My son and I were kidnapped. The kidnappers live-streamed our ordeal online, threatening to chop my son into pieces and feed him to the dogs if the ransom wasn't paid. Instantly, the entire internet was searching for my husband. But what they didn't know was that at that exact moment, trending on social media, the billionaire CEO officially announcing his relationship with an award-winning actress—the picture of a happy family of three—was my husband. My son's father. The two trending topics side-by-side were a hilariously cruel joke. Later, out of a twisted sense of pity, the kidnappers only took one of my son's hands. Dragging his severed left arm, he crawled all the way back home, only to run straight into my husband celebrating the birthday of his 'first love's' child. My husband frowned, looking down at my son's curled-up, bleeding body with freezing, emotionless eyes. "You really are Mia's kid. Just like your mother, all you know how to do is play the victim." My son looked up, using his only remaining hand to tug weakly at my husband's pant leg. "Mister... can you please lend me some money... so I can bury my mom?" 1 Twenty-three hours into our agonizing torture at the hands of the kidnappers. Arthur Sterling, the wealthiest man in the city, was currently celebrating the sixth birthday of his first love's child. I had dialed his number eighty-eight times. Every single time, it went straight to voicemail. The kidnapper, furious and impatient, grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the concrete floor to my son, his face contorted with rage. "Isn't Arthur Sterling your husband?! Why the hell won't he answer his phone?!" "Are you intentionally dialing the wrong number just to stall for time?!" He viciously yanked a handful of hair straight from my scalp. The agonizing pain twisted my face into a grimace. Tossing the bloody clump of hair onto the floor, the kidnapper sneered, spat directly in my face, and threatened: "I am giving you one last chance. If that phone doesn't connect this time, don't blame me for getting creative." He pointed a finger at my son, who was pale and trembling with terror, making it horrifyingly clear what would happen next. The next victim would be my six-year-old baby. The excruciating pain made my entire body shake uncontrollably, but I didn't dare fight back. I had to protect my child. With trembling hands, I dialed Arthur's number for the eighty-ninth time. Ring... Ring... "Hello?" Arthur's deep, magnetic voice finally came through the speaker. The moment I heard his voice, tears instantly flooded my eyes. A chaotic mix of overwhelming relief and paralyzing terror made me blurt out frantically: "Arthur, please, we've been kidnapped, you have to—" Before I could even finish the sentence, the man on the other end cut me off with obvious, dripping disgust: "Enough, Mia. I don't care what pathetic act you're pulling this time, but leave Leo out of it!" "If you have even a shred of conscience left, stop using your son as a prop to get my attention." With that, he hung up without a second's hesitation. The kidnapper's expression darkened, his predatory gaze locking onto my son. Ignoring my own despair, I immediately redialed the number, terrified that even a second's delay would cost my son his life. The call connected again. I sobbed, begging him: "Arthur, I'm not lying! We really were kidnapped! I'm begging you, please save our baby!" The line was dead silent for two agonizing seconds before Arthur's freezing, bone-chilling voice echoed through the speaker: "Then I'll just wait until you're both dead, and I'll come collect the bodies." Click. Arthur turned his phone off entirely. Simultaneously, my phone received a video message from Chloe Sinclair. In the video, Arthur, wearing a bespoke suit, was holding Chloe's son, speaking eloquently to a crowd of reporters. "Yes, that's right. This is Chloe's and my child." "Due to some unfortunate misunderstandings in the past, Chloe and I were forced apart. Now, we've decided to get back together." "From now on, I will be a dedicated father, taking perfect care of Chloe and Toby." Chloe stood beside him, smiling radiantly, the picture of absolute bliss. Attached to the video was a digital wedding invitation. [Mia, you and Leo are cordially invited to attend our wedding on the 5th of next month.] [We'd also love it if Leo could be our ring bearer.] It felt like someone was physically shredding my heart into pieces. