“Kidnapped?” His eyes narrowed. “And whose fault is that? You can’t even watch your own daughter and now you’re blaming it on someone else?”
My chest cracked. “Seriously, Leandro? That’s what you’ll say to me? Our baby is missing and—”
A scream. Nadine clutched her stomach, blood staining her skirt.
Leandro’s face turned pale. “You bitch!” He slapped me so hard I tasted blood. “If something happens to her and the baby, you will pay!”
I staggered back. “What about Gwen? Are you going to let her die?”
But he didn’t hear me. He was already carrying Nadine, rushing her out like she was his whole world. Leaving me broken on the floor, abandoned, replaced.
That was when it hit me. He would never help me. Not him. Not ever.
With no money, no husband, no one left to turn to—I thought of only one person. The man I had once rejected. The man who never stopped waiting.
My hands shook as I dialed his number.
“Martin,” I whispered when he answered. My voice cracked, raw and desperate. “It’s me. Do you still want to marry me? If yes… then help me with the ransom for my daughter. I’ll do everything you say.”
“Martin,” I whispered when he answered. My voice cracked, raw and desperate. “It’s me. Do you still want to marry me? If yes… then help me with the ransom for my daughter. I’ll do everything you say.”
For a moment, silence filled the line. Then laughter—low, mocking, unkind—spilled from the other end.
“Wow,” Martin drawled. “So you finally came to your senses. Regretting choosing that bastard over me, aren’t you?”
I closed my eyes, breathing through the sting of his words. “If you’re going to laugh at me, and not help… then let’s not have this conversation again.”
“Alright, alright,” he said quickly, tone shifting, though I could still hear the smugness in it. “Don’t be so serious, Emerald. I’ll help. But remember your words. If I do this for you, then you’re mine. Forever. No running this time.”
“Yes,” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Just make sure my daughter will be safe.”
“Good girl. Send me the details of the kidnappers, and I’ll deal with it. Five days. Be ready—I’ll pick you up.”
And then the call ended. I stared at the phone in my hand, my fingers trembling, my mind screaming at me to hang up, to change my mind, to run. But what choice did I have? Being with my enemy back in college was better than depending on the man who swore to love me, only to replace me.