“You’re exactly who we’re looking for!”
One of the men kicked the back of my knee, forcing me to kneel.
At the end of the deck stood a woman—her back turned, but her silhouette looked all too familiar.
In front of her, a long rope hung from the edge, suspending..
“Lindon!” I cried out in shock, my voice cracking.
“Daddy!” my son wailed, thrashing in midair.
I stared at Darcy in disbelief. “Darcy! Weren’t we supposed to be on a trip?”
She turned slightly, her voice cold. “Oh, we are. I just didn’t expect you to be so cruel… even to a child.”
“Mom!”
A little boy suddenly flung himself into her arms. His clothes were torn to shreds and dirt streaked his face, washed away in trails by his tears.
“Uncle Bryden… He didn’t send bodyguards to pick us up! He hired people to kidnap me and Dad!” Weston lied. “D-Dad… He risked his life to push me out! That’s how… That’s how I made it back to find you, Mom…”
He sobbed breathlessly, barely able to get the words out—but I caught a glint of smug satisfaction in his eyes when they flicked in my direction.
I didn’t have time to argue or explain. There were too many lies, and I could only grit my teeth and stare at Darcy.
“What did he just call you?” I asked, rage restraining my voice.
“Bryden.” Darcy grabbed my chin with force, not answering me. “I did make mistakes in the five years we were apart. I missed you too much.”
“But I’ve always tried to protect your dignity,” she added, recalling everything. “I let the world think he was a single father. I made them pretend I was just a stranger—someone they couldn’t call as their wife or mother. I did that for you!”
She stared at me, shaking her head. “So tell me, why are you so cruel? Why would you go so far… even to murder a child?”
At that moment, I wasn’t sure what hurt more—my jaw under her grip, or the pain crushing my chest.
She snapped, “Tell me, Bryden. Where is Wyatt?!”
Tears dripped down onto her hand. But I clenched my jaw. “I don’t know.”
“Really?”
Her smile was terrifying.
Suddenly, the rope holding Lindon slackened.
“Daddy!” my boy screamed.
“Think carefully, Bryden,” Darcy warned. “Your son doesn’t know how to swim.”
“Darcy! That’s your biological son!” I shouted in horror.
“And so is Weston!” she retorted. “And yet you still laid hands on him!”
Her grip on my jaw tightened so hard I thought it might crush.
For the first time in my life, my wife looked at me with pure hatred.
“Lindon has fifteen seconds, Bryden. Make up your mind.”
The bodyguards had already started counting.
“Ten… Nine… Eight… Three… Two—”
“17 Crestwood Street!” I shouted, trembling.
It was the address I’d arranged for Wyatt and his son to be taken to by my men.
This was the only card I had left to play.
Darcy stepped away to make a call. When she hung up, there was a pleased smile on her face.
Just as I began to breathe in relief—she smiled again.
“Lindon can’t swim, Bryden. You’d better hurry.”
The hands restraining me suddenly let go.
At the same moment, the rope suspending Lindon snapped!
“Daddy!”
My son’s small body… plummeted into the ocean!
