Aria POV
Everyone started looking around, searching for caras, but I knew it was useless. Marcus had been planning this for months. Years, maybe. He’d had ti to plant surveillance everywhere.
"We can’t send the FBI away," Agent Sarah said firmly. "Ms. Monroe, Mr. Blackwood, I understand you’re desperate, but we cannot let a kidnapper dictate"
"Get out." The words left my mouth before I could think. "All of you. Get out."
"Ms. Monroe"
"I said get out!" I stood, and sothing in my face must have been terrifying because the agent actually stepped back. "My son just begged on cara to co get him. He’s scared and alone and thinks I abandoned him. So whatever Marcus wants, whatever sick ga he’s playing, I’m doing it. And if that ans telling you to leave, then you’re leaving."
"Aria, think about this," Olivia pleaded. "Marcus is unstable. You can’t trust anything he says."
"I don’t trust him but I don’t have a choice."
Damien was nodding, his jaw set. "She’s right, everyone out. Now."
Agent Sarah looked between us, clearly wanting to argue. But sothing in our expressions—maybe the desperation, maybe the fury—made her relent.
"Fine," she said coldly. "But we’re setting up in the apartnt across the hall. And if things go wrong, we’re coming in whether you want us to or not."
"Understood."
She gestured to her team, and they began packing up. Laptops, recording equipnt, evidence bags. Within five minutes, the penthouse was empty except for Damien, Olivia, and .
"I’m not leaving," Olivia said before I could tell her to. "So don’t bother."
I was too tired to argue, too broken to fight. We sat in silence, watching the clock count down.
Twenty-nine minutes until the livestream.
Twenty-nine minutes until we found out what Marcus really wanted.
Twenty-nine minutes until the entire world watched us beg for our son’s life.
Damien’s phone rang, shattering the silence. He looked at the screen and his face went even paler.
"It’s Marcus," he said. "He’s calling directly."
"Answer it," I said. "Put it on speaker."
He did.
Marcus’s voice filled the room, smooth and pleasant, like he was calling to chat about the weather.
"Hello, brother. I trust you received my ssages?"
"What do you want?" Damien’s voice shook with barely contained rage.
"What do I want?" Marcus laughed. "I want what was always mine. But we’ll get to that. First, I want you to understand sothing. Both of you."
He paused, letting the silence stretch.
"This isn’t about money. It isn’t about the company. It’s about making you feel exactly what I’ve felt for the past thirty years. Powerless, abandoned and unwanted."
"Marcus, please" I started, but he cut off.
"Twenty-eight minutes, Aria. I suggest you prepare yourselves. What cos next... well. Let’s just say the world is going to learn exactly what kind of people you really are."
The line went dead.
I looked at Damien, saw my own terror reflected in his eyes.
"What is he going to do?" I whispered.
Damien shook his head slowly. "I don’t know. But whatever it is..."
He reached for my hand and let him take it."We face it together."
The clock ticked down.
Twenty-seven minutes.
Twenty-six.
Twenty-five.
Twenty-three minutes.
The laptop sat on my coffee table like a bomb waiting to explode. The streaming link was already loaded, the screen black with a countdown tir in the center.
00:23:47
00:23:46
00:23:45
I couldn’t look away from it.
"You should eat sothing." Olivia pushed a plate toward —crackers and cheese she’d found in my kitchen. "You haven’t eaten in almost twelve hours."
"I can’t." The thought of food made my stomach turn. "I can’t eat while Noah"
My voice broke because I couldn’t finish the sentence.Damien paced by the windows, his phone in his hand, still making calls despite Marcus’s warning. His other hand was wrapped in gauze from where he’d punched the wall, small spots of red seeping through.
"I don’t care about the stock price, Harrison," he said into the phone, his voice clipped. "Liquidate whatever you need to. I want fifty million in cash ready to transfer within the hour. Unmarked accounts, untraceable." A pause. "Because I said so, now do it."
He hung up and imdiately dialed another number.
"Who are you calling?" I asked.
