Chapter 8
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He used a brand-new burner phone, impossible to trace.
The phone rang endlessly before someone finally answered.
"Who is this?"
The voice was aged but surprisingly strong.
William Grant himself.
Without a word, Ethan activated the recording function and held the phone to my crying baby.
Silence stretched across the line.
After what felt like forever, William spoke again, his voice carrying the faintest tremor.
"…Where are you?"
"Old man Grant, what a pleasure," Ethan sneered. "Want to find us? Simple. One billion in cash, new identities, and tickets to Switzerland. Otherwise, you'll never see your precious grandson, ever."
"You dare threaten me?" William's voice turned to ice, radiating the authority of a man used to absolute power.
"Why not?" Ethan shot back. "I'm already a wanted murderer nationwide. What's kidnapping and extortion on top of that? A man with nothing to lose fears nothing."
Another heavy silence filled the line.
I could picture William's face contorted with rage.
A lifetime of scheming and control, yet checkmated by two insects he'd considered beneath notice.
"I can give you whatever you want," William's voice softened into negotiation mode. "But how do I know the child is safe? How can I verify he's truly my grandson?"
"Simple," Ethan replied smoothly. "Tomorrow at ten, I'll leave one of the baby's hairs at the coffee shop below your headquarters. Run your DNA test. When you have results, we'll talk terms."
"Fine," William agreed curtly. "I'll wait for your call."
The line went dead.
I looked at Ethan anxiously. "Will he… agree?"
"He will," Ethan said with absolute certainty. "He has no choice."
The next day, Ethan delivered the tissue with my son's hair to the designated spot.
Two days of deathly silence followed.
Nothing from William Grant.
My heart lodged permanently in my throat.
Each minute stretched into agonizing eternity.
I feared he'd changed tactics—that he was mobilizing every resource to hunt us down.
The entire city felt like a massive web, with us as trapped, trembling flies.
Finally, on the third afternoon, Ethan's phone rang.
William Grant again.
"The results are in," William's voice sounded weary. "He is my grandson."
Ethan and I both exhaled in relief.
"Is the money ready?" Ethan demanded.
"It is," William replied. "But I have one condition."
"Speak."
"I want to see the child in person," William said. "I need to verify he's healthy. Then I'll hand over the money and documents face-to-face."
Ethan's brow furrowed deeply.
This was the most dangerous part.
Meeting William Grant meant walking into the tiger's den.
"What's wrong? Scared?" William taunted, sensing Ethan's hesitation. "Or perhaps you don't actually have the child?"
"Fine," Ethan agreed through gritted teeth. "But I choose the time and place."
"Agreed."
"Tonight, midnight. The abandoned west dock. Come alone—no police, no backup. Or we kill the hostage."
"Deal."
After he hung up, I looked at him anxiously. "This is suicide. He'll bring an army."
"I know," Ethan replied, his eyes coldly calculating. "That's exactly why we need to go."
"It's our only chance to get everything we need and disappear immediately."
He looked at me and our sleeping son.
"Liv, wait in the car with the baby. If I'm not back in thirty minutes, drive away and don't ever look back."
He pulled out the black pistol and handed it to me.
"If… if anyone tries to take the baby, you…"
He didn't finish, but his meaning was clear.
My heart felt squeezed by an invisible fist.
"No. We leave together or not at all." I clutched his hand, tears welling in my eyes.
He wiped my tears with surprising gentleness, showing a tenderness I'd never seen before.
"Be strong, Liv."
"Promise you'll raise him well. Tell him his… father loved him very much."
That night was moonless and wind-whipped.
The abandoned dock loomed like a crouching beast in the darkness.
The sea wind cut through to the bone.
I sat in the car clutching my baby, watching Ethan's solitary figure disappear into the dock's shadows.
His silhouette stretched long under the sparse lights.
Lonely but determined.
My heart pounded in my throat.
Time crawled by, each second an eternity.
Every tick of my watch felt like a lifetime.
Ten minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Half an hour passed.
No sign of Ethan.
My heart sank like a stone.
Something had gone wrong.
Terribly wrong.
What should I do?
Follow his instructions and flee? Or…
As I wavered, a dozen blinding headlights suddenly flooded the dock!
The darkness vanished in harsh white light.
Then came shouting and the thunder of many footsteps.
"Get him! Don't let him escape!"
I saw everything.
Ethan surrounded by at least fifteen men.
Blood covering his clothes.
Opposite him, William Grant in his wheelchair, watching coldly.
Behind him, rows of black-suited security.
He'd never intended to keep his word.
"Did you really think you could escape?" William's voice carried over the wind. "Give me the child and I'll make your death quick."
"Hah…" Ethan spat blood and laughed. "Old fox. I knew you'd never play fair."
Suddenly he pulled something from his jacket and held it high.
A small remote control.
"Guess what this is?" A wild smile spread across his bloodied face. "I've rigged this entire dock with explosives. One press and we all die together!"
William's expression finally cracked.
"You're insane!"
"I AM insane!" Ethan roared. "Driven mad by monsters like you! I'll count to three—clear a path and throw over the money and documents! Or we all go to hell together!"
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
William's face contorted with conflicting emotions, clearly calculating his options.
Just as Ethan opened his mouth for "three"—
BANG!
A gunshot shattered the night.
Ethan's body jerked violently.
He looked down in disbelief at the blood pouring from his chest.
Then he crumpled slowly to the ground.
The shooter wasn't one of William's men.
It was…
Me.
I stood beside the car, gun still smoking in my hand.
Everyone froze, including William Grant.
They stared at me like I was some apparition.
Ignoring them all, I walked steadily toward Ethan's bleeding form.
"Why…?" he gasped, eyes filled with confusion and agony.
I crouched beside him and whispered so only he could hear:
"Because you're my enemy too."
"Have you forgotten? You're the one who sold me into hell."
"I repay kindness with kindness, Ethan. And betrayal… with justice."
His eyes widened in shock, then dimmed forever.
He was gone.
Killed by the woman he'd risked everything to save.
I stood and faced William Grant coldly.
"Now, shall we talk business, Mr. Grant?"
