When our daughter was one month old, my husband Julian's enemies kidnapped her. They demanded ten million dollars. Julian told me the business was struggling, that he couldn't get the cash. Then he turned around and bought a twenty-million-dollar diamond necklace for his old flame, Isabelle Reed. I was hollowed out, ready to die. That's when Julian's arch-nemesis, Marcus Thorne, found me. He showed up with a blank check. He said if I divorced Julian and married him, he'd pay the ransom. I signed the papers without a second thought. Marcus, insisting on handling it himself, hired a private security team and brought my daughter back. I was convinced he was my savior. But when our daughter, Mia, was five, I saw him at the park. He was pointing to Isabelle, telling Mia, "Go give Mommy a hug." "Marcus," Isabelle said, "you've sacrificed so much for me and Mia. You shouldn't have had to marry Seraphina—that damaged goods—and get blood on your hands." "As long as you're happy in the Vance family, I'm happy," he replied. "Just be careful. If Seraphina ever finds out her real daughter died five years ago, she'll have a psychotic break." My rescuer wasn't a savior. He was the man who'd murdered my child. Watching the three of them—Marcus, Isabelle, and Mia—laughing together like a perfect family, I calmly pulled out my phone and dialed the number for the kidnappers. "I've got a thirty-million-dollar job for you. Are you in?" 1 At the amusement park, Marcus watched Mia and Isabelle, his eyes soft with adoration. He was so lost in the moment, he didn't see me standing just a few yards behind him. His assistant walked up. "Mr. Thorne, tomorrow is the anniversary of your wife's daughter's death. Will you be attending the memorial?" Marcus's gaze didn't waver. "Yes. It was an accident, but I'm still the reason Seraphina's daughter is dead. At least Isabelle is finally married to Julian." The assistant glanced at Isabelle, who was posing for a selfie. "Ms. Reed only has eyes for Julian Vance. She even had his child. Why are you making this sacrifice, sir? You're raising your rival's daughter." "If this ever gets out, it won't just be you. The entire Thorne family will be ruined." Marcus finally looked away. "It won't get out. Seraphina didn't even recognize the swap five years ago. Now that she's raised Mia herself? She'll never suspect a thing." The assistant was quiet. "But... your wife, sir. She's a good person. She loves you. It's not fair to deceive her like this." Marcus laughed, a cold, sharp sound. "Love? Nothing's fair in love. I never asked her to love me." "And if she does find out and makes a scene? I'll just give her another kid." I felt the world drop out from under me. Just then, Mia spotted me. She turned and waved, her voice bright. "Mommy! Come play with us!" Everyone turned. I tried to duck back, lost my footing, and fell backward into the decorative fountain. The water was deep enough to hide me. It was freezing, but I didn't dare move. Isabelle, her good mood ruined, threw her cotton candy on the ground. "What are you yelling for? Your real mom is right here." Mia looked terrified and burst into tears. "You're a bad lady! You're not my mom!" Marcus, who always doted on Mia, suddenly looked stern. "Mia. Apologize to your mother. Now." Mia only cried harder. My heart ached; my first instinct was to run and grab her. But his words echoed in my head. That's not my daughter. My daughter is dead. My baby was only a month old. And this man, Marcus, had fed her to the wolves, all for Isabelle. His "heroic" rescue was just a show. A performance to cover the swap. And I... I had called him my savior. I'd gratefully raised another woman's child for him. No wonder his assistant always looked at me with such pity. I must be the biggest fool alive. Mia was hysterical. Marcus couldn't calm her down and finally just picked her up to leave. Only then did I pull myself out of the fountain, my clothes soaked. The wind cut through me, but I couldn't feel the cold. When I stumbled back into the villa, Marcus saw me and rushed over, pulling me into a tight hug. He was yelling for the staff, trying to warm me with his own body. "Seraphina, my god, what happened to you?" "I went to the park," I said, my voice numb. "I was looking for you and Mia. I fell in the fountain." His body went rigid. It took him a long moment to force the panic from his face. "I told you not to come. You're with Mia all week. You deserve a day off." For five years, he had taken Mia "out" one day a week so I could "rest." I'd thought it was so sweet, that he was bonding with her. He was taking her to bond with