Chapter 2 - The Day I Called Eli My Son, Someone Else Started Planning His KidnappingBy Monday morning, Eli had a bedroom.
By Tuesday, he had filled it with toys.
By Wednesday, he had somehow convinced three grown men that a six-year-old's stuffed animals needed their own shelf.
By Thursday, he had asked me whether billionaires were allowed to eat cereal for dinner.
I said yes.
He celebrated.
For the first time in years, my mansion sounded like a home.
Footsteps.
Laughter.
Doors opening.
Television in the background.
Someone asking me where the chocolate cookies were.
It was chaos.
And I loved it.
But Marcus didn't.
He noticed things I didn't.
A black sedan parked outside twice.
A stranger photographed the gates.
One of my security cameras had been disabled for forty-two seconds.
Someone had accessed an employee database.
Marcus brought the information to me Friday morning.
“Boss.”
I looked up from my coffee.
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
I listened.
Someone had been asking questions about Eli.
His former shelter.
His mother.
The places he used to sleep.
His medical records.
His birth certificate.
Everything.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
“Find out.”
Marcus hesitated.
“There's something else.”
He handed me a photograph.
It showed Eli standing beside me in Grant Park.
Taken from a distance.
My blood went cold.
“How long?”
“Three days.”
I stared at the photograph.
They weren't watching me.
They were watching him.
I stood.
“Double the security.”
“Already done.”
“Move him upstairs.”
“Done.”
“Cancel every public appearance.”
Marcus nodded.
Then Eli ran into the room.
“Dad!”
I turned.
He was holding a drawing.
“Look!”
He handed it to me.
It showed three stick figures.
Me.
Eli.
And a third figure.
“Who's that?”
“My mom.”
I swallowed.
“You remember her?”
“Sometimes.”
“What did she look like?”
He pointed to the drawing.
“Like me.”
I smiled.
Then his expression changed.
“She told me something before she died.”
“What?”
“She said if a man named Victor ever finds me, I should run.”
My heart stopped.
“Victor what?”
“I don't know.”
“Did your mother know him?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Eli shrugged.
“He used to come to our apartment.”
I exchanged a look with Marcus.
“Did he hurt her?”
“No.”
“Then why were you afraid?”
“Because Mommy cried after he left.”
I stood.
“Marcus.”
“Yes, Boss?”
“Find every Victor connected to the city's criminal organizations.”
He nodded.
That night, I sat beside Eli's bed.
He was asleep.
I watched him breathe.
I had spent twenty years believing fear was protection.
Now I understood fear was only useful until someone found what you loved.
May you like
Then fear became a weapon pointed at your heart.
And someone had just discovered mine.
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