(Nick)“Let’s move to the living room,” I said, helping Lila into her wheelchair. She’d insisted on getting out of bed for this conversation, despite my protests.Thompson brought extra chairs as everyone settled in. James curled up next to Lila on the couch while Ethan paced by the windows. Alexander hadn’t moved from Romy’s side since they arrived.“Start from the beginning,” my father demanded, gulping down all his scotch. “What about Grace?”Romy sat perched on the edge of an armchair, her hands clasped tight in her lap. “I met Grace when we were both modeling. She was eighteen, already dating Ethan. I was with Alexander.”Her eyes swept to him before dropping back to her hands. “At first, she seemed sweet. Vulnerable. But there were…incidents.”“What kind of incidents?” Ethan stopped pacing. Romy twisted her hands like she used to do with her wedding ring, but she was no longer wearing it.“Little things at first. A model would get sick before a big shoot that Grace wanted. Someo
(Grace)I lay on my satin sheets in the luxury rehab suite, staring at the ceiling as I waited for the evening group therapy to begin. My silk robe swished as I shifted.Anyone would think I had wandered into rehab straight from a five-star hotel!A knock on my door. “Ms. Williams? Group starts in five minutes.”“Coming,” I called, dabbing concealer under my eyes. Just enough to look tired but dignified. Broken but beautiful.The therapy room smelled like coffee, and nothing says rock bottom like bad coffee and broken dreams. I settled into my usual armchair, arranging my robe just so.A new patient—some washed-up actress—openly stared at my Cartier bracelet.“Grace, would you like to start?” Dr. Sanders smiled encouragingly. “You mentioned wanting to discuss your progress.”I pulled out a tissue from my purse, letting my hand shake just so. “I just…I miss my son so much. Every day without him feels like torture.”“Tell us more about that pain.”“James is my whole world.” I twisted th
(Lila)I watched Alexander and Romy gather their coats after the intense family dinner. The discovery of Maxwell’s surveillance cameras had everyone moving quickly, casting wary glances at the corners of rooms.But who’d put them there?Romy’s phone chimed—a sharp sound in the tense quiet. She pulled it out, reading something on the screen. Her fingers started trembling so badly she nearly dropped the phone. All the blood drained from her face.“Romy?” Alexander grabbed her waist as she stumbled. “What is it?”She shook her head, shoving the phone into her pocket. Alexander bent down, whispering something in her ear that made her grab his arm hard enough that her fingers went white.“We need to leave,” he muttered, already steering her toward the elevator. “Now.”“Wait.” My mother’s voice stopped them. “Nick, Lila—a moment please?”Nick helped me adjust on the couch as everyone else filed out. My back ached from sitting up so long, the baby kicking restlessly, but I needed to hear wha
(Nick)The scotch burned going down, but not as much as the memories playing on my laptop screen. I hadn’t touched this video in years, and now Maxwell had somehow gotten his hands on it.The flames licked higher in the grainy footage, spreading fast on a deck slick with blood.I remembered every detail. Every scream. Every desperate moment.My phone beeped. Another text from Maxwell.“Tick tock, Nicholas. How long before everyone knows the truth?”I downed another glass, watching the video loop again. Younger me, standing amid chaos. Smoke billowing. Bodies scattered across the yacht’s deck. The night Jean-Paul died.The night everything changed.Paris, five years earlier, played out in my mind like a nightmare I could never escape.The shipping deal had seemed routine. Jean-Paul Renaud, a powerful French maritime magnate, had approached me about expanding Baldwin shipping routes into European markets.We had met at that exclusive restaurant near the Seine, deinking the French wine a
(Lila)The video played on Nick’s laptop, flames leaping into the dark sky behind a younger version of him. Blood stained his expensive suit as screams pierced the night. He hadn’t moved from his study chair for hours, drinking scotch and watching the footage Maxwell had sent.“It was a beautiful night,” Nick said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence. “Clear skies, calm waters. The kind of night that makes you believe anything’s possible.”I shifted in my wheelchair, the baby kicking against my ribs as if sensing the tension. Nick poured another drink, his fingers tight around the glass.“Jean-Paul Renaud owned half the shipping routes in Europe,” he continued. “Old money, old connections. The kind of power that could make or break empires.”“The man on the yacht?” I asked softly.Nick nodded. “He approached me about a partnership. Said my father’s old contacts were nothing compared to what we could build together.” He drained his glass. “I was young, ambitious. Thought I could handle
(Nick)Pain exploded through my shoulder as Maxwell’s bullet grazed me. Blood soaked through my shirt while I shoved Lila further behind my desk.“Your aim’s gotten worse,” I snarled, keeping my gun trained on him.Maxwell stepped into my study, his men spreading out to flank us. “Unlike you, I don’t shoot to kill. Not anymore. Not after watching you end Jean-Paul’s life.”“Shut up,” I growled, but memories flooded back—Jean-Paul crawling across the yacht’s deck, skin already blistering from the heat.“Tell her everything,” Maxwell said, nodding toward Lila. “Tell her how he begged. How he offered you anything—money, power, his entire empire—just to help him escape those flames.”“That’s not what happened.”“No?” Maxwell pulled out a small USB drive. “The security footage says otherwise. You want to watch it together? See yourself choose those contracts over his life? Watch as you pulled that trigger when he tried to escape?”My hands shook on the gun. “You’re lying.”“The cameras cau