Isabelle. My entire five years. A lie. 2 "Seraphina," he asked, his voice suddenly cautious. "Did you... see anything at the park?" I looked down. "If I'd seen you, I wouldn't have been so clumsy." He let out the breath he was holding. He wrapped a blanket around me and held a cup of hot tea to my lips. This careful, perfect devotion. The maids were all watching, their eyes filled with envy. But I was freezing from the inside out. He's so good at this. Such a perfect performance. He carried me upstairs. Mia ran out of her room, holding a wooden box. "Daddy! Is this the box of love letters you wrote for Mommy?" I instinctively reached for it. Marcus slapped my hand away—hard—and snatched the box, clutching it to his chest. My hand instantly turned red. Mia, seeing it, burst into tears and started pounding on Marcus with her little fists. "You hit Mommy! You're a bad daddy!" Marcus looked embarrassed. "This isn't mine," he stammered. "It's... something I'm holding for a friend." Before I could reply, his phone rang. A special ringtone. Mia cried harder. "It's the bad la—" Marcus clapped his hand over her mouth, motioning for the nanny to drag her away. He turned to me, his face a mask of apology. "I have to take this. An emergency." He locked the wooden box in his office safe. The password was pathetically easy. Even Mia knew it. "It's the bad lady's birthday." The box wasn't full of letters. It was full of photos of Isabelle, from childhood to now. They were childhood sweethearts. The safe also held copies of several trust funds. The beneficiary, on all of them, was Isabelle Reed. The total was in the hundreds of millions. The date they were signed? The day before he "rescued" me. At the very bottom was an envelope. A photo of Isabelle, holding a newborn. On the back, in Marcus's handwriting: Today, I finally get to be a father! The exclamation point was so full of joy. The date on the photo? The day my daughter was kidnapped. A sharp pain shot through my chest. I dug my nails into my arms until I drew blood, just to keep from screaming. I stayed there until my legs were completely numb. I picked up my phone and sent a text. Tomorrow. The docks. A thirty-million-dollar deal. I was sure Marcus would be willing to pay that to protect Isabelle. And once I was in international waters, I would disappear. Five years of my life, Marcus. I'll use your own script to say goodbye. 3 Marcus didn't come home until morning. His first move wasn't to check if I had a fever. It was to go to his office and check the safe. I watched him go and let out a cold laugh. So much for not caring if I found out. A few hours later, the police showed up. They confirmed that the flagged international number that had called me was not a scam, and then they left. Marcus was confused. "Seraphina, those are flagged numbers for a reason. They belong to criminals. Why are you talking to them?" I was trying to think of a lie when he pulled me into a hug. "It's okay. Whatever you need, you can just tell me. You don't have to get involved with people like that. They're animals." This bottomless, unconditional support. It made me sick. He knew exactly what they were. For Isabelle, he'd sent them after my baby. I forced myself to lean into him. "Marcus, you're so good to me." He brought out some liniment and gently rubbed the bruise on my hand. "I drove out to the countryside to get this from an old herbalist." I looked at the label. "Made in L.A." I didn't bother correcting him. Isabelle's "I miss you" texts had been accidentally forwarded to my phone all night. He finished with my hand and brought out a small pastry box. "From that hotel you love." It was strawberry cheesecake. My favorite. That hotel only gives pastries to registered guests. So, they'd stayed in my long-standing suite. The box was supposed to have four mini-cheesecakes. There were only two. Isabelle knew I'd notice. She was telling me I only deserved her leftovers. The cake. The man. I pushed the box away. "I'm not hungry." Marcus immediately went into a panic, calling the family doctor to check me from head to toe. When the doctor confirmed I was fine, he finally relaxed. "Seraphina, you rest. I'll go make you some soup." The second he was gone, I threw the cake in the trash. Moments later, I heard a commotion downstairs. I looked out the window. Isabelle. Looking terrified, running up the walk. She threw herself into Marcus's arms. He froze, glancing up at my window, but his arms automatically wrapped around her. I couldn't hear what she said, but his face twisted in rage. A minute later, my bedroom door slammed open. Marcus slapped