The text beneath the photo of Leo wasn't just a threat; it was a vicious strike, shattering my composure into a thousand jagged pieces."
I stared at the screen until my eyes burned.
"How would it feel if you woke up one morning and your entire world was gone...?"
For a moment, the world was spinning. No! Not Leo, he is my everything and whoever sent this knows that for sure. No doubt the person was cold, and dangerous for him to use Leo as a pawn in a game of terror.This must be the work of a scavenger.
I zoomed in on the photo, my clinical focus taking over. I wasn't looking at my son's smile anymore; I was looking at the background. There, idling near the curb of the park, was a smudge of matte black.
My heart stopped.
The black van.
It was the same one I had noticed last week the night we flew from the hospital penthouse at this hotel—the one I had waved aside as just another piece of the San Francisco driver who caught up in traffic and decided to park the van since it was close to the hotel. The same one I had seen Asher had paused to look at when he was leaving the hotel. He had seen it. He had known something was wrong, and he had not warned me. Damn you Asher. I cursed under my breath. "Would you have listened to him if he had? My inner voice asked." Whatever, it doesn't matter right now and this isn't the time to apportion blame on anyone. I countered the voice
I didn't wait for another second. I grabbed a duffel bag and began throwing Leo's essentials inside— his favorite stuffed rabbit, a change of clothes. I quickly woke his nanny. Nanny B knows better than to question me if there was a problem by now. She quickly gathered the remaining things ..Every creak of the hotel floorboards sounded like a footstep. Every whistle of the wind against the window sounded like a whisper.
I rushed back to Leo's . He was fast asleep, his small chest rising and falling in a rhythm of perfect innocence. I felt a sob catch in my throat, but I choked it back.
"I've got you, baby," I whispered, lifting him gently. He stirred, mumbling something incoherent, but stayed asleep.
I didn't take the elevator. I took the service stairs, carrying thirty pounds of toddler with his nanny carrying a bag full of desperation. My plan for the offshore safe house was still the only move I had, and i could not afford to wait till morning as planned initially. However, i stopped dead in my track as a scary thought came to my mind. What if they were outside waiting for me to take this decision i was about to take. My sudden movement made Leo's nanny amost pumped into me. Go back inside i whispered to her. Just as i was about to turn back, I saw it.
It was parked three rows away from my car. The black van.
The engine was off, but the windows were tinted so darkly they looked like voids. It was just sitting there, waiting. I ducked behind a concrete pillar, my lungs burning. They didn't just have his photo; they were here.
My phone buzzed again. My heart nearly failed. I didn't want to look, but I had to.
"Going somewhere, Chloe? The bridge is beautiful this time of night. But accidents happen so easily in the dark."
They weren't just watching the hotel. They were monitoringmy movements.
I realized then that if I got into my car, I was driving us into a coffin. I looked at Leo's peaceful face and then back at the van. I did nor know when i whispered, "Asher, where are you?.
Chapter 24: The Van in the Shadows
The text beneath the photo of Leo wasn't just a threat; it was a psychological scalpel, cutting through my remaining composure. I stared at the screen until my eyes burned, the pixels blurring into a nightmare.
"How would it feel if you woke up one morning and your entire world—your precious Leo—was gone, never to be seen again?"
For a moment, the world was spinning. No! Not Leo. He is my everything, the only beat my heart has left. Whoever sent this knew exactly where to strike. There was no doubt this person was cold and dangerous to use a toddler as a pawn in a game of terror. This was the work of a scavenger, someone who fed on the fear of those left behind.
I zoomed in on the photo, my clinical focus fighting to take over the panic. I wasn't looking at my son's smile anymore; I was looking at the background. There, idling near the curb of the park where we had played just days ago, was a smudge of matte black.
My heart stopped. The black van.
It was the same one I had noticed last week, the night we fled the hospital penthouse to this hotel. I had waved it aside as just another San Francisco driver caught in traffic, someone who had parked near the hotel by coincidence. I remembered now—Asher had paused to look at that same van when he was leaving. He had seen it. He had known something was wrong, and yet, he hadn't warned me.
Damn you, Asher. I cursed under my breath, my grip tightening on the phone.