(Grace)I ran my fingers down Maxwell’s bare chest as he lay beside me in the king-sized bed of his penthouse suite. The silk sheets felt cool against my naked skin. Everything about this room screamed wealth—from the Italian marble floors to the panoramic views of the city lights glittering below.“That was…exceptional,” Maxwell said, reaching for the crystal decanter on the nightstand.“Better than at the rehab?” I smiled, accepting the glass of scotch he poured me. The amber liquid burned pleasantly down my throat. Freedom tasted delicious after weeks in that facility, no matter how luxurious they tried to make it.“I must admit, your recovery seems remarkably swift.” Maxwell ran his fingers through my hair, twirling the dark ringlets around his finger.“Amazing what the right motivation can do.” I pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Thank you for helping me get out early. Those doctors were so easy to convince once you applied the right pressure.”“Speaking of pressure—” Maxwell sat up, t
(Ethan)I held James close as we exited the courtroom, his small arms wrapped tightly around my neck. The custody battle had drained us all, but James seemed lighter now, as if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders.“You were so brave in there,” I murmured against his hair.“I wasn’t scared,” James said into my shoulder. “Not anymore. You’re here now.”Alexander and Romy walked ahead of us toward the courthouse steps. Three men in black suits blocked their pathThey introduced themselves as parts of Robert’s old inner circle—Marcus Porter, David Ross, and Peter Wright. I froze“Ms. Leroy.” Marcus stepped forward, hands raised placatingly as Alexander moved to shield Romy. “Please, we only want to talk.”“Back off,” Alexander snarled, positioning himself between them and Romy.“We came to apologize,” David said quietly. “For everything we enabled Robert to do.”Peter nodded solemnly. “We should have stopped him. Should have seen what he was doing to you.”Romy gripped Alexander’
(Lila)The next several hours involved intense preparation. The FBI’s cyber team created an elaborate digital trap—a seemingly vulnerable server containing therapeutic records, family communications, and security protocols.Each document had been chosen to appear genuine while containing subtle markers that would help trace anyone who accessed them.“The honeypot is live,” the lead technician announced finally. “Already detecting preliminary probes of the security perimeter.”“That was fast,” Nick remarked.“They’ve been waiting for an opening,” Grace said, watching the technical displays. “This fits their established pattern—continuous surveillance for exploitable weaknesses.”Carter joined us, tablet in hand. “Now we wait for them to commit to the intrusion. Once they begin extracting data in earnest, we’ll have multiple tracing options.”“How long?” Alexander asked.“Depends on their caution level,” the technician replied. “Could be hours. Could be days.”But it wasn’t hours or day
(Lila)Fleur’s laughter rang through the room as we all stared, bewildered, at the crib. I rushed over, scooping her into my arms, frantically checking for any sign of distress. She only giggled harder, reaching for my face.“What did he do?” I demanded, turning to the others.Nick was already beside us, his hands gently examining Fleur. “Nothing, as far as I can tell. She seems perfectly fine.”On the screen, Krane smiled. “Fascinating, isn’t it? The expectation of pain creates more fear than pain itself. You’ve just experienced the fundamental principle of fear architecture—the anticipation is the weapon, not the event.”“Shut it off,” I hissed at the technicians.“No, wait,” Carter countered, signaling them to continue tracing. “We need to keep him talking.”Krane continued as if he could hear our debate. “You believe you’ve reclaimed your narrative, Lila. That by confronting your trauma, you’ve disarmed it. But fear isn’t rational. It lives in the space between threat and action—t
(Lila)“James is fine,” Ethan’s voice came through the phone, tight with fear. “We’ve tripled his security detail. Nobody’s getting near him.”“You’re sure?” I pressed, pacing the hotel suite.“I’m with him right now,” Ethan assured me. “Playing video games with two armed agents in the room.”After Krane’s message, we’d immediately verified everyone’s safety. Ethan and Cara had James at a separate secure location. Romy remained under Alexander’s protective detail at yet another facility. Nick and Ethan’s parents were overseas, surrounded by private security. My parents were downstairs.“They’re trying to destabilize us,” Carter explained as I ended the call. “Classic psychological warfare—implying vulnerability without actually demonstrating it.”“Like the basement,” I murmured, the memory rising unbidden.Nick looked up sharply. “What?”“In the basement, twenty years ago.” I sank into a chair, Fleur sleeping in my arms. “They never actually hurt us physically. They just made us belie
