The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Losing our Minds

Aria POV

For a moment, the penthouse was completely silent.

Then Damien stood abruptly, his chair toppling backward, and let out a roar of pure rage. He grabbed a lamp and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall.

"Damien" Olivia started.

"He wants me to destroy everything!" Damien shouted. "Fine! It’s done! I’ll burn it all down! Just give me back my son!"

"Damien, stop." I was on my feet too, grabbing his arm before he could destroy anything else. "Breaking things won’t help."

"Nothing helps!" He whirled to face me, and I saw the desperation in his eyes. "He has Noah. He’s hurting him. And we’re just sitting here."

"We’re not just sitting here." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "We’re going to do exactly what he wants."

"What?"

"The company, the confession, all of it." I met his eyes. "We give him everything. And then we get Noah back."

"You heard him," Olivia interjected. "He said ’maybe.’ He’s not guaranteeing Noah’s safety even if you comply."

"I know." My hands were shaking but my mind was clearing. "But we don’t have another option. The FBI can’t find him, our security teams can’t find him. All we can do is play along and hope"

"Hope isn’t enough!" Damien’s voice broke.

"It has to be." I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. "Listen to me. We do what he wants. We give him his revenge. And while he’s gloating, while he’s distracted by his victory, we find Noah. We save him."

"How? We don’t even know where Marcus is keeping him."

"Then we figure it out." I released him and turned to Olivia. "That video. Can the FBI analyze it? Look for clues about the location?"

"Already on it," Olivia said, her phone in her hand. "I sent it to Agent Sarah the moment it went live."

My phone buzzed as more texts flooded in.

Unknown numbers, news outlets. Everyone who’d watched the livestream.

And one message that made my heart stop.

It was from Vivian.

Watched the show. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it? Enjoy losing everything like I lost Damien.

I stared at the message, fury building in my chest.

"What?" Damien asked, seeing my expression.

"Nothing." I deleted the text. "Just vultures circling."

But something Vivian said stuck with me. Like I lost Damien.

Marcus wasn’t just after revenge on Damien and me. He was going after everyone who’d ever wronged him. Everyone who’d taken something from him.

"Damien," I said slowly. "Who else did your father hurt? Besides you and Marcus?"

"What?"

"Your father exiled Marcus. He abused you emotionally. Who else?" My mind was racing. "Your mother died when you were young. Were there others? Family members? Business partners?"

"I don’t see how"

"Marcus isn’t working alone." I paced, the pieces coming together. "He had a team waiting with harnesses. He had surveillance on my penthouse. He knew exactly when the FBI would arrive, this is too coordinated for one person."

Damien’s eyes widened. "You think he has accomplices."

"I think he has allies. People who hate your family as much as he does." I turned to Olivia. "Can you get me a list? Everyone connected to the Blackwood family who had a falling out or disappeared suddenly?"

"I can try, but"

"Do it." I was already moving, grabbing my laptop. "If we can figure out who’s helping Marcus, we can find Noah."

"That could take days," Damien protested. "We have twenty-four hours."

"Then we work fast."

My phone rang it was Agent Sarah.

"Ms. Monroe, we need to talk about that livestream," she said without preamble. "Do you understand what Marcus is asking you to do? If you publicly confess to crimes"

"I don’t care about legal consequences," I cut her off. "I care about getting my son back."

"But"

"No buts. I’m doing what Marcus wants. If that means destroying my reputation, my company, everything I’ve built, so be it. Noah comes first."

There was a long pause. Then Agent Sarah sighed.

"The video analysis is underway. We’ve identified some potential markers—background sounds, the type of concrete used, lighting patterns and are narrowing down possible locations."

"How narrow?"

"Still looking at a hundred-square-mile radius in three different states. I’m sorry, Ms. Monroe. Without more information"

"Then get more information." I hung up.

Damien was watching me, something like awe in his expression.

"What?" I snapped.

"You’re magnificent when you’re furious," he said quietly. "Even terrified out of your mind, you’re still fighting."

"Of course I’m fighting. He’s my son."

"Our son," Damien corrected gently. "And I’m fighting too. Whatever you need. Whatever it takes."

I looked at him—really looked at him. At the guilt and desperation and determination in his eyes. At the way his hands were still shaking, at the blood seeping through his bandages.

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