Dad, please don’t let them take me. When 6-year-old Matthew disappears from his elite LA school, everyone believes it’s a brutal kidnapping for ransom. But as clues unravel, one woman discovers a darker truth. Matthew wasn’t taken by strangers. He was taken by someone inside the mansion.
At 2:47 a.m., the digital clock on the kitchen counter glowed red in the darkness, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor of the Reed family mansion in Beverly Hills. Vanessa Reed walked barefoot, her steps silent and calculated, her nerves wired despite the stillness of the house. She had been awake for 3 hours waiting for this exact moment.
She stepped into the backyard, the cool California air brushing her arms. The security cameras didn’t cover the far left corner of the garden. A flaw Edward never noticed, but she had. Her fingers trembled slightly as she dialed a number she had memorized days ago. A gruff voice answered almost immediately. “I’m here,” Ray Dalton whispered. “You got everything ready?” Vanessa bit her lower lip.
A habit she’d had since childhood. Whenever she felt cornered. Yes. Listen carefully, she whispered. $100,000 now. Another h 100red when the job is done. The kid gets out of Hawthorne Academy at 3 p.m. sharp. The maid always picks him up. You’ll have 15 minutes before Edward’s driver arrives. Ray chuckled darkly.
And you’re sure your husband will pay? Vanessa looked up toward the master bedroom window where Edward slept without a clue. Six years of marriage had taught her one thing. He would pay anything, absolutely anything, for Matthew. He’ll pay whatever you ask, she said with bitterness. That boy is his only weakness. How long do you want me to keep him? No more than 48 hours.
Just long enough to scare Edward. Long enough to make him understand he can lose what he loves most. Ry laughed across the line. Consider it done. By tomorrow night, your little problem will be handled. Vanessa hung up and slipped back inside, placing the burner phone deep inside a flower canister in the pantry where Naomi would never look.
Everything needed to look perfect. At 6:30 a.m., the alarm buzzed. Vanessa pretended to wake up naturally beside Edward, who was already scrolling through emails on his phone. Good morning, she murmured, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. A performance she had perfected. He barely glanced up. Morning.
The meeting with the Japanese investors moved up. Naomi will need to take Matthew to school again. Of course, I have a spa appointment with the girls from the club, Vanessa replied sweetly. A lie she had practiced for weeks. Downstairs, Naomi Brooks moved around the kitchen with the precision of someone who had served the same breakfast for 7 years. She heard Vanessa descending the stairs and sensed something off in her rhythm.
“Faster, more nervous.” “Good morning, Mrs. Reed,” Naomi said gently. “Morning,” Vanessa muttered, tapping her fingers on the breakfast bar in a frantic rhythm. When her phone buzzed with a notification, she practically lunged for it. Naomi noticed instantly in seven years working in the Reed mansion, she had developed an almost supernatural ability to read emotions, especially Vanessa’s. Edward entered the dining room, adjusting his gold cuff links.
Matthew followed, his private school tie crooked and shoes untied. “Dad, can you help me with my math homework tonight?” Matthew asked hopefully. We’ll see,” Edward said without looking at him, burying himself behind the newspaper. Naomi’s heart tightened. She crouched beside Matthew, tying his shoelaces with practiced care. “Don’t worry, buddy.
You’ll figure it out. You always do.” Vanessa, meanwhile, kept checking her phone every few seconds. Edward finally noticed. “Everything okay?” “Yes,” she lied, just confirming spa schedules. Naomi saw through the lie instantly. Naomi, Edward said as he stood. Don’t forget Matthews dentist appointment next week.
I have it noted, sir, she replied softly. After breakfast, Vanessa cornered Naomi. You’re taking Matthew today, right? As always. Good. Don’t forget to pick him up exactly at 3 p.m. Not a minute late. Naomi frowned. Vanessa had never cared about school pickup times. I’ll be early as usual. At noon, Naomi buckled Matthew into the modest silver Honda Civic Edward had bought specifically for her. Far smaller than the family’s Mercedes, but reliable. “Naomi?” Matthew asked softly.
