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
RICHARD’S POV I froze, my breath catching in my throat as the bang reverberated through the room. For a second, everything was still. Silent. I looked down. Blood. Not mine. William gasped, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the wound in his side. The gun slipped from his hand, clattering uselessly to the floor. I stumbled back, hands slick with blood, heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to explode. The sound of the gunshot kept echoing in my ears like a bad dream, but this wasn’t a dream. William—my brother—was bleeding out on the floor. “Shit,” I gasped, rushing toward him. “Will… Goddamn it, stay with me!” His face was pale, eyes half-closed as he struggled to breathe. Blood poured from his side, seeping through my fingers as I pressed down hard. Too hard. It didn’t matter. “You’re gonna be fine. Hear me? You’re gonna be fine. Just hold on.” He coughed, a weak, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Richard… you always… always screw things up, don’t you?” “Shut
RICHARD’S POVAmelia stared at me, her arms crossed, her eyes hard. I knew that look. It wasn't good.“He deserves whatever he's getting. Richard. You know that, right?"Her words hit me like a slap. I frowned, trying to keep calm. “Amelia, come on. He's still my brother. I know he messed up, but he's still family.” She shook her head, almost scoffing. "So what? Family doesn't mean you get a free pass to be a complete asshole and try to ruin someone's life.”I sighed, leaning back against the chair. "I'm not saying he should get a free pass. l'm just saying.. maybe he did what he did out of anger, or resentment, or-""Maybe?!" she cut me off, her voice rising. “Richard, he tried to kill you. He tied me up and used me as bait! I don't care if he was angry or resentful, that doesn't give him a damn excuse to behave like a psychopath!”I winced at her words. She wasn't wrong, but still… “Look, I know he crossed the line. A million times over. But people do stupid things when they're des
RICHARD’S POVDinner was quiet tonight. Too quiet. Amelia had barely touched her food, just pushing it around on her plate with this distant look in her eyes. I asked her if she was alright, and she’d just given me a tired smile and said she was fine. But something didn’t sit right. Still, I let it go, figuring she’d open up when she was ready.Upstairs, I lay on the bed waiting while she went into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, and I stretched out, hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. The day had been long, and I was looking forward to nothing more than a quiet evening with her, maybe watch some dumb movie and unwind.But then I heard it—a loud voice cutting through the silence, sharp and strained. It was Amelia. A cry, filled with pain.I sat up so fast, my heart instantly in my throat. “Amelia?” I called, already on my feet and moving towards the door. There was no answer, only a muffled groan that sent my pulse skyrocketing.“Amelia, are you okay?” I ask
RICHARD’S POV—THREE WEEKS LATER Arriving home with the bouquet in one hand and Amelia’s favorite snacks in the other, I hoped today would lift her spirits, even a little. She hadn’t been herself since...well, since the loss. Three weeks, and yet it felt like everything had been hollowed out.As soon as I opened the door, the tense vibe hit me like a wall. Amelia was sitting there on the couch, pale but trying to keep calm, while her grandmother loomed over her with that steely look. The minute she spotted me, her eyes narrowed like she’d been waiting for this.“Richard,” she spat, voice low and biting, “this is all on you. You should have done better. Protected her, watched out for her—”“Enough,” I cut in, barely keeping my voice steady. I didn’t want a scene, not in front of Amelia. But I couldn’t just let this go. “If you’re going to blame someone, find a mirror.”Her face twisted, anger flaring up, and for a second I thought she’d come closer. “How dare you,” she snapped. “How da