Zeke's POV We arrived at the warehouse just as the sky was darkening. We had to be very discreet, to not get caught by the men involved. Anything that would lead to a shootout without first securing my kids was what I was trying to avoid.Arriving at the doorway leading into the warehouse, I felt a strange chill in the air. The place was eerily quiet, and as I stepped inside, my heart sank. The warehouse had been cleared out completely. There was no sign of Ellen or anyone else. I walked further in, the emptiness echoing my footsteps.“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, pulling out my phone. I dialed my father’s number, needing his guidance.“What’s the situation?” he answered, his voice stern and filled with authority.“The warehouse is empty,” I reported, frustration seeping into my tone. “It looks like they just moved out. The place is freshly cleaned.”There was a pause before he responded. “They couldn't have left town. We can use this to our advantage. Look for any clues th

Ellen's POV I stood beside my father on the presidential floor, our eyes glued to the TV screen showing the live feed from the room where Kamille was with the kidnapper we had hired. I was delighted by how miserable Kamille looked. We just needed her damned signature on the documents. Was that so hard for her to do and get her pathetic self out of my face?Instead, she chose to stay in the room, her eyes red and swollen from crying and ceaselessly demanding to see her kids first. I felt a twisted satisfaction seeing her like that. She deserved this, every bit of it. We could not give her kids first because they were still unconscious and miserable just like their mother. But then, out of nowhere, Zeke appeared on the screen. My heart sank, and an overwhelming sense of rage bubbled up inside me. “Why can he not just stay away from Kamille?” I yelled, unable to contain my frustration. “What is it about her that makes him love her so much, to neglect me?” My father placed a calming

Chris's POV I sat in my clubhouse feeling angry at the state of things. The air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke, the rich aroma mingling with the faint tang of fear that always seemed to linger in these walls. "Boss," My second in command, Paul began hesitantly, breaking the heavy silence, "Should we launch a raid and search for the kids?"I exhaled a plume of smoke, the tendrils curling and dissipating into the dimly lit room. "And when I take the kids to her," I replied, my voice edged with frustration, "How will I tell her I found them? What am I supposed to say?"Hey Kamille, your kids got dropped off at my school and I brought them back to you. I scoffed at the absurdity of it.It was already enough grip at my neck that the kids were taken from right beneath my fucking nose and they have stayed missing for the past two weeks. Finding them and not having an explanation to how I found them, would only let loose whatever demon is left in Ezekiel Reid.If he makes it alive

Chris's POV I woke up in my luxurious apartment, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the heavy curtains. It was a Monday morning, but unlike every other Monday where I usually woke up early, eager to get to school so I wouldn't miss Kamille's arrival with the kids, but today was different. I knew there wasn't going to be any Kamille anywhere. I lay in bed for a few moments, staring at the ceiling, her absence pressing heavily on my chest. With a sigh, I threw off the covers and made my way to the bathroom. The water was hot as it cascaded over me, but it did little to wash away the frustration gnawing at my insides. As I dried myself off, memories of Kamille flooded my mind—her laugh, her touch, the way her lips tasted pressed against mine.“Fuck,” I muttered to myself, gripping the edge of the sink. “What the hell have you done to me, Kamille?”That night in the car when I kissed her felt like the earth had met the sun. It was a simple brush of our lips, but that kiss had hun

Zeke's POV The day had been long, filled with worry and exhaustion. Kamille had barely slept the previous night, and today had been no better. Her friends and I stayed with her, trying to provide comfort and support. I could see the strain on her face, the deep circles under her eyes, and the constant worry etched in every line.As the evening approached, I stepped out onto the balcony, needing a moment to clear my head. I pulled out my phone and dialed Mr. Rogers. He picked up on the second ring.“Mr. Reid,” he greeted, his voice steady as always.“Rogers, I need an update on the situation at the office,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.“The office is running smoothly, sir. We’ve made significant progress on the Williams deal, and the new marketing campaign has been well-received,” Rogers reported.“That’s good,” I replied, though my mind was barely in the office.I had good faith in Mr Roger’s capabilities. “There’s one more thing,” Rogers continued. “We’ve noticed a rise in