“Why is Vanessa always mad at me?” her throat tightened. For 6 years, she had watched Vanessa treat the boy with cold indifference. “She’s not mad at you,” Naomi said gently. Adults have complicated worries. She doesn’t hug me anymore,” Matthew whispered. “Not like she hugged dad when they got married.
” Naomi took a slow breath. “Your dad loves you more than anything. That’s what matters. And you love me, too, right?” Naomi smiled. “Of course I do.” As they arrived at Hawthorne Academy, Naomi spotted a man leaning against a white van across the street.
Baseball cap, sunglasses, watching the school too intently. Her instincts screamed. When he noticed her looking, he turned away and drove off fast. Naomi’s stomach tightened. At 3:10 p.m., Naomi returned for pickup, but Matthew wasn’t there. Children ran into their parents’ arms. Teachers waved goodbye, but Matthew was gone.
She rushed to his teacher, Miss Patterson. Where is Matthew Reed? The teacher smiled casually. His uncle picked him up 20 minutes ago. Uncle Naomi’s blood turned ice. Mr. Reed doesn’t have brothers. Ms. Patterson blanched. He said he was family. He showed ID. He Naomi was already dialing Edward. Naomi, what happened? Matthew’s gone. A man took him. Silence. A long, terrifying silence.
Someone kidnapped my son, Edward whispered. Naomi then called Vanessa. Two rings. Voicemail. Second call, voicemail. Third call, finally answered. What’s wrong? Vanessa asked too calm. Matthew’s been kidnapped. Naomi cried. A pause. A long one. What do you mean someone took him? Vanessa said slowly. Naomi felt a chill.
Vanessa wasn’t shocked. She was performing. I’ll head home immediately. Vanessa said, “Call Edward eventually.” They all gathered at the mansion. Edward frantic. Vanessa overly dramatic with her tears, but Naomi watched closely. Vanessa never asked once if Matthew was scared or hurt. Then the house phone rang.
Edward answered on speaker. Edward Reed. A digitally distorted voice said. I have something that belongs to you. Naomi froze. Their nightmare had begun. Edward’s grip tightened around the phone, knuckles turning white as the distorted voice echoed through the living room. Naomi stood frozen near the staircase while Vanessa clung to Edward’s arm with theatrical sobs.
Who is this? Edward demanded, breath unsteady. Where is my son? Matthew is alive,” the voice replied calmly. “For now.” Naomi felt her heart drop. If you want him back, you’ll pay $2 million in cash. Edward’s breath hitched. 2 million? Fine. I’ll get it. I’ll get whatever you want, but I need to know he’s okay. Let me speak to him.
The line went dead. Edward staggered back, dropping onto the couch as though the air had been ripped from his lungs. Vanessa immediately threw herself beside him, burying her face dramatically in his chest. “My baby, Edward, what are we going to do?” she cried, though Naomi could see her eyes flick toward her phone, checking for something. Edward ran a trembling hand through his hair.
“I have to call Gallagher. He’ll know how to liquidate assets fast.” He rushed to his office, phone already pressed to his ear. Naomi remained alone with Vanessa. And that was when she saw it. The moment Vanessa’s tears stopped instantly, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness. She wiped her eyes like she was turning off a switch. Then she checked her phone.
Naomi’s stomach twisted. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. That night, Naomi couldn’t sleep. The mansion was silent, but the weight of everything pressed on her chest like a brick. Every detail from that day replayed in her mind. The white van, the man watching the school, Vanessa’s fake panic, the way she kept checking her phone.
And the worst part, the teacher said, “Uncle Matthew didn’t have extended family on Edward’s side or on Vanessa’s. Someone had fed the kidnappers that story.” At 2:30 a.m., Naomi heard footsteps upstairs. Curious and uneasy, she slipped out of her room. A soft glow seeped under the door of Edward’s home office. She crept closer.
