Chapter 7
I acted fast.
I called the nanny immediately and told her to stay inside the main house, lock every door, and wait for security. I dispatched three extra teams to surround the property, plus two helicopters to monitor the roads.
“Find him before he gets close,” I ordered. “And do not let him get anywhere near that house.”
Within forty minutes, they located his car, parked off the side of the highway a few miles away. But Daniel was not inside.
“He must have walked the rest of the way,” Marcus said. “He knows the land—he grew up there.”
We raced to the estate. By the time we arrived, the sky was turning dark. Floodlights were switched on, illuminating every corner of the grounds.
We found him near the back gate, hiding in the trees, holding a large blanket and a duffel bag. He had a crowbar in his hand, ready to force his way in.
Security tackled him before he could get close. He fought wildly, yelling my name, screaming that Grace belonged to him.
I walked out to stand a few feet away, watching as they restrained him.
“You have no right here anymore,” I said. “The judge ended it. Accept it and stop destroying your life.”
Daniel spat on the ground. “You think you can take everything from me? My family, my money, my daughter? I’ll spend every penny I have left to fight you. I’ll hire lawyers, private investigators, anyone who will help. You will never rest easy, not as long as I’m breathing.”
They dragged him away, and this time the judge refused any further bail. He was held in a maximum-security facility, far from the city.
But his words stuck with me.
He was right—they wouldn’t stop just because of court rulings.
I increased security everywhere—around the penthouse, around the estate, around Grace’s daycare, around my office. I installed hidden cameras in every property I owned. I hired a team of private investigators to follow every move Patricia and her associates made.
For three months, things stayed quiet.
Too quiet.
Then Clara came to me with a troubling report.
“Patricia sold most of her remaining assets and withdrew every dollar from her accounts,” she said. “She has no money left in the country. She also sold her penthouse and her car. It looks like she’s preparing to leave.”
“Leaving?” I said. “Why would she give up so easily?”
“Unless she’s planning something bigger,” Clara replied. “If she can’t win here, she might try to take Grace somewhere far away where our laws don’t reach.”
My blood turned cold.
“Track her every move,” I said. “If she tries to board a plane, stop her immediately. If she tries to leave the state, arrest her for obstruction of justice.”
Two days later, our alert system went off.
“Patricia is at the private airport,” Marcus reported. “She has a boarding pass for a flight to the Cayman Islands. And she’s not traveling alone—she’s with a woman who matches the description of a caregiver we fired last month.”
“Get there now,” I said. “Stop that plane before it takes off.”
We reached the airport just as the aircraft was taxiing toward the runway. Ground control stopped it.
When we boarded, Patricia was sitting in first class, her bags beside her. The woman with her had a small child’s bag in her lap—but no baby.
I walked up to her.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
Patricia looked up, a cold smile on her face. “I have no idea what you mean. I’m just going on vacation.”
But Marcus checked the plane’s manifest, then scanned the luggage compartment. Taped inside a large suitcase was a hidden tracking device. He opened it, and found not Grace—but a stuffed bear and a blanket from her nursery.
“It’s a decoy,” Marcus said. “She knew we’d track her. This was just to lead us away.”
My heart sank.
I realized then—while we were rushing to the airport, her real team was moving somewhere else.
My phone rang.
It was the head of Grace’s security detail at the office.
May you like
“Ms. Reed,” he said, voice shaking. “We were just ambushed. Three masked men with tasers. They overcame the guards. They took the baby. They left a note.”
---
