RICHARD’S POV Amelia sat across from me, talking excitedly about the plans for the party. She had everything organized, down to the last detail. It was impressive, honestly. She was in full control. “So, we’ve got the caterers booked, the venue’s set, and I’m thinking of adding a photo booth. What do you think?” she asked, her eyes twinkling. “I think you’re a damn genius,” I replied, smiling. “You’ve got this all handled.” She beamed, leaning back in her chair. “Thanks. But enough about the party. How was your day?” I shrugged, thinking back to the homeless woman and her daughter. “I helped out a homeless family today. Bought them a flat. Well, twenty flats, actually.” Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Twenty?” I chuckled. “Yeah, I had to spend $10 million, so I figured I’d put it to good use. Gave her a key and told her to fill the other flats with people in need.” She stared at me for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re something else, you know that?” “What can I say?
Richard's POV I told Amelia to take it easy, especially with the pregnancy news still fresh. But of course, she insisted on finalizing the wedding plans. So, I let her go—against my better judgment—and promised to pick her up by 11 for the doctor's appointment. I could tell she was excited, but still, I didn’t want her overdoing things. Stress isn’t exactly the best thing right now. After a few hours at the office, I wrapped up some meetings and decided it was time to pick her up. I called her phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Odd, I thought. She usually answers right away. No big deal. She’s probably still wandering around the mall, buying more wedding stuff or, hell, maybe baby stuff. It’s Amelia, after all. I shrugged it off and headed inside, figuring I’d find her easily. The mall was packed, though. Too many damn people. I called again, but no response. Now I was starting to get a little annoyed. Where could she be? I walked around the stores, peeking in windows, hopin
RICHARD’S POV I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “Look, I’m just trying to find my wife. The CCTV footage might help me figure out where she went.” The manager raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of feigned surprise. “Wow, I’m honestly surprised someone married you. No offense, but I didn’t think you had it in you.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Can we get back to the point? I need to see that footage.” She crossed her arms, leaning back slightly like she was about to enjoy a show. “What’s in it for me, Richard? You know how these things work. You can’t just waltz in here and expect to see whatever you want.” Impatience surged through me. “What do I need to do to see the CCTV footage?” “Well,” she said slowly, drawing it out for dramatic effect, “it’s going to cost you. I’m thinking… $1 million.” My jaw dropped. “A million? Are you kidding me?” “Nope,” she replied, a smirk playing at her lips. “That’s the price for a peek at my precious footage.
RICHARD’S POV Cathy didn’t even bother acknowledging me directly. Not that I minded. I could see her gears turning from across the room, her cold gaze fixed on the woman beside me. Without even glancing at me, she interrupted the manager. “If what you’re saying is true, it’ll be on the CCTV footage, right?” The manager blinked, her face paling slightly. “Well... yes, but—” Cathy raised her hand, silencing her. “Good. So you’ll have evidence to back up everything, won’t you?” There was a brief, awkward silence. The manager’s confidence seemed to deflate like a balloon. “I—uh—well, of course,” she stammered, now visibly sweating. “If what you’re saying is true,” Cathy cut in, arms crossed and eyes narrowing, “then it’ll be in the CCTV footage.” She waved a dismissive hand, like the matter was already beneath her attention. “We’ll have evidence to back it up.” The woman who’d been making a scene earlier shifted nervously. Her confidence faltered, and I could almost taste her fear.
RICHARD’S POV The detective, a tall, no-nonsense type, had been assigned to my case within an hour of my arrival at the station. His name was Detective Harris, and from the look on his face, I could tell he wasn’t new to these kinds of situations. I didn’t have the energy to care about his experience, though. All that mattered to me was finding Amelia. As we drove back to my house, the weight in my chest grew heavier. The policemen in the backseat exchanged brief looks, and I could sense they thought this might be one of those "runaway wife" situations. But I knew better. Amelia didn’t just vanish. She was taken. I could feel it. When we arrived, Harris wasted no time. “We’ll search the house,” he said, stepping out of the car. “Maybe something here will give us a clue about where she went.” I scoffed, following him inside. “She didn’t ‘go’ anywhere, Detective. She was taken. You’re wasting time.” Harris gave me a flat look. “We need to cover all our bases. If she left on her own
RICHARD’S POV Morning came quicker than I wanted. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my own reflection, trying to calm my nerves. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I had to keep it together. Today was the day. The bag of fake cash sat on the bed, looking too light for the weight of what was at stake. I picked it up, slinging it over my shoulder like I was just going to the gym. If only it were that simple. The police were already outside, setting up, tapping into my phone like we’d planned. I headed out, feeling the cold air hit me as I got into my car. The drive to the location was tense, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I knew they were following me. Harris was in an unmarked car a few blocks back, probably sipping coffee like this was just another day for him. The location was a grimy parking lot, empty except for a few abandoned cars. The place looked like the kind of spot you’d find in a crime movie, the kind where not
RICHARD’S POV We arrived at the building, and it looked dead—no lights, no signs of life, just an old, worn-down structure. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t have time to feel fear. Not when Amelia was in there. Somewhere. The police moved quietly, guns raised, signaling me to stay back. But there was no way in hell I was sitting this one out. As we entered the place, it smelled of damp wood and dust. My stomach churned, my instincts screaming that something was wrong. But then, just as I was about to dismiss the silence as a bad sign, I heard it—a voice. One I recognized. I froze. Was that…? “Goddamn it!” The voice was angry, echoing through the hollow space. “The bastard’s smarter than I thought. Papers! Can you believe this shit?” He was yelling into the phone, furious about something. The guy kept going on and on, cursing me for filling the bag with papers instead of the ransom money. I crouched behind a half-broken wall, trying to get a better listen, my breath sha
RICHARD’S POV “William," I said out loud. His body stiffened. He turned slowly to face me, his mask still on, but I knew it was him. The way he moved, his voice earlier—it all made sense now. “Take off the mask, man,” I said, my tone calm but laced with anger. “I know it’s you.” For a second, William didn’t move. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled the mask off, revealing that familiar face. There was a twisted smirk on his lips, his eyes gleaming with hatred. I hated how much we looked alike—same damn smirk, same sharp features. “Smart as always, aren’t you, Richard?” he spat, lifting a gun and pointing it straight at me. “But not smart enough.” Great, now two guns were aimed at my head. Just another day in paradise. I grinned at him, trying to ignore the sweat dripping down my back. “William, c’mon. I don’t want trouble. I just want Amelia. Give me my wife, and I’ll walk out of here. No drama.” William let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, you’re funny. Rea