Gallagher, listen. Edward’s voice cracked with fatigue. I need everything liquidated by morning. Stocks, bonds, whatever we have to do. Naomi pressed her back against the wall, listening. No, no, I can’t explain this. It’s a family emergency, and I know the penalties. Damn it. Pause.
If this were your child, wouldn’t you do the same? Edward whispered, and Naomi heard the tremor in his voice. Her chest tightened. For the first time in 7 years, the man who had mostly treated her like furniture sounded human. Broken, terrified, Naomi retreated to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and brought a cup to his office. She knocked softly. “Come in.
” Edward looked up, eyes red and exhausted. I thought you might need this, Naomi said gently. He nodded with gratitude that surprised her. Thank you, Naomi. Really? She stood awkwardly. Sir, is there anything else I can do? He hesitated. Naomi, in all your time working here, have you ever noticed anything strange? Anything about this house about us? Caught her off guard.
I I’m not sure what you mean, sir. Edward rubbed his forehead. “Never mind. The stress is making me imagine things.” She turned to leave but paused. “Mr. Reed,” she said softly. “Matthew is a strong boy. We’ll find him. I know it. For the first time ever.” Edward looked at her like she was more than staff. “Thank you, Naomi. You You care about him.
Really care.” She nodded. “More than you know.” Wednesday morning, the second day of the kidnapping. Edward left early to begin the frantic race for $2 million. Vanessa stayed in bed unusually late. Her migraine, she said, though Naomi suspected she was waiting for messages.
When Vanessa finally came downstairs, she looked immaculate. Not like a grieving stepmother. Naomi, she said softly. I need you to prepare Matthew’s room. Change the sheets. Tidy everything. I want it perfect for when he returns. Naomi blinked. In six years, Vanessa had never cared about the boy’s room. But ma’am, the room is already clean. I want it spotless.
Vanessa snapped. Just do it. Naomi climbed the stairs, confusion twisting inside her. She opened Matthew’s bedroom door and stared at the space she’d cleaned only yesterday. His scattered homework pencils, his small toy cars lined up on the shelf. the unmade bed sheets from rushing that morning. Everything innocent, everything normal.
Naomi sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes landing on a framed Christmas photo on the desk. Edward held Matthew tightly, smiling. Vanessa stood beside them, smiling as well. But Naomi noticed something she had never seen before. Vanessa wasn’t touching Matthew at all. Not even a casual hand on his shoulder. There was distance, coldness.
Naomi’s skin prickled with unease. A thought came to her, a dangerous one. She went to Vanessa’s bedroom and did the unthinkable. She searched it. Her heart pounded as she checked drawers, closets, nightstands. Everything was perfectly arranged, almost like a showroom. But then she opened the bathroom waste basket. Among makeup wipes and tissue paper was a crumpled sheet of paper.
Naomi unfolded it. $100,000 upfront, $100,000 after phone 5550847. R industrial Avenue 142. Her heart nearly stopped. The handwriting belonged to Vanessa. The numbers matched the ransom demands. Naomi photographed the note with her old phone and placed it back exactly as she found it. She felt like she was holding a live grenade.
At 2 p.m., Vanessa announced she was stepping out to the patio. Naomi quietly followed, slipping around the garden to the shrub line beneath the living room window. Vanessa’s voice drifted out. You can’t change the price now, Ray. We agreed on everything. Naomi’s blood froze. Vanessa knew the kidnapper’s name. She hit record on her phone.
What do you mean he’s being difficult? Vanessa hissed. He’s 6 years old. What trouble can he? Crack. Naomi stepped on a twig. Instant silence. Who’s out there? Vanessa shouted. Naomi ducked behind the potting shed, barely breathing as Vanessa stepped outside, scanning the yard like a predator. Minutes passed before she finally went inside.
