“Hello, this is Amara speaking. I want to proceed with filing for a divorce.”

The silence on the other end stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, the kind that makes your chest tighten even when your decision is already carved in stone.

“Ms. Amara,” the lawyer finally replied, his tone measured, hesitant. “I need to be clear with you. If you legally separate from Mr. Aldrin, you walk away with nothing. The house will remain his. The company shares stay with him. Even the vehicles under his name—you won’t be entitled to any of it.”

I shut my eyes and let his words settle. Nothing.

Strangely, it no longer frightened me.

What was there left to lose, anyway? Not after the man who promised to protect me became the one who ordered my pain. Not after he stood by while I was broken and called it discipline. Not after he refused to save the very child we created together.

“That’s fine,” I replied calmly, even as my heart thundered against my ribs. “I don’t want anything from him. Send the papers tomorrow—on our wedding anniversary. Let it be my present to him.”

Before he could say another word, I ended the call.

My hands were still shaking when I dialed Joseph’s number. He picked up immediately, his voice brisk and alert.

“I need to know,” I said, swallowing hard. “Where’s Sienna? Is she truly safe?”

There was movement on his end, then his voice softened. “Talk to her.”

A second later, the sound I’d been aching for filled my ears.

“Mommy?” Sienna’s tiny voice trembled, soft and unsure, like she was afraid I might disappear again.

Tears blurred my vision instantly. “Baby… Mommy’s here. Are you hurt? Did anyone scare you?”

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “Why can’t I come home? Why aren’t you with me?”

I pressed my lips together, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Because Mommy is fixing something important, sweetheart. But I promise—very soon, we’ll be together again. You just have to be brave for a little while longer, okay?”

“Promise?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“I swear it,” I said softly. “Mommy will never leave you. Just wait for me.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

My chest broke open. “I love you too, Sienna. More than anything in this world.”

The call went quiet, and then Joseph came back on the line. “You heard her. Satisfied now?”

I let out a shaky breath. “Thank you. I just needed to know she was real… that she was okay.”

“Good,” he replied. “Then don’t forget our agreement. Tomorrow. Be ready.”

“I will,” I whispered, ending the call and pressing the phone against my chest like it was my last lifeline.

But the peace didn’t last.

A voice behind me sliced through the air. “Who were you talking to just now?”

I turned sharply.

Aldrin stood in the doorway, his eyes sharp, suspicious, already accusing.

I forced my lips into a smile. “I’m making funeral arrangements for Sienna. Since you won’t help me, I figured this is how it ends.”

His jaw tightened. “So that’s it? You’re giving up on her instead of begging me?”

My breath came uneven. “You want me to beg? For our daughter?”

“Yes,” he said coldly, stepping closer. “If this isn’t one of your tricks, then prove it. Kneel. Kiss my shoes if you have to. Show me you’re innocent.”

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. “No. I’m done humiliating myself for you.”

I brushed past him, but his voice boomed behind me. “You’re walking away from me now?”

“Yes,” I answered without turning back. “Because you don’t deserve to be Sienna’s father.”

His mouth curved into something ugly. “Suit yourself. At least she won’t inherit anything. And you—” his eyes dragged over me with venom “—you won’t give me another child anyway. After Sienna, you’re barren. So really, this is your loss. You’re nothing to me now.”

The words cut deep, but I lifted my chin. “Then you won’t miss me when I’m gone.”

Before he could say more, Bianca’s shrill scream echoed from the hallway.

“Aldrin! Please—my stomach hurts! Take me to the hospital!”

His attention snapped to her instantly, panic flooding his face. “If you leave this house, Amara,” he warned over his shoulder, “your punishment will be worse. Make sure everything is ready by tomorrow. Important investors are coming. Don’t disappoint me again.”

I smiled tightly. “Of course.”

He rushed away with Bianca clinging to him, leaving me alone among the wreckage of a marriage that had long since died.

But I didn’t prepare for his investors.

Instead, I canceled every supplier. I walked into his office, copied his presentation onto a flash drive, and erased the original from his laptop. If Aldrin wanted chaos, I would make sure he drowned in it.

By sunrise, I was gone.

Joseph’s black car arrived at dawn. He stepped out, smug and confident, like a man who already knew the ending. “Ready to leave?”

I nodded, gripping my bag tightly.

The moment I stepped onto the private plane, my legs gave out.

Sienna was there.

“Mommy!” she cried, running straight into my arms.

I collapsed onto the floor with her, holding her as tightly as I dared, tears soaking into her hair. “You’re safe… Mommy’s got you. You’re safe now.”

Behind us, Joseph’s voice carried, amused and triumphant. “Welcome back to me, Amara. Just remember—freedom always has a cost.”

For once, I didn’t care.

Sienna was with me. That was all that mattered.

Before the plane took off, I pulled out my phone and stared at it for a long moment. Then I removed the SIM card, my hands trembling, and flung it out of the open window just before the engines roared to life.