(Lila)I pressed my back against the headboard of the hotel bed, watching Fleur sleep in the portable crib the FBI had arranged. After three days in this new, supposedly secure hotel, I still jumped at every sound, checked every corner.The suite door opened as Nick and Alexander returned from their latest security briefing. Nick crossed immediately to Fleur’s crib, his shoulders finally relaxing when he saw her sleeping peacefully.“Any news?” I asked quietly.“We’ve identified three more Sterling operatives,” Nick replied, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “Two hotel employees at our previous location and a driver from my company.”“Grace confirmed all three,” Alexander added, loosening his tie. “Her intel has been solid.”The past seventy-two hours had transformed our situation. After Grace’s revelation, the FBI had moved us to a military-grade secure facility disguised as a boutique hotel. Grace had been debriefed continuously, identifying Sterling’s people and methodologies in de
(Lila)Fleur’s screams tore through me as I clutched her against my chest. Her tiny body shook violently, her eyes wild with a terror no baby should ever know.“Make it stop!” I pleaded, rocking her desperately. “What’s happening to her?”The FBI agents swarmed around us, checking equipment, scanning for signals, searching for whatever had triggered my daughter’s sudden panic.“Sonic frequency,” Grace said suddenly from her corner of the hotel suite. She’d been so quiet I’d almost forgotten she was there. Now she stood, walking toward us. “Robert used it on his targets. Infrasound—you can’t hear it, but it creates terror, panic.”“Shut down all devices,” Agent Carter ordered the room sharply. “Now!”Nick yanked cords from walls while agents deactivated equipment. Fleur’s screams gradually subsided, replaced by hiccupping sobs against my shoulder.“How did you know?” I asked Grace shakily.“Robert loved psychological weapons,” she replied, watching Fleur with genuine concern. “Said inf
(Nick)Jonathan Montgomery froze at the accusation as its poison spread through the room. He sat on the hotel suite sofa, looking suddenly older and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.“Dad?” Lila prompted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is it true? Did you know Victor Krane before the kidnapping?”Jonathan stared at his hands. “Not as Krane. He used a different name then—Vincent Kemp. Security consultant specializing in executive protection.”I swore violently, turning away to control my rage. Ethan remained perfectly still, his face blank with disbelief.“You brought him into our lives?” Ethan asked finally, gritted his teeth between words.“He came highly recommended,” Jonathan replied weakly. “Multiple endorsements from colleagues in the industry. Impressive credentials.”“And he suggested Blackwood’s services,” Alexander stated flatly. “Connected you.”Jonathan nodded miserably. “Said Blackwood was the best in the business. Discrete, thorough. I had no idea they were work
(Nick)The elevator descended to the hotel lobby in silence. I stood with Ethan, Carter and two armed agents, leaving Alexander to protect Lila and Fleur in the secure suite. The phone connection with Blackwood had ended abruptly after Malcolm Chambers’ arrival was announced.“This is obviously a trap,” Ethan muttered, adjusting his jacket nervously.“Of course it is,” I agreed tightly. “But if Chambers is here in person, it’s our best opportunity to end this.”Carter checked her sidearm discreetly. “Remember, we need him alive and talking. He’s our direct link to Blackwood and Krane.”The elevator doors opened to reveal a transformed hotel lobby. Most civilians had been evacuated, replaced by FBI agents positioned strategically throughout the space.In the center, sitting calmly in a leather armchair as if waiting for a business meeting, was a man in his late forties with salt-and-pepper hair and expensive glasses.“Malcolm Chambers, I presume,” I said coldly as we approached.The ma
(Nick)The voice on Lila’s phone continued smoothly. “Your father commissioned quite an elaborate project. ‘Generational intervention’ was the term he preferred.”“Who is this?” I demanded, moving to Lila’s side.“Ah, Nicholas Baldwin,” the voice acknowledged. “The man who built an empire on another man’s grave. How fitting that we should all converge now.”“Kenneth Blackwood,” Carter said into the phone, taking control of the situation. “This is Special Agent Carter, FBI. We’ve located your Connecticut property. Your archives are now in federal custody.”A pause, then a soft laugh. “Merely one of many repositories, Agent Carter. Though I’m impressed you found it. Your reputation is well-deserved.”Jonathan lunged for the phone. “Blackwood! Tell them the truth, damn you! I never hired you to take my daughter!”“Semantics, Jonathan,” Blackwood replied dismissively. “You paid for a comprehensive fear architecture program. The specific methodologies were left to our discretion.”“You’re
(Nick)“They can’t possibly be watching us here,” Lila insisted, as FBI agents swept the hotel room for surveillance devices. “We’re under federal protection.”I paced the perimeter, checking every corner, every vent, every light fixture. “We thought our homes were secure too.”Grace huddled in an armchair, watching the activity. Since the coordinated attacks had begun, she’d remained mostly silent, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.“Grace,” Agent Carter approached her directly. “We need everything you know about Kenneth Blackwood.”Grace looked up, startled. “I told you what Robert said—”“Not enough,” I interrupted sharply. “They’re targeting our children. If you know anything else, anything at all…”“I-I might,” Grace admitted reluctantly. “I didn’t think it was important before.”Ethan moved closer, sitting across from his ex-wife. “What do you remember?”Grace twisted her fingers nervously. “Robert kept a box of mementos. Things that gave him power, he said. There was a photogr