Naomi stayed hidden another 10 minutes. She had confirmation now. Vanessa had planned everything. And worse, Matthew was in danger. At 4:30 p.m., Edward returned with a duffel bag filled with $2 million in cash. He looked gray, exhausted. Vanessa ran to him, sobbing. Thank God. Now we just have to wait for them to call. Naomi stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching, waiting. At 5 p.m.
, they called again. Edward Reed. The distorted voice growled. We have a problem. Edward’s face drained of color. What problem? The boy cried all night, tried to escape. My men don’t like that. The price just went up. Naomi looked at Vanessa. Vanessa looked actually shocked. How much? Edward whispered. 3 million. I I don’t have another million, Edward said, voice cracking.
I sold everything. I That’s not my problem, the voice snapped. You have until tomorrow at noon. The line went dead. Edward collapsed onto the couch. Vanessa comforted him, but Naomi saw the fear behind Vanessa’s eyes now. The plan had slipped out of her control, and Naomi realized something chilling.
If she didn’t act soon, Matthew wouldn’t survive this. Naomi waited until Edward retreated to his office, clutching his head in his hands. She could hear him making desperate calls. Banks, private lenders, even old business partners. His voice cracked each time he said Matthew’s name. Vanessa stayed close to him like a shadow, hovering, interrupting, stepping between Naomi and Edward anytime she tried to speak.
It was obvious now. Vanessa knew Naomi had noticed something, and that made Naomi a threat. She had to be careful. Hours passed. Naomi made dinner, though no one ate. Edward paced. Vanessa cried in rehearsed waves. Naomi watched everything, waiting for a moment alone with Edward. At 10 p.m., Naomi finally approached Edward in the hallway. Mr. Reed, sir, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about Vanessa.
But Vanessa appeared instantly as if she had been listening around the corner. Naomi, she snapped sharply. Can you prepare the guest room? My sister is flying in tonight to support us. But sir, I need to. Naomi started. Now Naomi, Vanessa ordered, stepping closer. Her eyes were razor sharp behind the mask of grief.
Edward barely looked up. Naomi, please. Not now. The door closed between them. Naomi stood frozen, blood cold. Vanessa had just cut off her only chance to warn Edward. Naomi prepared the guest room mechanically. Her mind raced. Vanessa was always cold, selfish, careless, but not stupid.
If she suspected Naomi knew something, she could become dangerous. Very dangerous. At 10:30 p.m., Naomi saw Vanessa talking quietly on the phone while pretending to have a headache. Naomi moved silently down the hall, listening behind the half-cloed door. “Yes, Rey. I know things got complicated,” Vanessa whispered. Her voice sounded terrified. Finally, the fear was real.
No, I can’t get another million. Edward is already suspicious. Silence. Are you insane? Kill him? That was never part. No, absolutely not. Naomi covered her mouth with both hands to muffle her gasp. If Rey was talking about killing Matthew, the situation was far beyond ransom now. She had no choice. She had to warn Edward.
She stepped back to look for him, but Vanessa came out of the room suddenly, giving Naomi a sharp, predatory stare. “What are you doing?” Naomi flinched. “I I was heading to the kitchen, ma’am.” Vanessa stepped closer. Too close. “You’ve been nervous lately, haven’t you?” she said in a low, dangerous tone. “I don’t understand.” “I think you do.” Naomi’s hands shook as she clutched the tray she’d been carrying. Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Probably Ray calling back, but she didn’t dare move. Vanessa leaned in. We should have a conversation soon, Naomi. A very serious one. Naomi nodded quickly. Yes, ma’am. Of course. Only when Vanessa walked away did Naomi allow herself to breathe. Thursday morning. Naomi woke before sunrise with a decision already burning in her mind.
If she couldn’t warn Edward inside the house, she would do it outside. She dressed in normal clothes, not her uniform, and told Vanessa she needed to pick up groceries early. Vanessa barely looked up from her phone, but the slight tension in her shoulders told Naomi she was watching her closely.
