Chapter 7 - The Boy They Were Looking For
The darkness lasted three seconds.
Then the emergency lights came on.
Mara grabbed my arm.
"Where are the boys?"
"The hotel."
"Adrian—"
"I locked it down."
Daniel looked at me.
"Your security won't be enough."
"Why?"
"Because your father owns the company that supplied your security system."
I felt sick.
I immediately called my security chief.
No answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
Mara whispered:
"They're already inside."
I ran for the door.
Daniel grabbed my shoulder.
"Wait."
"Let go."
"If you rush out, they'll follow you."
"My sons are in danger."
"Exactly."
He pointed toward the basement.
"There's a tunnel."
I stared at him.
"Where does it go?"
"Three blocks away."
We ran.
The basement was hidden beneath a wooden floor.
Daniel pulled up a panel.
A narrow passage appeared.
Mara looked at me.
"How long has this been here?"
"Since the house was built."
We entered.
Behind us, glass shattered.
Someone had broken into the house.
Mara grabbed my hand.
"Adrian."
"I'm here."
We moved through the tunnel.
Every second felt like an hour.
Then my phone rang.
A video call.
Unknown number.
I answered.
My father appeared on the screen.
Behind him was the hotel corridor.
I recognized it.
My stomach dropped.
"Where are my sons?"
He smiled.
"Safe."
"Put them on."
"Not yet."
I saw a figure behind him.
My security chief.
Bound.
Blood on his face.
My father's expression remained calm.
"You should have listened."
"Where is Grandfather?"
"Watching."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because you refuse to understand."
"Understand what?"
He leaned closer to the camera.
"One of those boys belongs to me."
I froze.
Mara stared at me.
"What?"
My father continued.
"Not biologically."
He smiled.
"Legally."
Then the screen went black.
I looked at Daniel.
"What does that mean?"
He didn't answer.
Mara suddenly gasped.
"I know."
"What?"
She covered her mouth.
"The adoption."
I stared at her.
"What adoption?"
"When the boys were born, the hospital asked me to sign additional paperwork."
"Why?"
"They said it was standard."
"Did you?"
"Yes."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"But I later found out three of the birth certificates had been altered."
"Altered how?"
"They listed someone else as the legal father."
"Who?"
She whispered:
"Richard Whitmore."
My father's name.
I felt rage rise inside me.
He hadn't only hidden the boys.
He had legally claimed them.
I turned to Daniel.
"Why?"
Daniel looked at Mara.
"Because he needed one child."
"One?"
"One child was the key."
"The key to what?"
Daniel's face became grim.
"The Whitmore inheritance."
I stared at him.
"What does a child have to do with inheritance?"
"Everything."
He opened the folder again.
"Your grandfather changed the family trust twenty years ago."
He handed me a document.
I read the clause.
Control of the Whitmore estate shall pass to the first direct male descendant born to the family line.
I looked up.
"So?"
Daniel pointed to another line.
"Read the amendment."
I did.
My heart stopped.
In the event of disputed paternity, all assets shall remain under the control of Richard Whitmore until the matter is resolved.
I stared at the page.
"Richard has been controlling the company because of this."
"Yes."
"But why hide my sons?"
"Because if you knew you had direct descendants, your grandfather's control would end."
I understood.
My children weren't just children.
They were leverage.
They were heirs.
They were threats.
And one of them apparently carried something even more dangerous.
"What does my father mean when he says one belongs to him legally?"
Daniel shook his head.
"That's what we need to find out."
My phone rang again.
This time it was Mara's.
A nurse from the hospital.
"Ms. Cross?"
"Yes?"
"One of the boys has been taken."
Mara screamed.
"Which one?"
The nurse hesitated.
"Lucas."
Mara collapsed against the wall.
"No."
I caught her.
"Where?"
"We don't know."
I looked at Daniel.
His face had gone white.
"Lucas."
The little boy with the heart condition.
The one my family had paid to save.
The one they had apparently been searching for.
My phone buzzed.
A text appeared.
COME TO THE OLD WHITMORE FARM. ALONE.
Then another.
BRING THE TRUTH.
I looked at Mara.
"I'm getting him back."
She grabbed my jacket.
"You're not going alone."
"I have to."
"No."
She shook her head.
"Not this time."
Daniel stepped forward.
"She's right."
I looked at him.
"We go together."
Outside, the city sirens began.
And somewhere in Boston, my six-year-old son was being held by the people who had stolen six years of his life.
I had no idea what they wanted.
But I knew one thing.
They had made the biggest mistake of their lives.
May you like
They had taken my child.
And now they had given me nothing left to lose.
