Chapter 5 - They Took My Daughter From the Penthouse—But the Kidnappers Made One Fatal Mistake: They Took Her From a MorettiI had spent my entire life building a reputation.
That night, I finally understood why.
Every phone in New York started ringing.
Former soldiers.
Drivers.
Informants.
Detectives.
Businessmen.
People who owed my family favors.
I gave them one order.
“Find my daughter.”
No questions.
No negotiations.
Within thirty minutes, we had the first clue.
A black SUV had been seen leaving the penthouse.
The plates were fake.
But the driver made one mistake.
He stopped at a gas station.
Security footage showed his face.
Marcus Vale.
I found him six hours later.
An abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn.
I entered alone.
Marcus stood beside a crib.
Willa was sleeping inside.
My heart nearly stopped.
“Step away from her.”
Marcus smiled.
“You look like your father.”
“I said step away.”
“You know why she matters?”
“Because you're afraid of her.”
He laughed.
“She's a Moretti heir.”
“She is my daughter.”
“That is precisely the problem.”
He reached toward the crib.
I raised my weapon.
“Touch her and you die.”
Marcus stopped.
Then something unexpected happened.
He smiled.
“You don't understand.”
“What?”
“I don't want her dead.”
I stared.
“Then why take her?”
“Because I need you.”
“For what?”
He placed a file on the table.
“Your mother lied.”
I opened it.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Willa wasn't the only child Sloan had given birth to.
There was another baby.
A twin.
My blood froze.
“Where is the other child?”
May you like
Marcus smiled.
“That's the question.”
Related Stories
