I didn't close my eyes all night. I couldn't.

My body was drained, but my mind refused to stop. It kept replaying everything over and over, like a broken record.

The nanny's call, Nicholas's rage, the man who looked like a delivery person, the quietness in the house was suffocating; their room, desolate and cold. 

The triplets were still missing.

And Nicholas still hadn't looked me in the eyes.

He circled the living room like a lion waiting to strike, barking orders into his phone, yelling at every security agent, nanny, and household worker. 

I stood in a corner, trembling with exhaustion, my body refusing to move, yet too restless to sit.

Everything hurt-my head, my heart, my body.

Yet above all, it was the guilt that consumed me.

I knew it wasn't entirely my fault because I didn't harm the children. 

I didn't hand them to anyone, my only mistake was leaving them behind to see my Mother. 

I wasn't there when I should've been. 

And Nicholas... 

Nicholas had found the perfect reason to unleash everything he had bottled against me.

"Still standing there like a lost puppy?" His voice was sharp and cruel. 

"Or are you finally ready to confess how much you enjoy ruining my life?"

My body jerked.

"I've already said I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

He chuckled coldly, walking closer. 

"Sorry?" he repeated. 

"You were 'sorry' the day Vivian died, too. Funny how every problem seems to lead back to you, and your only response is sorry."

My eyes burned unbearably. "Stop it."

"No," he let out a loud yell. 

"I won't stop, not until you take responsibility. You were entrusted with their care, yet you stepped out, and now three innocent children, my children, are missing". 

"Do you have any idea what that means?"

"I didn't abandon them!" I shouted back, unable to hold it in anymore. 

"I needed air...I needed to breathe for just a moment"

"You don't get that privilege anymore," he interrupted, his voice lowering, harsher now. 

"The moment you signed that surrogacy contract, you became connected to them, whether you like it or not. You think you could birth them and walk away? That I'd let someone like you, careless and manipulative, be free?"

His words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the breath out of me.

"Why are you doing this?" My voice shook, low and trembling. 

"Is it because you want to hate me so badly that you've forgotten what grief feels like?"

He leaned closer, his face inches from mine. 

"Don't talk to me about grief, Ava. I buried my wife. Now my kids are gone. If there's a curse following me around, it wears your face."

I gasped, like I'd been slapped. 

I wanted to scream, to cry, to hit him, but I did none of it. 

I just stood there, frozen, as he walked away and slammed the door to his study.

Everything went silent once more. Only now, it was heavier and dragged me down.

Almost deadly, nearly taking my life.

***

I went into the triplets' room again, searching through drawers, looking for anything, any clue, any hint, or anything they could've taken with them or something someone could've left behind.

Nothing.

I found their little pyjamas still on the bed. 

A stuffed giraffe was laying on the floor. I hugged it to my chest and fell to my knees.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. 

"I'm so, so sorry."

I didn't know how long I stayed like that, but my phone vibrated again.

It was a message from a private number.

"You shouldn't have left them alone. You'll regret it."

My heart nearly stopped.

I screamed and rushed to Nicholas's study, shoving the phone into his face. 

"Look! Someone just sent this. 

They know!"

He grabbed the phone and read the message. 

His face hardened.

"Trace it," he told someone on the line. 

"Find whoever sent this, now!"

Then he turned to me, and for a second, just one second, something shifted in his eyes.

Was it a worry? Panic? Regret?

It disappeared too quickly for me to tell.

An hour passed, then two.

Every corner of the house buzzed with tension.

They went over the security footage once more. 

Nicholas had people calling every hospital, checkpoint, orphanage, and police station. 

His lawyer showed up. 

Then his P.A (Anna).

Yet no one said a word to me.

I was invisible.

Or maybe just not important enough to be involved.

When I walked downstairs to check in, Nicholas glared at me like I had no right to breathe the same air. 

"Go upstairs," he ordered. "I don't want you here."

"But I can help"

"You've helped enough."

His voice was sharp and dangerous.

But in his bold blue eyes, hid something new I hadn't seen before.

Fear.

***

That night, I stayed in the triplets' room again, crouched low on the ground beside their beds. 

Every noise made me sit up. 

I saw hope in every shadow, it felt like it could carry my babies back to me.

At 2:36 a.m., I heard someone open the door. 

I stayed still, barely breathing.

Nicholas stepped in.

He didn't say a word. 

He just walked to the middle of the room and stared around like a restless spirit.