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. Through my haze of agony, my son suddenly screamed. "Mommy!" The kidnapper, having lost all patience, hauled my son off the floor by his neck, lifting him entirely off the ground. "You little brat. Turns out you're completely useless after all!" My son's face rapidly turned a sickening shade of purple as his tiny hands beat uselessly against the kidnapper's massive grip. "M-mommy..." A blinding, primal rage overpowered my terror. I screamed and lunged forward, desperate to tear my son from his grasp. Before I could even reach him, another kidnapper tackled me, pinning me to the ground and delivering several brutal punches to my face. "You stupid bitch! You still want to fight?!" As he spoke, he grabbed a thick, rusted steel rebar from the floor and forced it violently into my mouth, twisting and jamming it repeatedly. The coarse, jagged metal ripped through my gums and tongue, filling my mouth with a thick, choking foam of blood. The agony was so absolute I could only make muffled, guttural noises. It wasn't until he had fully exhausted his rage that the kidnapper finally dropped my son back onto the concrete. He ordered his accomplice to open a live-streaming app on his phone. "Since he doesn't believe the phone calls, we'll just livestream a little child abuse." "I refuse to believe Arthur Sterling is actually that cold-blooded. There's no way he just abandons his own flesh and blood." 2 The kidnapper's livestream of my son being tortured hit the trending charts at the exact same moment Arthur's public relationship announcement did. In front of the flashing cameras, Arthur affectionately placed Chloe's son on his shoulders, smiling at the reporters: "Alright, that concludes today's interview. Chloe and I need to go celebrate our son's birthday now." Chloe playfully swatted his arm, her voice dripping with affection. "Arthur is always like this. He's always been such an incredible father." Meanwhile, in the filthy warehouse, the kidnapper shoved my son into a burlap sack, kicking and beating him like a literal punching bag. I was tied securely to a chair, forced to watch this horrific scene unfold with my own eyes. My son's initial, agonizing screams slowly faded into weak, pathetic whimpers, like a dying kitten. The live chat was scrolling at a frantic pace: [I can't watch this! The kid sounds like he's dying!] [Didn't they say if the dad just gets on a call, they'll let the kid go?! Where the hell is the dad?!] [Can anyone please contact the father?! Save that poor baby!] The kidnapper dragged my son out of the bloody sack, his eyes filled with malicious intent. "You little brat. Looks like your dad really can hold out. Even after all this, he still won't show his face." "Fine. Don't blame me for what happens next." He picked up the heavy steel rebar from the floor and took a step toward my son. "I'll give you something to cry about!" My eyes widened in absolute, paralyzing horror. Dragging the heavy chair with me, I threw myself to the floor, kowtowing frantically until my forehead bled. "Please! I'm begging you, don't hurt my baby! I'm not afraid of pain, do whatever you want to me! Just let him go, please!" My forehead slammed against the concrete over and over, quickly pooling blood on the floor. My son slowly opened his eyes, looking at me and weakly shaking his head. "No, Mommy... Leo doesn't hurt... Leo doesn't hurt at all." His tiny voice pierced my chest like a jagged knife. But I couldn't show fear. He was only six years old. His life had barely even begun. Tears and blood streamed down my face as I offered him the same gentle, reassuring smile I always did. "Leo, Mommy is a grown-up. Grown-ups don't feel pain." My son looked at me, his eyes full of innocent confusion, and kept shaking his head. The kidnapper lost whatever shred of patience he had left. He raised the rebar high and marched toward my son. "You little shit, I'll shut you up!" In a split second of pure adrenaline, I lunged forward with everything I had, violently shoving my son out of the way. The heavy steel rebar came crashing down, driving straight through my body. The unimaginable trauma caused my body to convulse uncontrollably, but I fought with every ounce of my being not to scare my child. Even after the kidnapper violently wrenched the rebar free, I desperately maintained the smile on my face. I wanted to tell my child not to be afraid. I wanted to tell him how incredibly much I loved him. But as the blood filled my throat, all I could manage was: "Leo, don't cry. Mommy doesn't hurt." In the final moments before death took me, a chaotic montage of memories flashed through my mind. I remembered our wedding day. Arthur's hands were shaking so violently from nerves that it took him several tries just to slide the ring onto my finger. I remembered the day I found out I was pregnant. Arthur's eyes were bright red as he asked me, "Am I really going to be a dad?" I remembered Leo's fifth birthday, and the massive, extravagant party Arthur threw for him. But those memories were quickly replaced by Chloe's endless, calculated sabotage against me and my son after her divorce. I remembered Arthur's initial doubt, shifting to deep disappointment, and finally settling into freezing, absolute apathy. As my vision blurred, I heard my son's voice. He was saying: "Mommy, don't go to sleep! Leo will be good! Leo will be so good and listen to everything you say!" "Mommy, please don't sleep!" I summoned the absolute last fragment of my fading strength, trying to lift my hand to stroke his hair. But all I felt was hot, sticky blood. I'm so sorry. Mommy failed to protect you. I'm so sorry, Leo. My consciousness