Zeke’s POV

Driving to Kamille’s house, I berated myself for my handling of the situation. I was in a video meeting with high-profile investors when Rogers repeatedly interrupted with reports of an emergency call from my security team. Annoyed and distracted, I told Rogers to handle it, assuming it was another minor issue.

Minutes later, he returned, pale, with Kamille on the line. That’s when I realized the severity of the situation. I excused myself and ended the meeting immediately.

Outside my office, Rogers’ words hit me like a ton of bricks. “Your kids have been kidnapped,” he said, his voice trembling. “They were in an accident, and an ambulance appeared and vanished without a trace.”

My face burned with rage. “Why didn’t you tell me how serious this was?” I demanded.

“I tried, Mr. Reid, but you were in the meeting…”

“Damn the meeting!” I snapped, grabbing my phone and answering Kamille’s call. “Kamille?”

Her frantic cries filled the speaker: “Zeke, our babies… our little babies…”

“Kamille, stay put. I’m on my way,” I said, my voice shaking.

“But my babies…” Her cries continued, followed by the sound of glass against tile.

“Okay, listen to me,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Stay where you are and try to stay calm.”

“Hurry, Zeke. Please,” she said before the call ended.

I frantically contacted every security contact I had, including the State Security Service. Desperation gnawed at me. I even called my father, begging for help.

His response was predictable. “If anything happens to my grandkids, I won’t forgive you, Zeke,” he roared, adding to my guilt.

I sped through traffic, my foot heavy on the gas, picturing the sound of breaking glass and fearing Kamille might harm herself. “Please, Kamille,” I muttered.

I reached her house in record time, leaping from the car and rushing to the door. I rang the doorbell frantically.

Kamille’s tear-streaked, pale face broke my heart. Without thinking, I embraced her tightly. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

She pushed me away, her eyes wild with despair. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

I frowned, confused. “It will be fine, Kamille. We’ll find them.”

“No!” she screamed, her voice raw with anguish. “I want my babies! I need you to find my babies!” She sobbed uncontrollably.

Then I saw her bloodied hands. A wave of icy fear washed over me. “Kamille, did you try to hurt yourself?” I asked, my voice shaking with anger and worry.

She looked down at her hands, shocked. She started crying again, calling out, “Royer! My babies!”

Fuck! I cursed inwardly.

My anger melted into fierce protectiveness. “Time to get you out of here,” I said, lifting her into my car. I drove her to one of my penthouses, where the kids had stayed for dinner.

She cried herself to sleep in the car, her sobs subsiding only with exhaustion. Once we arrived, I summoned a doctor. He arrived quickly and examined her while I paced, my mind racing.

“It’s mild shock,” the doctor said. “She didn’t realize she’d hurt herself.”

I nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anger. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

After the doctor left, I tucked Kamille into bed. She looked exhausted. Only one person would orchestrate such a reckless scheme. And it takes two to tango.

I went outside and called Belle, Kamille’s friend. I needed someone Kamille was comfortable with to be with her when she woke up.

After a few rings, she answered. “Hello,” I said.

“Mr. Reid?” Belle asked, confused.

“Yes,” I replied hoarsely. “I need your help.”

“What do you need me to do, Mr. Reid?”

“I’ll send you the address to one of my penthouses. I need you to stay with Kamille tonight,” I said calmly.

Belle sounded concerned. “What’s going on, Mr. Reid?”

“Just get here,” I said curtly.

“Okay, Mr. Reid, I’ll be there soon,” she replied. I ended the call.

Next, I called Zane. “I need you to come watch over Kamille. I have some scores to settle,” I said. The call connected immediately. He’d likely already heard what happened, and I didn’t have the patience to explain.

“Okay, brother, I’ll be there soon,” he replied and hung up.

With Zane there, Kamille and I would be safe. With Belle, Kamille would be comfortable.

I returned to Kamille’s side, watching her sleep fitfully. Her face was tear-streaked, and she mumbled about the children. My heart ached for her. I had to find our children and bring them home safely.

Belle and Zane arrived shortly after. Belle looked at Kamille, then at me. “What happened?” she asked softly.

“The kids were kidnapped,” I said bluntly. “Kamille’s in shock. I need to find them.”

Zane stepped forward. “We’ll take care of her, Zeke. Do what you need to do.”

I nodded, grateful for their support. I leaned down and kissed Kamille’s forehead. “I’ll bring them back,” I promised, though she couldn’t hear me.