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
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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.”
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“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.
He loved Noah. Despite his mistakes, despite the years he’d missed, he loved our son.
And maybe, just maybe, that love would be enough to bring Noah home.
“Okay,” I said. “Then here’s what we’re going to do.”
I pulled up a document on my laptop and started typing.
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“What’s that?” Olivia asked.
“Our confessions.” I kept typing, the words pouring out. “Marcus wants us to destroy ourselves? Fine. We’ll give him exactly what he wants. Every mistake, every betrayal, every terrible decision we’ve ever made. All of it.”
“Aria”
“And while the world is watching us burn,” I continued, my fingers flying across the keyboard, “the FBI is going to use that time to find Noah. Because Marcus won’t be expecting us to cooperate so completely so he would let his guard down.”
Damien moved behind me, reading over my shoulder. “You’re going to admit to things you didn’t even do.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“You’ll lose everything. Your company, your reputation, possibly face criminal charges.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” I turned to look at him. “Do you?”
He held my gaze for a long moment. Then he reached past me and started typing on the document too, adding his own confessions below mine.
“Not even a little bit,” he said.
We worked in silence for the next hour, crafting our public destruction. Every shameful moment, every mistake, every regret–we documented it all.
And as the sun set over Ravenwood, casting long shadows across the penthouse, I realized something.
Marcus thought he was destroying us, but he was wrong. He was forging us.
In the crucible of this nightmare, Damien and I were becoming something we’d never been before. Partners and allies.
Maybe even something more. But that was a thought for another day. When Noah was safe, when this was over.
If it was ever over.
My phone buzzed with another message from the unknown number.
Nineteen hours remaining. I hope you’re working on those confessions. And Aria? Your parents want to talk to you. Should I give them your son’s location? Maybe they’d like to visit their grandson.
My blood ran cold.
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“He’s threatening to involve my parents,” I said, showing Damien the message.
“Your parents who threw you out when you were pregnant?” Damien’s voice was cold. “What could they possibly*
“Leverage,” I finished. “He’s collecting everyone who’s ever hurt us, using them to build
an army.”
“Or building an audience.” Olivia looked up from her phone, her face pale. “The livestream, it has gone viral. Five million views and counting. People are making memes. Calling it ‘the Blackwood Revenge Show: They’re treating this like
entertainment.”
Of course they were. Because to them, it was. Drama featuring the rich and powerful. A real–life soap opera with real stakes.
They had no idea that the terrified little boy on screen was real. That his tears were real. That every second he was with Marcus was another second of trauma he’d carry forever.
“Let them watch,” I said coldly. “Let them make their memes and their jokes. When this is over, when Noah is home safe, they’ll learn exactly what happens to people who treat my son’s suffering as entertainment.”
Damien’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and his face darkened.
“It’s Richard,” he said. “The board chair.”
“Don’t answer it.”
“I have to.” He answered, putting it on speaker. “Richard.”
“Damien.” The older man’s voice was strained. “I just watched that livestream. The whole board did, we need to meet immediately to discuss”
“I’m transferring control of the company to Marcus,” Damien interrupted. “As of tomorrow morning. Start preparing the paperwork.”
Silence.
“Damien, you can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”
“But the company”
“Is worthless if my son dies.” Damien’s voice was cold. “Get the papers ready, Richard. This isn’t a discussion.”
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He hung up before the board chair could respond.
“That’s it then,” Olivia said softly. “You’re really doing this.”
“We’re really doing this,” I corrected. “Both of us. Together.”
I looked at Damien, and he looked back at me and something passed between us. An understanding. Whatever came next, we faced it together.
For Noah.
Always for Noah.
My phone buzzed one last time. A final message from Marcus before the night ahead.
Sleep well, parents. Tomorrow, the whole world watches you bleed. And maybe, if you bleed enough, you’ll earn the right to see your son again.
Maybe.
I set the phone down and closed my eyes.
Eighteen hours until we destroyed ourselves.
Eighteen hours until we might get Noah back
Or lose him forever.
“We’re going to get him back,” Damien said, his hand finding mine. “I promise you, Whatever it costs. We’re bringing our son home.”
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