plummeted into absolute, eternal darkness. My son reached out with his tiny hands, desperately trying to stem the massive flow of blood pouring from my body. But it was entirely useless. The live chat completely lost its mind, scrolling so fast it was a blur: [You goddamn monsters! Where the hell are the cops?! Someone save them!] [WHERE IS THE DAD?! How can he still not be here?!] [Does anyone know who this kid is?! Please help them, I'm literally begging!] ... The kidnappers panicked. One of them turned to the other, his voice tight: "What do we do?! The bitch is dead!" The other kidnapper narrowed his eyes, his voice sending chills down the spine: "It doesn't matter. We still have the little one. We can still get the ransom." He violently ripped my son away from my body and shoved him directly in front of the camera lens. Revealing his tiny face, completely covered in dark, horrific bruises. "Look closely, everyone! This kid's father is the CEO of Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling!" The frantic scrolling of the live chat froze for a fraction of a second. Then it absolutely exploded. [How is that possible?! Didn't CEO Sterling literally just announce his relationship with that actress?!] [Yeah! They do have a kid, but isn't his name Toby?!] [Are these kidnappers psychotic?! Who tries to extort Arthur Sterling?!] [Exactly! They must have kidnapped the wrong people!] Amidst the chaotic speculation, a user suddenly dropped a bombshell. [I'm at the press conference right now! I just saw CEO Sterling check his phone!] [Just hold on a second! CEO Sterling definitely saw the news, he'll be here any minute!] As soon as that message appeared, a massive, bolded comment was pinned to the top of the chat, instantly grabbing the kidnappers' attention. [CONNECT WITH ME! I AM ARTHUR STERLING!] My son didn't know how to read many words, but he knew the name "Arthur Sterling" meant "Daddy." His dim eyes suddenly lit up with a desperate, fragile hope. "Daddy..." 3 The connection went live, but the face on the screen wasn't Arthur's. The kidnapper's expression instantly darkened. He brutally pinned my son to the concrete floor, raising a meat cleaver, fully intending to sever his left arm. The man on the screen frantically shouted: [WAIT! Don't do anything crazy! I am CEO Sterling's personal executive assistant!] [I'm just calling to tell you that you've kidnapped the wrong people! Everyone at the company knows our CEO has always maintained an impeccable personal life. He absolutely does not have a child!] [The only child he acknowledges is Ms. Sinclair's son, Toby! Please, do not hurt an innocent child!] The kidnapper let out a harsh, cynical scoff. He pressed the cold steel of the cleaver against my son's neck, his voice dripping with venom: "I am giving you exactly ten minutes to put Arthur Sterling on this call, or I am going to use this kid's head for target practice!" With no other options, the assistant immediately dialed Arthur's private number. "Hello? Who are you looking for?" A young, innocent voice answered the phone, radiating pure, untainted joy. The next second, an incredibly fond, indulgent male voice drifted through the speaker. "Toby, the paper airplanes are done! Come here, Papa Arthur will play with you." The boy gave a happy cheer and laughed brightly. "Okay! Papa Arthur, someone is on the phone for you." Arthur took the phone, his tone instantly shifting to deep annoyance: "What is it? Didn't I explicitly tell you that today is Toby's birthday and I am not to be disturbed under any circumstances?" The assistant hesitated for a second before blurting out: "Mr. Sterling, do you... do you have another son named Leo? He's..." "ENOUGH!" Arthur furiously cut the assistant off: "I have no idea how much Mia paid you to do this, but I am warning you right now: stop using children as pawns in her pathetic, desperate games!" "As of right now, I only have one son, and his name is Toby." "Do not ever mention those people to me again!" With that, the line went dead. His voice had echoed clearly throughout the entire warehouse broadcast, instantly extinguishing the last, fragile spark of hope in my son's eyes. He might not fully understand what "pawns" meant, but he understood with absolute, agonizing clarity that his father had just abandoned him. My son muttered the words softly to himself, his heart turning entirely to ash as he closed his eyes. In that moment, he completely stopped fighting. The livestream was abruptly terminated by the platform for graphic violence. Humiliated and enraged, the kidnapper raised the meat cleaver, fully intending to bring it down on my son's neck, but his accomplice stopped him. He looked down at my son's battered, bruised face and suggested: "Look, since Arthur Sterling refuses to acknowledge him, this kid is completely useless to us anyway." "Just chop off one of his arms and dump him at Sterling's mansion." "Since he clearly misses his mommy so much, let's give him a chance to bury her." The kidnapper sneered, shifting the heavy cleaver to hover directly over my son's left arm. The blade came crashing down. My son's agonizing, blood-curdling scream echoed through the massive, empty warehouse. Miles away, while helping Toby cut his birthday cake, Arthur's heart suddenly seized with a violent, inexplicable palpitation. 