Semua Bab SIR: Bab 111 - Bab 120

I just stand there in Lucy’s doorway, staring at her unmade bed, my mind refusing to catch up with what my eyes are seeing. This can’t be happening. “Lucy?” I call again, louder this time, already knowing it won’t change anything. I check the closet. I already checked it, but I check it again anyway, pushing aside her dresses, her tiny jackets, and the raincoat she insists on wearing even when it isn’t raining. “Lucy, baby,” my voice cracks on her name, “if you’re playing a joke on mommy, I’m not amused. Come out now.” Still nothing. My phone is already in my hand and I dial Vincent again, but it goes straight to voicemail. The panic that was simmering under my skin boils over. Vincent left angry and drunk. And he left with my daughter. The thought lands so hard I have to brace one hand against the wall. He wouldn’t hurt her, I know that deep in my bones, but he’s not thinking clearly. He’s hurt and humiliated. And it makes sense that he took her because he knew it would destr

Sel paces the length of the living room while Marcus stands by the window watching the street below like he expects trouble to drive right up to the curb. David sits beside me on the sofa, close enough that our thighs touch, with his hand resting on my knee. I haven’t moved in twenty minutes. The ledger lies open on the coffee table in front of us with its pages spread. Malcolm’s handwriting stares back listing debts and names and amounts that once bought silence and power. Now it sits here, useless, because the man who stole my daughter already has what he needs from it. “We use you,” Sel says, stopping mid-stride to look at me. “Last night you said the second he heard you were with David again was when he snapped and took her right? That kind of jealousy cannot be faked. He’s in love with you.” “So what are you suggesting exactly?” David asks. “We need him to think he still has a chance with Nora. She asks like she regrets what she did and actually wants to give the marriage

David parks two blocks away from Pier 17 and walks the rest. The night is cold, with the wind coming off the river in sharp gusts. Loading dock C is lit by one sodium lamp that flickers every few seconds. The warehouse behind it is dark, showing no signs of either cars or human movement. He steps into the circle of light. Vincent steps out from the shadows of the dock doors wearing a black coat with his deep hands in pockets. David is pretty sure there’s a concealed weapon in those pockets. “You came,” Vincent says, stepping closer. “You asked nicely.” He smiles. “Show me.” David lifts the leather-bound ledger and the will. “Here.” He doesn’t move closer. “Open the ledger. Show me page forty-seven.” David flips to it, revealing a list of names and dollar amounts. He holds it up so Vincent can see. Vincent nods once. “Good. Now put them on the ground and step back ten paces.” David sets them down carefully, then walks backward, counting the steps. Vincent moves fo

Elaine Reid is standing at the end of the hallway like she owns it with her coat flapping open, and face flushed red. "Nora Ellis, what the hell did you do to my son?" The words bounce off the linoleum and draw every head in the corridor. Nurses pause mid-step. A janitor stops pushing his cart. Even the security guard near the elevators turns to watch. I turn slowly, letting her see every inch of the blood still drying on my hands, my arms, and the front of my dress. I don't bother wiping it off. Let her look. Let her see what her precious boy walked into tonight. She marches forward, her heels striking the floor like accusations. "Answer me! I get a call from the hospital saying David is in surgery for a gunshot wound, and the first person I see when I arrive is you, covered in his blood. What did you do to my baby?" I don't answer. I walk past her instead and head straight toward the row of plastic chairs bolted to the wall. My leg

The convoy rolls to a stop half a mile from the hunting lodge, darkness swallowing us the moment we step out. Marcus signals his team with a low hand gesture, and four men peel off toward the tree line, moving quietly with their rifles slung low. Sel stays close to me. “You sure about this?” “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I check the gun at my waist one more time, then meet her eyes. “She’s in there. I can feel it.” Marcus returns from a quick recon of the perimeter. “Motion sensors are active on the east and north sides. Two cameras covering the front porch and the helipad. No visible guards outside. Either he’s confident or he’s waiting.” “Both,” I say. “He thinks we don’t know about this place.” Maya’s voice crackles through the earpiece Marcus gave me. “I’ve looped the cameras. You’ve got a twelve-minute window before the system pings for verification. East approach is clear. There’s a service door on the back side with