Naomi walked out of the mansion, but instead of heading to the market, she went straight to the home of Mrs. Rosenfield, the elderly neighbor who always seemed to know everything happening on the street. Oh, Naomi, dear, come in. Mrs. Rosenfield said warmly. Naomi sipped the chamomile tea offered, trying to appear calm. Mrs. Rosenfield, have you noticed anything unusual in the neighborhood recently? The old woman’s eyes lit up.
She loved neighborhood gossip. “Well, yes, actually,” she said thoughtfully. “Last week, I saw a white van parked down the street three days in a row. Same man sitting inside. dark mustache, baseball cap. Watching all the houses. Naomi felt a chill. That same man took Matthew, she whispered. Mrs. Rosenfield gasped. Naomi stood abruptly. Thank you. I need to go.
Time was running out. At 11:00 a.m., Naomi returned to the mansion, pretending nothing was wrong. Vanessa was waiting for her in the living room, arms crossed. You went to the neighbor’s house this morning. Vanessa said calmly. Naomi froze. Vanessa smiled. The cameras faced the street. Naomi.
You forget I know every angle of this property. Naomi swallowed. Mrs. Rosenfield needed help with something. Did she? Vanessa said, stepping closer. Or were you telling stories you shouldn’t be telling? Naomi forced herself not to react. Of course not, ma’am.
Vanessa stared at her for several seconds before saying, “Follow me,” she led Naomi into the pantry. “I need the entire storage reorganized,” Vanessa said lightly. “Check expiration dates. Throw out anything old.” “Yes, ma’am,” Naomi said, lowering herself to the boxes on the floor. As Naomi reached for the first crate, the door slammed behind her. Click.
The unmistakable sound of a lock turning. Naomi shot up instantly. Mrs. Reed. Vanessa. The door stuck. Silence. Ma’am. Vanessa. Nothing. Naomi pounded the door. Let me out. Still nothing. Her breath hitched as fear surged through her chest. Vanessa had trapped her. Naomi scanned the room. No windows. Only one exit the locked door.
Panic surged, but she forced herself to think. Wait. The pantry connected to the garden tool room. There was a tiny high window there, just big enough. Naomi pushed crates aside, stacking anything she could climb on. Sweat dripped down her forehead. She dragged a heavy bin beneath the connecting door and pried it open. A narrow crawl space.
She squeezed through, scraping her shoulder, pushing herself into the tool room. Then she saw it. The small window just big enough for a small adult. She stacked buckets, climbed up, pushed the window open, and hauled herself out onto the grass behind the house. Naomi crouched, breathing hard. Vanessa really wanted her gone, and she knew too much.
Naomi ran straight to the nearest public pay phone two blocks away. She pulled the slip of paper from her pocket with Ray’s number and dialed. Her fingers trembled. “Ring, ring.” “Yeah.” Ray’s unfiltered voice answered. Naomi’s heart stopped. She immediately hung up. It was him. Vanessa had a direct line to the kidnapper. Naomi ran back toward the mansion.
Vanessa was standing in the foyer when she entered, pretending to be surprised. “How did the pantry go?” she asked sweetly. “Fine, ma’am.” Vanessa’s eyes narrowed for a split second, confused that Naomi wasn’t still locked inside. But Naomi didn’t give her long to think. She went to the kitchen phone and dialed Edward’s cell. Mr. Reed, please. Please listen. I’ve discovered something.
Your wife. But the line clicked. The call dropped. Seconds later, the house phone rang. Naomi answered. Naomi. Edward said sharply. Vanessa told me you’re having episodes. Stress. Confusion. Beside. Maybe you should take some days off. Her knees weakened. Vanessa had poisoned him against her. No, sir, please.
