Chapter 8 - The Hostage Situation
I stared at the red lipstick on the mirror, my heart stopping entirely.
This wasn't a custody battle anymore; it was a kidnapping.
"Mr. Harrison, call the FBI," I ordered, my voice eerily calm despite the terror consuming my soul.
"If we involve the police now, they might hurt the children," Mr. Harrison panicked, pulling out his phone.
"I don't care," I said, running back out to the car.
"Julian is a coward, but Chloe is desperate, and desperate people make mistakes."
I knew exactly which docks the message referred to.
Julian’s family owned an abandoned shipping warehouse on Pier 44, a place he used to hide his luxury cars.
We arrived at the docks as a thick, gray fog rolled in from the freezing water.
The massive metal doors of the warehouse were slightly cracked open, revealing a pitch-black interior.
"Stay here and guide the police when they arrive," I told Mr. Harrison, grabbing a heavy flashlight from the glovebox.
I slipped through the metal doors, the smell of rust and seawater filling my lungs.
"Maya! Liam!" I screamed into the darkness, the echo bouncing off the corrugated walls.
"Mommy!" a tiny, terrified voice cried out from the back of the room.
I shined the beam of light toward the sound, spotting my two children tied to a wooden chair.
I ran toward them, tears streaming down my face as I desperately untied the rough ropes.
"I've got you, babies, I've got you," I whispered, kissing their tear-stained cheeks.
Suddenly, the massive overhead warehouse lights flickered on, blinding me.
"How touching," Chloe’s voice echoed from a metal catwalk above us.
I looked up to see her standing there, holding a black handgun pointed directly at us.
"Where is Julian?" I demanded, pushing the children behind my back.
Chloe let out a dark, hollow laugh.
"Julian is still in a hospital bed, nursing his fractured skull," she smirked.
"He doesn't even know I took the kids. He is too stupid to pull off a ransom."
I stared at her, realizing the depth of her psychopathy.
"You kidnapped children for money?" I asked, gripping the heavy flashlight tightly.
"I want the twenty-four million, Clara," she demanded, descending the metal stairs.
"Sign the estate transfer papers right now, or you won't leave this pier alive."
She tossed a legal document and a pen onto the concrete floor in front of me.
I slowly bent down, pretending to reach for the pen.
Instead, I gripped the heavy metal flashlight and hurled it directly at her face with all my strength.
The flashlight smashed into her forehead, causing her to stumble backward and drop the gun.
I dove across the floor, scrambling to grab the weapon before she could recover.
But a heavy boot stepped down firmly on my hand, crushing my fingers against the concrete.
May you like
I looked up, gasping in horror as Julian stood over me, wearing a hospital gown and a blood-soaked bandage on his head.
"Did you really think I'd let her take my money?" Julian smiled, picking up the gun.
