Vanessa. The name set off alarms. Anthea had mentioned this woman. Silas's ex-fiancée. The one who'd helped get Anthea deported.
"You pretended to be Anthea to get to me?" I sat up, demanding answers.
"You were too easy. A woman in her clothes, a few soft words, and you took the bait." She sneered, then unlocked her phone. "Let me show you something."
She tapped open a video and turned the screen toward me.
The footage was crystal clear. Me and her, on this bed... Every movement, every expression captured perfectly.
"What the fuck do you want?" I shouted, nausea churning in my stomach.
"Simple, Julian." She lowered the phone, her voice going cold. "I need you to help me kidnap Silas and Anthea's son."
My heart plummeted.
"You're insane. He's just a child!" My voice shook. "I won't do it. Don't even think about it."
"Oh no?" Vanessa casually threw on a bathrobe, waving the phone. "Then I'll send this video to Anthea. Let her see her most trustedchildhood friend in bed with the woman she hates most. What do you think she'll think of you then?"
My breathing stopped.
"You can't—" My lips trembled.
"Silas destroyed my family. Put my father in prison, locked up my mother, made me run like a stray dog. Now I'm going to make him taste the same thing." Her eyes gleamed with madness. She looked at me. "If you don't want Anthea to hate you, you'd better do what I say."
I felt drained of all strength.
Olei was Anthea's child. But also... Silas's child.
Just handing the kid over. Not murder. Not unforgivable.
And... it was Anthea's child with another man.
If she'd never had that baby for Silas, she wouldn't be trapped in any of this. She could've had a normal life.
"Fine. I'll do it." I heard myself say.
Vanessa's mouth curved with satisfaction.
"Smart choice." She turned toward the bathroom. "Remember, you just need to tell me where the kid is. I'll handle the rest."
The door closed. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, one thought circling my mind.
What the hell am I doing?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Anthea
The weekend sun blazed down, impossibly bright. Perfect weather to keep my promise—I was taking Olei to the park.
The park was full of easy, lazy shapes. Parents chasing kids across the grass, couples sprawled on picnic blankets soaking up the sun. I spread out the checkered cloth, ready to unpack the sandwiches and fruit from my bag.
Olei sat beside me, handing me things with focused concentration, like he was executing some critical mission.
"Mommy, are the strawberries washed?" He held up a container.
"Already washed, baby. Just set them next to me." I put the sandwiches on the blanket.
