My daughter was kidnapped. They wanted a billion. Every second felt like my chest was being ripped open, but I got the money together, hands shaking, and hit “transfer.”
Then: Transaction failed.
I thought it was some glitch until I realized the truth: my account had been frozen. By my husband’s mistress. His secretary.
I stumbled into the office, desperation making me sound frantic. “Why?! Why would you do this when my daughter—”
Jenniva didn’t even flinch. She dug into her drawer, pulled out two measly dollars, and tossed them at me.
“Here,” she said, the coins spinning to the floor like a joke. “A down payment. Go tell the kidnappers. Maybe they’ll take it in pieces. If not…” She smirked, tilting her head. “Maybe they’ll give your daughter back in installments too.”
Something inside me cracked. “You fucking bitch!” I slammed my hand against her face, once, twice, the sting shooting up my arm.
Jenniva shrieked, clutching her cheek. “Odette! You— Gillian! Help me! Help.”
The door slammed open. Gillian appeared, his shadow swallowing the room. He didn’t hesitate.
“Odette! What the fuck are you doing?!”
His boot slammed into my chest, cracking ribs, stealing my breath. I hit the floor, gasping.
Then he pulled Jenniva close, cradling her like she was fragile. His gaze cut through me, cold and sharp.
“Touch her again and I swear,” he growled, “I’ll make sure everyone knows what a dog you are for the rest of your life!”
The words hit harder than the kick.
Before I could even breathe, my phone buzzed. A message. My hands trembled as I opened it.
The video played. My baby… Zenith… her tiny fingers crushed one by one, tears choking her sobs. Blood smeared her little hands.
“Mom! Mommy, help me! Please!”
The sound ripped me apart.
“Gillian… please!” I rasped, dragging myself across the floor, ribs grinding against the pain. “She’s our daughter! Your daughter. Zenith… she’s just a kid. Do something. Call them. You have the money… save her.” My voice shattered, raw and bleeding, but I forced it out, every second slipping through my fingers like sand, every second bringing her closer to death.
Gillian’s eyes darkened but not with fear, not pity, just cold contempt. “Our daughter?” His laugh was low, sharp, like poison. “Odette, how many times do I have to spell it out? She isn’t mine. I already ran the DNA tests. My only child was Gibeah—my daughter with Jenniva.”
“That test was—” I tried to scream, but it came out as a broken sob. “It was fake. Jenniva—she—”
“Enough!” His voice snapped like a whip, cutting my words in half. He pulled Jenniva closer, as if she were the fragile one and I didn’t exist. “You’re pathetic. You think I don’t see right through you? The tears, the begging, the screaming… it’s all the same act. You staged this, Odette. Paid some thug to snatch that kid just so I’d look at you again. Admit it.”
My chest felt like it had been punched out. “No—Gillian, I swear—”
His sneer deepened. “You’re so desperate for attention you’d trade your own child’s terror for it. Even if those fake kidnappers actually hurt her, it wouldn’t matter to me. Zenith isn’t my blood.”
Right on cue, the door creaked open.
“Dad!” A bright little voice, like sunlight cutting through darkness. Gibeah, Jenniva’s golden girl, ran in, barbie doll clutched in her hand, tugging at Gillian’s sleeve. “Can we go to the amusement park now? You promised!”
The scene was ugly. Normal, everyday ugly. I was folded on the floor like shattered glass, and there was Gibeah, smiling like sunshine, while Zenith’s screams from the video still burned in my head.
Something inside me snapped. I crawled across the floor, pressed myself to Gillian’s knees, clutching him like a beggar.
“Please,” I choked, tears streaking my face. “Please, Gillian… save Zenith. Let Jenniva unfreeze the account. Do whatever you have to… I’ll sign the papers, leave your life, vanish. Just… just save her. She’s only a little girl. She’s ours.”
“Cute story. I never froze it, baby,” Jenniva said, all innocent. “Maybe she emptied it herself. Maybe she’s just playing games.”
“Stop acting like a saint, Jenniva!” I spat.
“Who’s this?” Gibeah whined, frowning at me like I was some bug on the floor. “She’s ruining my mood, Dad.”
And just like that, Gillian’s face softened… not for me, not for Zenith, just for Gibeah.
“Don’t worry, princess. She won’t bother you again.” He signaled his men. “Take her away.”
Rough hands yanked me up. I screamed, twisted, begged. They dragged me down the hall, my voice drowned under Gibeah’s happy laughter fading behind me.
The storage room door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed me whole. I pounded it, ribs screaming, throat raw. “Please! Gillian! Jenniva! Please!” Silence. Only the clock in my head, ticking down to the ransom.
My phone was still in my pocket. Shaking, I pulled it out. Thumb hovering over the only name left. I pressed dial.
It rang once. Twice.
Click.
“Aamon speaking,” a voice said.