Aldrin’s POV

The sterile white walls of the hospital felt suffocating. Bianca lay on the bed, her face scrunched in pain, her hand clutching her stomach. I paced beside her, restless. The doctor stood at the foot of the bed, flipping through charts with an irritating calmness.

“Mr. Jones,” he said finally, lowering his glasses. “We’ve run the tests. There’s nothing wrong with her. The baby is fine. No complications.”

My brows knitted together. “Nothing wrong? Are you sure?” I looked at Bianca, then back at him. “She’s in pain. She said her stomach hurts. Don’t just tell me it’s nothing.”

The doctor sighed. “It’s likely stress. Or indigestion. Or maybe just a reaction. We’ll keep her here for monitoring, but physically, she and the baby are healthy.”

I turned to Bianca, my jaw tightening. Something didn’t sit right. Her face was pale, her lips trembling—yet it reminded me too much of before, the same theatrics she pulled the last time she thought I was drifting away.

“Are you playing with me?” I asked, my voice low, dangerous.

Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide. “What? Of course not! Why would I ever play with you?” Her voice broke, almost offended. “Aldrin, my tummy really hurts. Why would I lie about that?”

I leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know. Maybe because you saw me talking to Amara? Is that it? Are you trying to get my attention because I was busy with her, or did you think I was actually caring for her again? If that is, stop it. I know you!”

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re getting mad at me—because of Amara? Because you thought I was making this up? Well, I’m not, so are you serious right now?” She raised her voice, sitting up straighter despite the supposed pain. “Aldrin, she’s not even here. And you’re thinking of her? What about me? What about our baby?”

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to calm down. “No, that’s not what I mean.” I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. “She was supposed to arrange everything at the house for the investors, that is why I am talking to her, and I being here doesn’t help because I need to be there to check. Everything needs to be ready. I can’t waste time here.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “And what about me?”

“You can handle yourself,” I muttered, already standing. “The doctor said you’re fine. I need to go. You can handle yourself… and I’ll just come back once you're discharged,”

Her hand shot out to grab my wrist, but I pulled away. Her voice cracked behind me as I left. “Aldrin, don’t you dare walk out on me!”

But I was already gone.

When I arrived at the house, the first thing that hit me was the silence. The place was dark, no lights, no sound of workers preparing, no clatter of glasses or footsteps. Just stillness.

“What the hell is going on?” I barked, storming inside. My shoes echoed against the marble floors, the grand chandelier above unlit, casting the room into shadows.

The butler hurried after me, looking nervous.

“Why is the place dark? Where’s everyone?” I demanded.

“I-I don’t know, sir…”

“You don’t know?” My voice thundered through the hall. “Are you insane? Then start knowing! Find out what the hell is happening right now!”

We scoured the rooms. Nothing. Not a single staff member. The house was in chaos, furniture unpolished, dishes unwashed. My stomach churned as I realized the investors were due in mere hours, and the house looked like a deserted ruin.

I pulled out my phone, dialing Amara’s number. Straight to voicemail. Again. And again. No answer.

My rage boiled. Where the hell was she? This was her responsibility. She couldn’t even do one thing right.

Then the butler returned, holding a folded note. “Sir… I found this.”

I snatched it from his hands. The handwriting was unmistakable.

“Sir, Ms. Amara said we could all have the night off. She dismissed us.”

My grip tightened, the paper crumpling in my hand. “She dismissed them? On the eve of the most important night of the year?!” I threw the note across the room. “Damn it, Amara!”

Before I could rage further, the doorbell rang. Relief flickered for a second. Maybe it was her. Finally.

I yanked the door open.

It wasn’t her.

A delivery boy stood nervously, holding a medium-sized box. “Package for Mr. Jones.”

I tore it from his hands, shoving him away before slamming the door. Setting it on the table, I ripped it open.

My world stopped.

Inside was an urn. Cold, gray, heavy. And a letter taped to the side.

“Since you failed to deliver the money, here are the ashes of your daughter.”

My knees weakened. The room spun.

“No…” My voice cracked. My hands trembled violently as I held the urn. “No, this isn’t real… this is a joke. A sick joke.”

My breath came in shallow gasps. My daughter. Sienna. My baby girl.

Dead?

I refused to believe it. They were bluffing. They had to be. Kidnappers used fear—it was their weapon. They wouldn’t just kill her. They wouldn’t—

But what if they had?

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head over and over. “She’s not dead. She can’t be. They’ll give her back. They’ll—”

My phone rang, jolting me. Unknown number. I answered immediately, voice ragged. “Hello? Sienna? Is she alive?”

The voice on the other end was calm. Too calm. “Is this Mr. Aldrin Jones?”

“Yes!” I snapped. “Why are you calling me?”

“This is the police,” the officer replied. “We’re calling to inform you that Mrs. Amara Jones has been found dead. Her car collided with a twelve-wheeler truck earlier this evening. I’m… I’m sorry.”

The phone slipped from my grip, crashing to the floor.

Amara.

Dead.

Sienna. Gone.

The urn felt like fire in my hands, yet I couldn’t drop it. My breath came in broken sobs, rage and denial warring inside me.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me.

Not like this.