She’s lying. Vanessa is involved in the click. The line went dead. Naomi stared at the receiver. Heartbreaking. Behind her, Vanessa stood with a small victorious smile. By 8:00 p.m., Edward returned home defeated. He avoided Naomi’s eyes, his trust shattered by Vanessa’s manipulation. Naomi,” he said quietly.
“I think it’s best if you take an indefinite leave.” Naomi felt her world collapse. Vanessa handed her a Manila envelope with a check. “Here’s your severance. Pack your things.” Naomi knew this wasn’t about employment. It was about silencing her. She packed her few belongings, tears slipping silently down her face.
Not because she lost the job, but because Matthew was running out of time. When she walked out the front door, Vanessa watched her with cold, triumphant satisfaction. But as Naomi stepped into the dark street with her suitcase, she made a silent promise. Matthew Reed will not die. Not while I’m still breathing.
Naomi’s small apartment felt colder than usual. She sat on the edge of her narrow bed, staring at the envelope Vanessa had given her. $5,000. Blood money. Hush money. A final insult after seven years of loyalty. Her phone buzzed. Her sister Emily. Naomi, are you okay? It’s almost midnight. Naomi swallowed. Emily, I need your help.
She told her everything. Matthew’s kidnapping, Vanessa’s lies, Ray’s number, the threats, the pantry door locking, everything she had been holding in. Emily went quiet for a long moment. Naomi, you’re in danger. I know, Naomi whispered. But Matthew is in more danger. Emily exhaled shakily. How much do you need? 10,000. Naomi said softly.
For a private investigator. That’s all my savings. I know. Emily hesitated. Then I’ll send it tomorrow morning. But Naomi didn’t have tomorrow. Matthew didn’t have tomorrow. Thank you, Naomi whispered, ending the call. But as she lay staring at her cracked ceiling, the truth settled heavy in her chest.
She couldn’t wait for a detective. Matthew might not live through the night. 30 minutes later, Naomi was back in her car. Parked under the shadow of a jackaranda tree across from the Reed mansion. She watched through the windows. Edward pacing.
Vanessa moving calmly around the living room like a woman who had already accepted her role in a tragedy she created. At 11:10 p.m. Naomi saw Vanessa slip out the back door and walked toward a small white Suru parked down the block. Bingo. Naomi waited 10 seconds, then started her old Chevy and followed at a safe distance. Vanessa drove with unnatural confidence, weaving through late night Los Angeles streets toward the industrial zones near Vernon.
Warehouses, abandoned factories, miles of empty loading docks, the perfect place to hide a kidnapped child. Finally, Vanessa turned into a desolate lot beside a boarded up beverage distribution warehouse. Dim light leaked from inside. Naomi parked two streets away and approached on foot. She found a broken window covered in newspaper.
Carefully, she peeled back the edge and peered inside. Her heart clenched, Matthew was tied to a plastic chair in the center of the warehouse. Blindfolded, shaking with fear, still in his school uniform. Still so small, Vanessa stood facing Ray Dalton, the kidnapper with the mustache and cold eyes. Naomi hit record. Ray, this is getting out of control. Vanessa hissed. It was already out of control.
Ray snapped. The kid cried all night. Tried to run. My guys are done babysitting. Stick to the plan. 2 million and release him. The price is 6 million now. What? Vanessa whispered. Rey, we agreed. That was before your husband started alerting banks. Lenders, he’s drawing attention. I need more money to disappear.
I can’t get 6 million. Edward has nothing left. Ray stepped closer, smirking. Sounds like a you problem, Vanessa. Naomi’s heart hammered as she kept recording. Vanessa crossed her arms, voice trembling. After the money, “What happens to him?” Ry laughed softly. “What do you think?” Naomi pressed her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. “No,” Vanessa whispered.