"Would you have listened to him if he had?" my inner voice whispered, cold and accusing.
I shook my head to silence it. Whatever the truth was, it didn't matter right now. This wasn't the time to apportion blame. This was the time to survive.
I didn't wait another second. I grabbed a duffel bag and began throwing Leo's essentials inside—his favorite stuffed rabbit, a change of clothes, his medication. I quickly woke his nanny. Nanny B was a seasoned woman who knew better than to question me when she saw the look in my eyes. She moved in a silent blur, gathering the remaining things we couldn't leave behind.
Every creak of the hotel floorboards sounded like a footstep. Every whistle of the wind against the window sounded like a whisper. The suite that had felt like a sanctuary an hour ago was now a glass cage.
I rushed back to Leo's room. He was fast asleep, his small chest rising and falling in a rhythm of perfect innocence. I felt a sob catch in my throat, but I choked it back.
"I've got you, baby," I whispered, lifting him gently. He stirred, mumbling something incoherent, but stayed asleep, his warm weight a reminder of everything I had to lose.
I didn't take the elevator; that was a trap. I took the service stairs, carrying thirty pounds of toddler while Nanny B followed behind, carrying a bag full of desperation. My plan for the offshore safe house was the only move I had left. I couldn't afford to wait until sunrise as I had planned. We had to move now.
However, I stopped dead in my tracks as we reached the heavy steel door of the parking garage. A terrifying thought paralyzed me: What if they were outside waiting for me to take this exact path? My sudden movement made Nanny B almost bump into me. "Go back inside," I whispered to her, my voice trembling.
But just as I prepared to turn back toward the stairs, I saw it through the narrow glass pane of the door. It was parked three rows away from my car. The black van.
The engine was off, but the windows were tinted so darkly they looked like voids. It was just sitting there, a predator in the tall grass. I ducked behind a concrete pillar, my lungs burning with the effort to stay silent. They didn't just have his photo; they were here, watching the exits.
My phone buzzed again. My heart nearly failed. I didn't want to look, but I had to.
"Going somewhere, Chloe? The bridge is beautiful this time of night. But accidents happen so easily in the dark."
They weren't just watching the hotel. They were monitoring my every movement. I realized then that if I got into my car, I was driving us into a coffin. I looked at Leo's peaceful face and then back at the van. I didn't even realize I was speaking until I heard the words leave my lips.
"Asher, where are you?"
He wasn't there. For the first time, I realized that being free from his shadow meant being exposed to the sun—and the heat was starting to burn.
I pulled out my phone, but I didn't call the Reed family. I didn't call the soldiers at the hospital. Instead, I sent a priority alert to the private security firm I had hired personally. These were the four men I had vetted, the men I paid to be my independent shield.
"Fairmont Garage. Level B. Row 4. Black van idling. Intercept immediately. I am pinned."
"ETA sixty seconds, Doctor," the reply came.
I leaned against the cold concrete, counting the seconds. True to their word, the silence was shattered by the screech of tires. Two white SUVs roared down the ramp, their high beams cutting through the gloom of the garage. They boxed the black van in, and four men in tactical gear stepped out, weapons drawn.
"Out of the vehicle! Now!" the lead guard, Silas, roared.
Relief washed over me, so thick I almost slumped to the floor. My men were here. We were safe. I started to step out from behind the pillar, ready to run toward the SUVs, when my phone vibrated one last time.
A message from the unknown number: "I bought them, Chloe. ."
I froze. I looked at the four guards. Two of them, including Silas, weren't pointing their guns at the van anymore. They were slowly, deliberately turning their muzzles toward the pillar where Nanny B and I were hiding.
But the other two guards—the younger ones—didn't move. They looked at Silas, then at the van, and then back at me. They hadn't been told about the side deal.
The garage went deathly quiet. The air was charged with the kind of tension that preceded a lightning strike.
"Silas?" one of the younger guards, Miller, asked, his voice wavering. "What are you doing? The target is the van."
Silas didn't look at him. His eyes were fixed on the pillar. "The target is the woman, Miller. Lower your weapon and you get a cut. Keep it up, and you die with her."
My blood turned to ice. My own security—the men I had hand-picked to stay away from the Mafia—were having a civil war ten feet away from my son.
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