After a long silence, he muttered, "Vivian loved the kids even before they were born."

"She sang a lullaby to them, saying lullabies helped them sleep better."

I sat up slowly. 

"I remember. I tried doing the same sometimes."

He looked at me for the first time. 

"You think this is easy for me? Do you think I want to blame you?" His voice broke soft and slowly. 

"But I'm scared out of my mind. I don't know where to look anymore. And you're the only one left to blame."

I swallowed hard. 

"Then hate me if you must, but don't shut me out."

His stare remained fixed on me for a long moment.

Then he turned and walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

***

Morning came.

Still no news.

The police began questioning everyone again-especially me.

Nicholas didn't defend me. 

He didn't interrupt when they suggested negligence.

But when I walked into the living room, I overheard him yelling into his phone: 

"If anything happens to my kids, I swear I'll burn this damn city down!"

His voice shook, not from anger but from fear.

At 11:23 a.m., another text came through. 

This time on Nicholas's phone.

He read it in front of me.

"If you want them back, stop playing hero. We're watching."

He looked at the message for several seconds before slowly lifting his head to meet my eyes.

For the first time since this all began

Nicholas froze, fear rooting him in place.

And then he whispered, raw and low.

"They're not after the kids, Ava. 

They're after us."

Nicholas didn't move. He just stood there, rigid, his jaw tight, his hand still gripping the edge of the table.

The light from the hallway caught half his face, sharp enough to show every line of strain and anger. 

Yet, for the first time, his silence didn't feel loud. It felt suffocating. 

His silence wasn't waiting for a storm to come. It was the storm itself.

He hadn't spoken since the phone call with the authorities ended.

"Nicholas," I whispered, standing behind him, with my arms folded to steady my trembling hands. 

"Say something... please."

He turned slowly, and when his eyes locked with mine, I wished he hadn't. 

They had no softness in them, only fury.

"You think a blanket can erase what you did?" 

His voice came very low, calculated, yet bitter enough to break me. 

"Do you even understand what this is to me?"

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. No words came.

"I didn't plan for this. I didn't ask for the triplets to-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence or say the word 'missing' again like it's casual. Like they're misplaced documents. They are children. My children," he voiced out, harsh and sudden.

"And they're mine too!" I shot back without thinking.

His eyes fluttered. 

Once, Twice. Shocked, I couldn't help but confront him.

I regretted it immediately.

"No, Ava," he said with a bitter laugh. 

"You were a womb, a temporary vessel". 

"That was the contract, wasn't it?" 

"You weren't supposed to feel anything but now you're here, emotionally invested yet irresponsible enough to walk away and leave my kids vulnerable to God knows what."

"I went out for forty-five minutes!" I yelled. 

"I left them with someone you approved! A licensed nanny! I didn't dump them in the woods!"

"Don't twist this," he said, grinding his teeth as he spoke.

"This isn't about your damn errands; this is about your judgment. I entrusted you, I gave you space in my house. In their lives. You held them, fed them, smiled at them, yet you failed them in the most crucial moment."

The words landed heavy, stronger than any slap.

My voice broke. 

"You think I don't feel guilty? You think I'm not dying inside every second, wondering where they are, if they're crying, if they're cold, if they're alive?"

He stared at me for a long time. 

"I think you always find a way to make their  pain about you."

Then he walked past me, down the hall, and into the study, slamming the door shut.

And just like that, I couldn't hold back the sob in my throat anymore.

I dropped to the ground onto the cold marble, knees to my chest, then pressed my hands against my ears, trying to shut out the sound of his words replaying like a cruel song.

"A womb. A temporary vessel."

God. 

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was just a contract. 

But my heart didn't get the memo.

I cared so deeply it felt like my chest would break.

***

The next morning was unnaturally quiet.

The house had never felt so empty, no crying, no giggles, no tiny footsteps echoing down the hallway.

The kids room door remained closed.

Nicholas hadn't come out of his study. 

Not once. 

The staff walked on eggshells, and the air in the house was thick with fear and guilt.

The police returned with updates, but nothing conclusive. 

No ransom calls, no camera footage, no witnesses. Nothing.

Like they vanished into thin air.

And the silence between Nicholas and me turned into a wall I couldn't climb, no matter how I tried.

Still, I tried.

I knocked on his study door. "Nicholas... please. Just talk to me."

No answer.

I left him food, water, and updates, but he never responded.

By the third day, I stopped trying.

But on the fourth, he surprised me.