“We never planned to hurt him. You wanted to scare your husband. I want to stay alive. The kid knows our faces. Ry shrugged. He’s a liability. Vanessa’s face drained of color. Rey, you can’t kill him. Watch me. Naomi felt adrenaline surge like fire through her veins. She knew then if she didn’t act tonight, Matthew would die. Naomi ran back to her car, shaking violently.
She needed to get to Edward before Vanessa returned and poisoned him with more lies. She drove fast too fast toward Beverly Hills. At 12:30 a.m., she reached the Reed mansion again and parked hurriedly. She dialed Edward once. Voicemail twice. Voicemail three times straight to voicemail. No, no, no. She rang the doorbell repeatedly. Finally, the door opened.
Edward stood there disheveled, exhausted, holding a glass of whiskey. Naomi, he said coldly. I told you I have proof. Naomi blurted, desperate. Video proof. Matthew is alive. Vanessa was with the kidnappers tonight. I saw everything. Edward froze. Let me inside. Naomi pleaded. Now he stepped aside. Naomi played the warehouse video. Matthew tied up, Vanessa arguing.
Ry threatening to kill the boy. Edward’s face collapsed. “That’s that’s her,” he whispered. “And that’s Rey.” “Oh, God.” He sank into a chair, trembling. “Naomi, what have I done?” he whispered. “I sent you away. I believed her.” “Sir, we don’t have time,” Naomi urged. “They moved Matthew once already. They won’t hesitate to kill him tonight. Edward stood sharply.
Where was this? An abandoned warehouse near Industrial Avenue. Edward’s eyes widened. My company built a complex near there. I know the whole area. He grabbed his keys. Let’s go. Naomi followed him outside. We’re getting my son back, Edward said, voice shaking but determined. Tonight, Naomi nodded. Yes, sir. Tonight. They drove off into the dark, racing the clock.
Matthew had only hours left. Edward drove like a man possessed, cutting through the empty late night streets of Los Angeles. Naomi sat beside him, hands shaking, replaying the warehouse video in her mind. Matthew tied up, blindfolded, crying alone. She forced herself to breathe. Matthew needed them steady, focused.
We’re close,” Edward muttered, gripping the wheel. “Industrial Avenue is just ahead.” Naomi pointed toward a cluster of abandoned factories. Vanessa took a side road before the warehouse. “Look for a turnoff near the river.” Edward nodded. He knew this area well. His construction company had renovated buildings here years ago. The street lights grew dimmer.
Graffiti covered walls loomed over them. A stray dog barked in the distance. Finally, Naomi recognized the faded billboard she had seen earlier. There, she whispered, “Turn right.” Edward pulled over a block away from the warehouse. They stepped out into the cold night air. The smell of oil, rust, and river water filled their lungs. Naomi’s heart pounded.
Edward reached into the trunk and pulled out a crowbar and a flashlight. “Stay behind me,” he whispered. They moved like shadows through the dead silence of the industrial zone until they reached the warehouse with the broken window. Naomi pointed. That’s where Matthew was inside that room.
Edward clenched his jaw and crept toward a service door at the side of the building. Naomi held her breath as he tested the handle. Locked. He jammed the crowbar into the seam, pushing with every ounce of strength. Metal groaned, screws snapped. The door swung inward with a loud crack. They froze. Voices from inside the warehouse.
Naomi grabbed Edward’s sleeve. Ray Dalton’s unmistakable draw echoed from somewhere deeper in the building. We finish this tonight. No more delays. Edward’s face turned white. Naomi whispered, “We have to move now.” They entered silently, sticking to the walls. The warehouse stretched out in massive empty rows. shadows swallowing the corners.
Far ahead, a dim light flickered. They heard Matthew whimpering. Naomi’s eyes filled instantly. Edward took a step, but Naomi grabbed him. Wait, we don’t know how many men Ry brought. As they inched closer, voices became clear. A second man said, “Ry, why isn’t the woman here yet? She’s supposed to bring more money.” Ry spat on the ground. Vanessa’s useless now. We’ll take what we got.