"Everyone." He didn’t look at . "Private security firms. Forr special forces. People who can find Marcus if the FBI can’t."
"Marcus said no heroes."
"I don’t care what Marcus said." His voice was savage. "He has my son, our son. I’m not sitting here waiting for him to make demands. I’m preparing for every possible scenario."
"Even the one where Noah gets hurt because we didn’t follow instructions?" The words ca out sharper than I intended.
Damien finally looked at , and the anguish in his eyes nearly undid .
"Do you think I don’t know that?" His voice cracked. "Do you think I’m not terrified that every decision I make could be the one that..." He couldn’t finish. "But doing nothing isn’t an option. I can’t just wait and hope Marcus has rcy because the Marcus I know doesn’t."
He was right. I knew he was right. But the fear was eating alive.
"Fifteen minutes," Olivia said quietly, watching the countdown.
Damien crossed to the couch and sat beside . Not touching, but close. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, see the tension in every line of his body.
"Whatever he shows us," Damien said, his voice low, "whatever he says or does, we don’t break. We don’t give him the satisfaction."
"He has Noah." My hands twisted in my lap. "He already has all the satisfaction he needs."
"No." Damien turned to face . "He wants more than Noah. He wants to destroy us. To break us completely but we don’t let him. We stay strong, for Noah."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to scream that staying strong ant nothing when my baby was scared and alone in so concrete room with a monster. But Damien reached for my hand, and I let him take it.
His fingers were cold. Shaking slightly. He was just as terrified as I was.
"I’m sorry," he whispered. "God, Aria, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. All of it. Marcus is my brother, my family, my"
"Don’t." I cut him off. "We don’t have ti for guilt right now. We just need to focus on getting Noah back."
He nodded, his throat working as he swallowed. "Whatever Marcus wants—the company, money, my life—he can have it."
"Our lives aren’t ours to give away anymore." I looked down at our joined hands. "We have a son who needs us. Both of us."
It was the first ti I’d acknowledged it out loud. That Noah needed his father. That Damien had a role in this beyond just money and resources.
Sothing shifted in Damien’s expression. Hope, maybe. Or gratitude.
"I won’t let you down again," he said. "I swear to you, Aria. Whatever it takes."
"Ten minutes," Olivia announced.
My phone buzzed. Another text from the unknown number.
Get comfortable. This is going to take a while. And Aria? You might want to send your friend away because this is family business.
I showed it to Damien.
"I’m not leaving," Olivia said imdiately, reading over my shoulder. "He can’t make ."
"Liv"
"No." Her voice was fierce. "You’re not facing this alone. Either of you."
I wanted to argue, but the truth was I needed her. Needed soone in this room who wasn’t drowning in guilt and rage. Soone who could think clearly when Damien and I couldn’t.
"Stay," I said. "Please."
She squeezed my shoulder, then moved to the armchair across from us. Close enough to help, far enough to give us space.
The countdown hit five minutes.
My heart was racing so fast I thought I might pass out. Damien’s grip on my hand tightened until it hurt, but I didn’t pull away.
"Whatever happens," I said quietly, "we don’t negotiate against each other. We’re a united front."
Damien looked at , sothing fierce in his eyes. "United front," he agreed.
Four minutes.
Three.
Two.
My phone buzzed again.
Rember: the whole world is watching. Smile for the cara.
"What does that an?" Olivia asked, alard. "What cara?"
Damien was already on his feet, scanning the room. "He said the stream goes public. He’s broadcasting this, which ans"
"He’s broadcasting us too," I finished, horror dawning. "He’s showing them our reactions."
"Jesus." Damien ran his hand through his hair. "He’s turning this into a spectacle, trying to make us perform for an audience."
One minute.
I pulled up the streaming link on my phone too, so we could both watch. Olivia moved her chair closer, positioning herself where she could see.
Thirty seconds.
"Breathe," Damien said, though I wasn’t sure if he was talking to or himself. "Just breathe."
Twenty seconds.
Fifteen.
Ten.
The black screen flickered.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
The stream went live.
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