I was on the couch, flipping through old photos of the triplets, my chest ached, every picture was a wound reopening when he entered the room. 

He looked tired. 

Rough, hair messy, shirt rumpled, and eyes hollow, like the light inside him had been stolen overnight.

He said nothing for a few seconds.

Then he whispered, "Have you eaten today?"

I nodded, surprised.

"Liar," he said softly. 

Then sat across from me.

"I thought you were done with me," I said quietly, trying not to fall for the slight softness in his tone.

"I am done with you. But I'm not done with them," he said. 

"And right now, you're the only one who might still know anything that could help."

His words burned, but I understood.

I sat straighter. 

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything, every phone call, every place you went, every interaction you had this week. I want to know which nanny you spoke to, and who she let into the house. What was the last time she saw them? I want every detail, no matter how small."

I let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Okay."

I told him everything, every damn thing I could recall. Even things I didn't think mattered. 

Nicholas scribbled notes, eyes sharp and focused.

"I'll have them back," he whispered under his breath. 

"Even if I have to rip the world apart."

The fire in his voice made something inside me ache.

The Nicholas I once feared wasn't cruel, he was simply a man who had lost too much to risk losing more.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

A text.

He read it.

His jaw clenched. 

"What is it?" I asked.

He stood slowly, turning the screen to show me.

Private Number: 

"You took something from me. Now I've taken something from you. I hope you enjoy the fun. Don't forget your time is ticking. Tick, tick."

I went cold all over.

Nicholas froze, staring at the message with  eyes wide like he'd seen a ghost. 

Then he whispered, "This isn't random..."

"What do you mean?"

His lips pressed together.

"I have enemies, Ava. Enemies that smile in boardrooms and strike in shadows. Someone wants revenge, and they're using the only leverage I have left."

I stood too. 

"You think someone you wronged took them?"

He nodded once.

And then?

He looked me dead in the eyes and said

"And now you will help me get them back- whatever it costs."

Nicholas's words hit me like thunder.

"And now you will help me get them back- whatever it costs."

The way he said it, calm but dangerous, made it clear this wasn't a request.

It was a final judgment. And I was now part of a war I didn't start but was somehow central to.

"Whatever it costs?" I repeated, my voice shaky. 

"What does that mean?"

He turned away from me, moving to the cabinet behind the bookshelf and opening a hidden panel. I didn't even know it existed. 

He pulled a black box and a file from it, thick, old, and sealed with a weak leather strap.

He tossed the file onto the table, the contents clinking together.

"It means you'll learn things you were never meant to know about me. Things that'll make you question everything, especially why someone would use children as leverage."

I stepped back. 

"Nicholas, what is this?"

He stared at me, grinding his teeth together. 

"This is the other half of my life, Ava. The part that built this mansion. That funded those children's futures. The part Vivian never liked asking about."

I looked at the file, then back at him. 

"Why now?"

He came closer, voice low. 

"Because whoever took my kids knows me, not just the billionaire, the man, the mistakes. They're not targeting my name; they're targeting my past."

He opened the file containing names, photos, locations, and transactions.

A chill shot through me.

Black-market deals. 

Property handovers in countries I didn't even know existed. 

Signatures. 

Alias names.

Pictures of people I'd never seen, some looked bruised, some beaten.

"What is this?" I whispered.

Nicholas didn't flinch. "Leverage"

He pushed the file closer to me. 

My fingers trembled as I turned one page, then another. 

Some documents were contracts written in foreign languages, but the names were familiar people from Vivian's charity foundation. 

A man I'd once seen shaking hands with Nicholas at an awards gala, A woman who had smiled too brightly during the funeral.

"These people... they worked for you?"

"They worked with me," he corrected. 

"But loyalty has a price, and when money speaks louder than blood, people switch sides."

The weight of silence filled the air.

"You were involved in this?" I asked.

He nodded. 

"Years ago. Before I met Vivian before I knew what life was like with children, back when I believed building an empire meant getting my hands dirty and keeping my heart locked away."

"And now?"

His eyes collided with mine. 

"Now, I'm paying for every secret I buried."

I stood there, the file open between us like an open sore. 

My mind raced with questions I wasn't ready to ask, but one word repeated in my mind.

"Do you think... someone you trusted took them?"

His silence was answer enough.

I backed away, my stomach twisting. 

"And you think I can help with this? Nicholas, I don't even know where to start!"

"You don't need to," he said, standing. 

