Chapter 7 - THE FIRST TRAP
Rebecca’s answer was immediate.
“No.”
I looked up from the message.
“They have my father.”
“Which means you absolutely do not go alone.”
“They’ll kill him.”
“They may kill you too.”
Samuel was already contacting police.
I grabbed his wrist.
“No uniforms.”
He looked at me.
“Clara.”
“They’ll see them.”
“Then federal.”
“No.”
Rebecca stepped closer.
“You are not negotiating this by yourself.”
“I’m not.”
I showed them the photograph.
Behind my father was a concrete wall.
Metal shelving.
A red industrial valve.
Samuel studied it.
“Warehouse.”
“Could be.”
I zoomed in.
Something appeared in the corner.
A yellow safety sign.
Partially visible.
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL—
Underneath it was a blue logo.
I knew that logo.
Pacific Meridian.
“This is ours.”
Samuel looked at me.
“What?”
“Warehouse branding.”
“Where?”
“We have three facilities in the region.”
Rebecca opened her laptop.
“One closest?”
“Riverton Industrial Park.”
Police quietly surrounded the site.
I didn’t go inside.
For once, I listened.
The warehouse was empty.
No father.
No kidnappers.
Only a chair.
Rope.
Fake blood.
And a large photograph of Arthur taped to the wall.
The picture they sent me had been staged.
My father hadn’t been there.
Maybe he had never been kidnapped.
A laptop sat on the floor.
Rebecca stopped police from touching it until digital forensics arrived.
It contained one file.
A video.
Dominic appeared on screen.
“Hello, Clara.”
My hands clenched.
“If you’re watching this, you ignored instructions.”
He smiled.
“I knew you would.”
His face looked tired but composed.
“I’m going to give you one opportunity to stop this.”
Rebecca whispered, “He’s incriminating himself.”
Dominic continued.
“Withdraw the emergency custody petition.”
I laughed.
“Never.”
Obviously he couldn’t hear me.
“Transfer Pacific Meridian to Sterling Global.”
He leaned closer.
“And stop asking questions about Arthur.”
My stomach tightened.
“Because if you don’t, things will become very complicated.”
The video ended.
No threat.
Not technically.
Dominic was still trying to control the narrative.
Then another file appeared automatically.
A timer.
00:59:59.
One hour.
Below it:
UPLOAD SIGNED TRANSFER DOCUMENTS.
Samuel said, “Ignore it.”
“I plan to.”
At thirty minutes, nothing happened.
At ten minutes, nothing.
When the timer reached zero, the screen went black.
Then an email arrived on my phone.
Subject:
SINGAPORE FRAUD INVESTIGATION.
I opened it.
A major financial newspaper had received anonymous documents accusing me of bribing foreign officials during the Singapore expansion.
My name.
My photograph.
Bank transfers.
Emails.
All forged.
Rebecca swore.
“He’s trying to destroy your credibility.”
Within twenty minutes, journalists began calling.
By midnight, business websites were publishing headlines.
STERLING EXECUTIVE LINKED TO ASIA BRIBERY SCHEME.
EXECUTIVE WIFE AT CENTER OF INTERNATIONAL FRAUD ALLEGATIONS.
The timing was perfect.
Dominic didn’t need to win legally.
He needed me toxic enough that no board would support me.
No court would trust me.
No regulator would believe me.
Then Brooke appeared on television.
I watched from the hospital family room.
She stood outside an attorney’s office.
Perfect hair.
Cream coat.
Tears in her eyes.
“I’m deeply concerned for Dominic.”
A reporter asked if she knew where he was.
“No.”
Another shouted, “Did Clara Sterling threaten him?”
Brooke looked down.
“I don’t want to make accusations.”
That phrase guaranteed an accusation was coming.
“But Clara has been under extreme stress for a long time.”
Rebecca stared at the screen.
“She’s building the mental instability narrative.”
Brooke continued.
“Dominic and I became close because he was struggling at home. He loved his son. He tried everything.”
I almost threw the remote.
“He loved Leo?”
Rebecca took it from me.
“Keep watching.”
Brooke dabbed her eyes.
“Leo was difficult. Sometimes violent.”
My hands shook.
“He’s four.”
“She knows.”
Then came the lie.
“I personally witnessed Clara encourage harsh discipline during video calls.”
I stood.
“What?”
“She’s lying.”
“I know.”
“She says I told them to hurt him.”
“I know.”
A reporter asked whether Brooke had proof.
She nodded.
“We have messages.”
My stomach dropped.
Messages.
Within an hour, screenshots appeared online.
Texts supposedly from me.
If he bites again, put him somewhere alone until he learns.
Don’t reward crying.
He needs discipline.
Victoria knows what to do.
They looked authentic.
Same profile photo.
Same phone number.
Same formatting.
But I had never written them.
Rebecca studied the screenshots.
“Can we prove they’re fake?”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually won’t stop tonight’s headlines.”
She was right.
Social media exploded.
Some defended me.
Others called me a monster.
A hypocrite.
A mother who had abandoned her child and now blamed everyone else.
I looked through the hospital window at Leo sleeping.
This was Dominic’s strategy.
Make truth so messy that nobody knew whom to believe.
Then a message came from an unexpected person.
Maria.
The housekeeper.
I AM SORRY.
I called immediately.
“Maria?”
She was crying.
“Mrs. Sterling.”
“Where are you?”
“My sister’s house.”
“Are you safe?”
“I think.”
“What happened?”
Long silence.
Then:
“I have something.”
“What?”
“The phone.”
“What phone?”
“Mrs. Victoria’s old phone.”
My pulse jumped.
“She threw it away two months ago. She told me to destroy it.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
Maria began crying harder.
“Because I knew one day you would come home.”
My eyes closed.
“Maria.”
“There are messages.”
“What kind?”
“About Leo.”
I gripped the phone.
“And you.”
“What about me?”
Maria whispered.
“They planned everything before you even left for Singapore.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“What do you mean?”
She took a shaky breath.
“Mrs. Victoria said sending you overseas was the only way to get you away from your son.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“They didn’t take advantage of my absence?”
“No.”
“They created it?”
“Yes.”
I sat down slowly.
“Why?”
Maria’s answer changed everything.
“Because Mr. Dominic discovered Leo wasn’t the child he needed.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“But I heard them arguing.”
“About what?”
“Something called the Sterling Trust succession clause.”
Rebecca looked up sharply.
I repeated the phrase.
She went pale.
“Clara.”
“What?”
“I know what that is.”
She opened an old trust document on her computer.
My father’s trust.
Forty-three pages.
Near the end was a provision I had never read carefully.
Upon the birth of Clara Sterling’s first biological child, controlling trust assets pass into a protected generational structure.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca read further.
Then she whispered,
“Leo owns the controlling trust interest.”
My mouth went dry.
“How much?”
She looked at me.
“Potentially everything.”
Suddenly it was not about me.
It had never truly been about me.
Dominic hadn’t needed Leo because he loved him.
He needed control of what Leo inherited.
And if I was declared incompetent—
Dominic could become guardian of Leo’s financial estate.
My blood turned cold.
Rebecca looked at me.
“This may be why your father disappeared.”
I shook my head.
Then Maria spoke again through the phone.
“There’s more.”
I swallowed.
“What?”
“I heard Mrs. Victoria say they needed another child.”
My eyes shifted toward the television screen where Brooke was still speaking to reporters.
“Liam.”
“Yes.”
May you like
Maria whispered the words that made my entire body go numb.
“She said once Liam was legally recognized as Dominic’s son, they could replace Leo.”