Ditch the kid and disappear. Edward’s entire body shook with rage. Naomi mouthed silently. We have to separate them. She scanned the area quickly. There, a stack of metal rods leaning against a wall. If she knocked them over, it might draw Ray’s men away from Matthew. She nodded to Edward. One shot. Naomi crept toward the rods.
Every step a prayer. When she reached them, she closed her eyes. whispered, “Please,” and shoved, “Crash!” Metal thundered across the concrete floor, echoing through the entire warehouse. “What the hell was that?” One of Ray’s men shouted. “Go check it out!” Ray barked. Footsteps thundered in the opposite direction. Edward didn’t hesitate.
He sprinted toward the chair where Matthew sat, trembling, blindfolded. “Matthew,” Edward whispered urgently. Matthew flinched. Dad, it’s me, buddy. I’m here. Edward sliced the ropes with the crowbar, trembling as he touched his son’s shoulders. Naomi joined them, removing the blindfold gently. The boy blinked painfully at the sudden light.
Naomi, he said softly, voice broken. She pulled him into a tight embrace. I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re taking you home. But Rey returned faster than expected. H E Y he roared. Edward spun, shielding Matthew behind him. Ray held a gun. Naomi froze. Did you really think you could walk in here and take him? Ry growled. I run this situation now.
Edward stepped forward. Rey, listen. No, Ry shouted. I said 6 million. That woman tried to cheat me. You tried to cheat me. Now everyone pays. Naomi pulled Matthew against her chest, whispering, “Don’t look! Don’t look!” Ry aimed the gun straight at Edward and then a voice echoed from behind them. “Drop it, Rey.
” Vanessa Reed, standing in the doorway, breathless, sweating, terrified, but holding a gun of her own. Rey laughed. “You think you’ll shoot me, princess?” “No,” she said softly. But I can threaten you long enough to get what I want. Rey looked amused. And what’s that? Vanessa pointed the gun directly at Matthew. Naomi gasped.
Edward shouted. Vanessa and O. But Vanessa’s eyes were wild, broken. If he survives, Edward will never forgive me. She whispered. He’ll know. Everything will fall apart. But if he dies tonight, all the blame goes to Rey. And I walk away. Ray blinked, stunned. You’re crazier than I thought. Naomi felt Matthew trembling violently in her arms.
She tightened her grip. Edward stood between Vanessa’s raised gun and his son. “Vanessa, please,” he begged. “Don’t do this. You loved him. I never loved him,” she spat. “He was always your mistake, not mine.” Those words hit Edward harder than any bullet could. Ry lifted his gun, ready to fire at Vanessa, at Edward, at anyone.
In that split second, Naomi acted. She lunged forward, grabbing a shard of metal from the floor and hurling it at Rey with all her strength. He struck his wrist. He screamed, dropping the gun. Edward tackled him instantly. Both men crashing to the floor in a violent struggle. Vanessa screamed and fired wildly. The bullet ricocheted off a metal beam.
Naomi shielded Matthew with her body. Edward slammed Ry against a concrete pillar, knocking him unconscious. Naomi grabbed Ray’s fallen gun and pointed it at Vanessa. “Drop it!” Naomi said, voice shaking but firm. Vanessa looked around at Edward holding his son, at Naomi with the gun, at Ry unconscious on the ground.
She lowered the weapon, clattered onto the floor, and for the first time, Vanessa collapsed, sobbing, not in guilt. In defeat, police sirens wailed minutes later, blue and red lights painting the abandoned warehouse. Rey and his men were arrested. Vanessa screamed as officers handcuffed her, threatening revenge on everyone. Edward held Matthew tightly, tears streaming down his face.
You saved my son, he whispered to Naomi, voicebreaking. I will never forget what you did. Naomi smiled weakly, brushing Matthew’s hair back. I promised him he’d be okay, she whispered. And I don’t break promises. For the first time in four days, the nightmare was