Natalie’s soft words felt like a sharp knife slicing deep into Anathea’s heart. “Greg’s exhausted from last night and just fell asleep. I don’t think I should wake him up. How about you try calling back later?”

Anathea’s grip loosened. Her phone slipped from her hand, landing on her lap.

The two abductors seemed to have anticipated this reaction. They wore smug expressions as if they were watching a show.

“What the hell? Your husband is sleeping with another woman?” Seamus Boone, the heavyset man, clicked his tongue.

“It seems you’re not important to him at all,” Frankie added.

His words dug into the wound in Anathea’s chest, making her struggle to breathe.

Of course. Gregory had always loved Natalie. Wasn’t it perfectly normal for them to be together?

“Then she’s nothing to Mr. Sinclair, right?” Frankie shot Anathea a disdainful glance. “What a hassle. Might as well just let me screw her now.”

“Don’t be in such a rush. We’re not done yet.” Seamus glanced at the message on his phone. A meaningful look flashed in his eyes before he suddenly asked, “Doesn’t she have a son?”

At the mention of Xander, Anathea’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. She couldn’t shake the image of Xander walking away from her and running toward Natalie.

Would he care if he knew she was abducted? He was the child she’d nearly given her life to bring into this world, after all.

“Call your son,” Seamus ordered.

Anathea remained motionless.

Noticing her hesitation, Seamus leaned down and looked her dead in the eye. He asked, “Don’t you want to see how your son will react to seeing his mom abducted? I wonder if he cares about you.”

His words were like a trigger, stirring the faintest spark of hope still buried deep inside Anathea.

She struggled for a moment, then, driven by a flicker of desperate hope, dialed Xander’s smartwatch.

When the video call connected and she saw Xander’s face, a brief moment of joy flickered in her eyes. “Xander—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Seamus suddenly clamped his hand around her throat and shouted into the screen at Xander, “Watch carefully. This is your mom! If you don’t save her, she’s as good as dead!”

Seeing such a fierce and menacing expression and hearing those words, any typical five-year-old would be scared into tears.

But Xander simply stared at Anathea in the video, as if sizing her up. His small brows furrowed slightly.

“Xander!” Anathea’s face reddened from the suffocation, yet she was worried about Xander. “Don’t be scared.”

“She’s not my mom,” Xander’s voice rang out, devoid of emotion, as though the woman on the screen was a total stranger.

His words struck Anathea like a hammer, knocking the wind out of her. She felt dizzy.

“Look carefully. Isn’t she your mom?” Seamus grabbed the knife from Frankie’s hand and pressed it against Anathea’s throat. Raising his voice, he continued, “If she’s not, I’ll slit her throat right here. You’ll lose your mom!”

Xander stared at Anathea through the screen.

Anathea watched his reaction carefully. How could any child not care about their mother’s life?

But Xander was the exception.