlight was still glowing, casting soft shadows of galaxies across the ceiling. But the center of the massive king bed was flat. The covers were tossed aside.

The cradle was empty.

Leo’s tattered stuffed rabbit lay on the floor, its long ears crushed.

"Leo!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the glass walls. "LEO!"

A movement by the floor-to-ceiling windows caught her eye. The glass door to the balcony was cracked open. The curtains fluttered in the wind like ghosts.

She ran to the balcony, the cold wind whipping her hair into a frenzy. A man was there, his silhouette dark against the city lights. He was holding a small, struggling bundle wrapped in a blanket.

"Put him down!" Elara yelled, her voice raw with a mother’s rage. She didn't have a weapon. She didn't have power. But she had the desperation of a woman with nothing left to lose.

The man turned. It was the same man from the gala. "He’s a valuable piece of property, Ms. Vance. The Sterling Heir is worth more than your life."

"He is a child!" Elara lunged at him, her nails clawing at his face. The man snarled, shoving her back. She hit the stone floor hard, the silk of her gold dress tearing.

He stepped onto the ledge, preparing to move to a waiting harness or a secondary escape route. Leo let out a terrified, muffled cry.

"LEO!"

"Drop him, and you die before you hit the pavement."

The voice was like a thunderclap.

Elara looked up. Julian was standing in the doorway. He wasn't the cold CEO anymore. He looked like a god of vengeance. His tuxedo jacket was gone, his white shirt was unbuttoned, and he held a sleek, black handgun with the steady hand of a man who had been trained to kill to protect his own.

His eyes weren't on Elara. They were fixed on the man holding his son.

"Julian..." Elara sobbed from the floor.

"Not another word, Elara," Julian said, his voice a low, vibrating growl. He stepped onto the balcony, the wind howling around them. "Put the boy down, and I might let you live long enough to tell me who sent you."

The kidnapper looked at the gun, then at the sheer drop behind him. He looked at Julian’s eyes and saw no mercy.

He didn't put the boy down. He smirked. "If I can't have the heir, Julian... nobody can."

He shifted his weight to the edge.

"NO!" Elara screamed, scrambling toward them.