me. "What were you thinking?" he roared. "Contacting an offshore hitman to kidnap Isabelle?" "Just because Julian wouldn't pay your ransom doesn't mean it was her fault!" "If I'd known you were this vindictive, I never would have married you!" I stumbled backward, crashing into a vase. It shattered, and I fell into the shards. Over his shoulder, I saw Isabelle in the doorway, a smirk of pure triumph on her face. I remembered. Her brother was a cop. She must have seen the report about the international call. She had Julian. Now she wanted Marcus back, too. Marcus was still yelling, demanding I apologize. All that fake love, now stripped bare. I didn't argue. I just stood up, pulled out my phone, and dialed the "flagged" number. "Hey, cuz!" a cheerful voice answered. "What's up? Need something?" It was Marcus's youngest cousin, who was studying in London. Both their faces went white. I hung up. "It's just an overseas call. What are you two so afraid of?" "Or... do those kidnappers also do murder-for-hire? You two seem to know a lot about their services." Marcus stammered. "I... I just heard... from the security team. When I rescued you." I touched my cheek. "Then I deserve an apology from Ms. Reed." Marcus immediately stepped in front of Isabelle. "Seraphina, she's been through a lot. Don't be unreasonable." "I'll buy you a new purse tomorrow. Just drop it." I was bleeding. Glass was embedded in my back and arms. This was the man who used to panic if I got a paper cut. He wasn't even looking at my injuries. I was about to laugh when Isabelle burst into tears. "Marcus! She hates me because I married Julian! This was all a setup!" "It's fine! If it makes her feel better, I'll kneel! I'll beg her forgiveness!" She started to bend her knees, then grabbed her stomach and groaned. "Oh... no... the baby..." Marcus scooped her up, shot me a look of pure hatred, and ran out. I don't know how long I stood there. Finally, the housekeeper, Maria, came in. "Mrs. Thorne! My god, you're bleeding everywhere!" The pain finally registered. Maria rushed to call Marcus. I stopped her. "Don't. He knows." He knew Isabelle was lying. And he chose her anyway. Just like five years ago. Fine. Marcus, I'll give you exactly what you want. I'll disappear. 4 The doctor came, but halfway through picking the glass out of my back, Marcus called him. "Mr. Thorne, I'm not an obstetrician..." the doctor pleaded. I could hear Marcus roaring through the phone. I told the doctor to go. I'd finish it myself. Maria helped me pull the last of the shards out. By the time I was bandaged, all the household security was gone. They'd taken Mia with them, but left me behind. My personal driver, a young guy named Leo, was the last to leave. "Ma'am, the security system is active. Please, don't go outside." I watched two dozen armed guards leave for the hospital. Then I opened my encrypted texts. "We're in position. Same dock?" "Come to the house." I replied, then deleted the thread. Marcus had hired them, then tried to have them all "cleaned up" to hide the evidence. During the firefight, my daughter was killed. The new leader of the Kraken Syndicate was the old leader's illegitimate son. He was very, very motivated. Isabelle texted me a picture from the hospital. Marcus was feeding her soup. The hallway outside her door was lined with guards. [How's it feel to be abandoned again? I told Marcus I didn't feel safe if you were around. He said he'd use you as bait to draw them out. Enjoy.] I ignored it. I called Marcus. He declined the call. A minute later, a text. [Be good. Stay home. I'll be back when this is over.] Not a word about pulling the security. A few minutes later, the Kraken team breached the perimeter. The alarms blared. I knew the system sent alerts to his phone. Still, silence. I smiled, dropped a lit match into the gasoline I'd poured, and walked out the back. "Let's go." The new leader stopped me. "What about the girl?" I handed him the DNA report. "Mail this to Marcus. He'll pay you thirty million in hush money." "This is also why he had your father's team ambushed. Use it well." "Oh, and Isabelle also put out a hit on me. Send her a body. She'll pay, too. That's... what? Forty million?" They put me on the boat. Only when I was on the open ocean did Marcus finally text back. [Seraphina, stop playing games. Turn off the alarm. I'm coming home.] Hilarious. He hadn't even checked the alert. He just assumed I was throwing a tantrum. It didn't matter. The villa was now an inferno. And the blackmail demand was on its way. I threw my phone into the sea.
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