"You just need to follow me."

He moved toward the hallway, not waiting for me to catch up. The fury in the way he moved made it clear this wasn't just about the kids. 

It was about setting things right.

I followed him out of the study, my bare feet walking slowly against the cold marble. 

We entered another room, smaller, windowless, filled with screens.

"This is the surveillance room," he said flatly.

 "Everything gets recorded here. Every car that enters. Every call that is made from inside this house."

He indicated to the screen on the left. 

It was paused on the footage from the night of the triplets' disappearance. 

I held my breath.

"They didn't break in," I said softly. 

"That car was let in."

He nodded. 

"Someone had access. Which means it was an inside job."

I watched the footage closely. 

The driver wore a cap, and sunglasses. Not even the high-quality zoom could catch their face.

"Who was on duty that night?" I asked.

Nicholas pressed the keyboard. The guard's ID showed up.

"Marco," he said. "New hire, cleared background and no history. But he's gone now. Left that same night."

"You think he was planted?"

"I think he was bought."

We stared at the screen, the same scene repeating; the car entering, headlights blinding, the guard waving it in like it was routine.

I drew in a sharp breath. 

"What do you need me to do?"

He turned to me, his eyes darker than I'd ever seen. 

"Pretend like nothing's changed. Stay here, play your part and watch everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Yes, maids, all staff, Vivian's friends and even my board members, if they show up."

My heart raced in my chest. 

"You think the betrayal goes that deep?"

"I think this isn't about ransom. It's about revenge."

He handed me a tablet, on it were pictures of ten people. All familiar faces. All the people I'd smiled at in passing.

"These are my suspects," he said. 

"But I need you to be the eyes I can't use. They won't talk to me. But you? You're innocent to them. They'll underestimate you."

"Is this even legal?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," he said. 

"But neither was stealing my children."

I gripped the tablet, bile rising in my throat. 

"What happens if I find the person?"

He drew closer to me, his voice was cold and sharp.

"Then I make them pay."

I couldn't breathe.

The Nicholas I met when I signed that surrogacy contract was cold, guarded, and controlled.

This Nicholas? He was terrifying in a new way.

Broken, raw and willing to burn the world to get his kids back.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to ask why I had to be part of this, but something deep inside whispered that I'd already crossed the line the moment I gave birth to those babies.

They weren't just Nicholas's anymore.

They were mine too.

And if this was the only way to bring them home, then so be it.

Even if it meant facing my worst fears or the kind of danger I'd only seen in nightmares.

***

That night, I couldn't sleep.

The file tormented me in my mind. 

The faces. 

The bruises. 

The silent screams on paper. 

Nicholas's calm voice telling me about leverage like it was just business.

But mostly, the way he'd looked at me when he said, "You're innocent to them."

I wasn't sure that was true anymore.

I rose before sunrise and walked down the empty hallways. Everything was so quiet that the air felt so suffocating.

Then I heard it - a soft sound. A door creaks shut near the eastern wing.

I stood motionless.

That part of the mansion had been off-limits since the kids went missing.

Nicholas said it was being kept sealed for the investigation.

So who was in there?

I tiptoed forward, careful not to make a sound. My fingers gripped the tablet he'd given me, using it like a mirror to check the hallway around the corner.

A shadow moved, someone tall and broad.

I hid behind the curtain.

They stopped at the corner and then sneaked through a side door to the kids room.

My heart almost stopped.

No one was allowed in there.

I waited, counting the seconds.

One. Two. Three.

The door creaked again.

I rushed out, ready to confront whoever it was, but the hallway was empty.

Gone.

Like a ghost.

I looked down the corridor. I found nothing.

But when I stepped closer to the kid's room door, I noticed it wasn't locked.

My hand shook as I reached for the knob and slowly pushed it open.

Inside, the bedsheets were untouched. The toys were still in place.

But a single envelope sat on the centre bed, the one where Ivy used to sleep.

My knees nearly gave out.

I walked over and opened it with trembling hands.

Inside was a photograph.

The triplets.

Alive.

Sleeping.

And a note written in cut-out letters that screamed horror film:

"Stop digging. Or the next picture won't be so peaceful."

My eyes filled with shock then my fingers went cold.

A sound behind me made me spin, but no one was there.

I pressed the photo to my chest, heart racing.

They'd been here.

Someone had been inside the house again.

Watching.

Mocking.

I wasn't just part of the game anymore.

I was being hunted.