4 When he woke up again, missing an arm, my son had already been dumped in front of Arthur's sprawling, multi-million-dollar estate. In the massive courtyard, a gigantic, custom-built toy castle dominated the lawn. Arthur and Chloe were happily playing games with Toby. The continuous sound of bright, echoing laughter drifted over the walls, slowly dragging my son back to consciousness. He agonizingly forced himself to roll over. He stared blankly through the wrought-iron gates at the picture-perfect, happy family, tears welling in his eyes. Then, he remembered what the kidnapper had said. I have to bury Mommy... Yes. I have to bury Mommy. Even though he didn't fully comprehend the horrific permanence of death, his primal instincts told him this was the most important thing in the world. Ignoring the excruciating, blinding agony radiating from his severed shoulder, he used his only remaining hand to drag his body across the rough pavement. Inch by agonizing inch, he dragged himself toward the massive front gates of the estate. The sharp gravel tore at his palm, and dirt ground itself deep into his open, bleeding wounds. Every single inch he moved was an absolute, torturous hell. This was a child who used to run to me and cry over a scraped knee. Now, he simply let out a few weak, silent sobs before gritting his teeth and continuing to drag himself forward. He stared at the imposing gates slowly drawing closer, muttering to himself like a mantra: "Leo doesn't hurt... Leo doesn't hurt at all... I have to bury Mommy..." When his small, bloodied hand finally grasped the cold metal of the gate, he let out a massive sigh of relief. He forced his head up and used the absolute last shred of his energy to call out: "Daddy!" Hearing the voice, Arthur instinctively whipped his head around. Seeing the tiny, curled-up body lying just outside the gates, his expression froze, a flash of genuine, instinctual heartache crossing his eyes. Just as he took a step toward the gate, Chloe immediately intercepted him. "Arthur, is that Leo? Why is he here? Didn't Mia say they were kidnapped?" Chloe's expression twisted into a vicious sneer, though her voice remained sickeningly gentle. "But I guess it makes sense. Mia has always been incredibly jealous of how well you treat me and Toby. It's completely in character for her to try and ruin Toby's birthday." "I just feel so incredibly sorry for Leo, being used as a pawn at such a young age." Hearing Chloe's words, the sudden softening in Arthur's heart instantly hardened into ice. He stared at his son from a distance, his voice dripping with freezing, absolute apathy: "What? Your mom realized I wasn't answering the phone, so she sent you here to play the victim?!" "I am utterly humiliated to have a son like you. From now on, unless I explicitly give you permission, you are strictly forbidden from calling me 'Daddy.'" "I am going to count to three. You better get off the ground right now, or I promise you, you will deeply regret it!" My son's pale, bloodless lips moved. He desperately wanted to explain, but the unimaginable pain had entirely drained his strength. Seeing that the boy still refused to move, an explosive rage ignited in Arthur's chest. He turned around, snatched a heavy, die-cast toy airplane off the grass, and hurled it violently at my son. "I told you to get up! Stop putting on this pathetic act!" The heavy metal toy crashed brutally into my son's forehead with a sickening thud. Blood instantly began pouring from the wound, dripping into his eyes, dyeing his entire world crimson. He desperately wanted to tell his dad that he wasn't acting. That he was in agonizing, unspeakable pain. But he literally didn't have the strength to make a sound. Seeing his son still lying completely motionless, Arthur completely lost his mind. He aggressively shook off Chloe's hand and marched furiously toward the gate: "Are you really going to stubbornly defy me?! Do you honestly believe I won't—" Before he could finish the threat, his phone began ringing with a piercing, urgent tone. "Hello? Am I speaking to Mr. Arthur Sterling? We received multiple emergency reports. Your child was subjected to a live-streamed torture session by kidnappers earlier today. Your wife was killed on the scene." "We urgently request that you come down to the station immediately to assist with our investigation." Clatter. The phone slipped from Arthur's hand, hitting the pavement. He finally noticed the massive, horrific amount of blood soaking his son's clothes. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot. My son had finally gathered enough strength. He forced his head up, using his only remaining hand to weakly tug at Arthur's pant leg: "Mister... can you please lend me some money... so I can bury my mommy?"
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