Chapter 80

Aiden

Connor ended the call, his face grim, devoid of hope. My stomach plummeted; the tension in the room was suffocating.

“The last call to Freya’s number was from a burner phone,” he said, his voice steady but heavy with implication.

“A burner phone!” I repeated, my mind racing. Burner phones weren't used for innocent reasons. They were for anonymity, secrecy, and often something sinister.

“And the car?” I asked sharply, clinging to a shred of hope.

“They’re checking the CCTV footage,” Connor said, his tone offering little assurance. “They ought to hurry up. Bloody useless bastards,” I mumbled, fuming. My fists clenched, and I felt like screaming. Every second felt like an eternity.

“Aiden, calm down,” Connor commanded, his voice steady.

I turned on him, my panic and anger erupting. “I can’t fucking calm down! I can’t be calm until I know where she is!” My voice cracked, vulnerability piercing my efforts to remain composed.

I cursed under my breath and slumped onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. My mind was a storm, conjuring the worst possibilities. Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she…

No. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the images assaulting my sanity. I couldn’t afford to…

“Aiden,” Connor called again, softer this time.

“What?” I snapped, looking up sharply.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he nodded toward the staircase. My heart lurched as I followed his gaze. Gia stood there, her small frame clutching her beloved stuffed panda. Her wide, innocent eyes held worry, nearly shattering me.

“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice a fragile sound in the chaos of my mind.

I forced myself to sit up straight, taking a deep breath. “Come here, sweetie,” I croaked, forcing a gentle tone.

She slowly descended the stairs, her small feet silent on the carpet. She stopped before me, her small fingers gripping the panda tightly. “Where’s Mommy?”

The question hit me like a punch. How could I answer when I didn't know? I gulped, fighting back panic.

“She went to visit a friend,” I said, attempting a weak smile.

“Mommy’s Auntie Reyna?” she asked, tilting her head.

“No, another friend,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady.

“But Mommy doesn’t have friends,” she said, frowning in confusion.

I offered a soft, hollow smile. “An old friend from her school. She’s in town for the weekend, so Mommy went to see her.”

“When will she come back?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Soon, I guess.” I stroked her hair gently, trying to control the tremor in my hands. “Go to your room and play, okay? We have something important to discuss.”

Gia hesitated, her eyes searching mine, as if sensing the turmoil beneath my calm exterior. Then she nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly, returning upstairs.

As her footsteps faded, I breathed shakily, my head falling back against the couch.

7:01 AM

Her footsteps faded, leaving an unsettling silence broken only by approaching steps. Reyna entered. Her face was pale and drawn, her usual confident stride replaced with hesitation.

“Hey. You’re Connor?” she asked, her eyes darting between us.

“Yes,” Connor said curtly. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.

“Reyna,” she said hastily, nodding to Connor before turning to me. “So, what’s the update?”

Her words felt like a demand I couldn’t fulfill. I stared blankly, unable to articulate the void we faced. How could I explain the fear gnawing at me?

“The call was from a burner phone,” Connor repeated for her benefit. His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it, his frown deepening. “And that car number is false.”

“That means she was kidnapped!” Reyna exclaimed, her voice trembling as she voiced the unspoken fear.

“It feels like it, but we don’t know for sure,” Connor said, his tone clipped but honest.

The air thickened. I despised this powerlessness, the agonizing uncertainty. It felt like a failure on my part.

Reyna’s eyes swept the room, pausing on the staircase. “Where’s Gia?”

“Upstairs,” I muttered, guilt pricking at me. I’d sent her away to protect her, but what kind of father was I to hide this?

“Does she know anything?” Reyna pressed.

“Do I know anything? What will I tell her?” My irritation flared. My chest heaved with frustration. Reyna’s expression showed understanding, but I still snapped, “Don’t push me right now.”

Reyna remained calm. She shook her head. “Her mother arrived last Sunday. Could it be…?” She hesitated. “I mean, she might have left because she learned her father is ill or something!”

Her suggestion stung, unwelcome yet plausible. If Freya had gone to see her father, why the secrecy? Why the switched-off phone? But her mother? That woman was capable of anything. My mind raced through sinister scenarios. I could almost hear Freya’s voice, urging me not to jump to conclusions. But what choice did I have?

“We’re groping in the dark,” Connor muttered, interrupting my thoughts.

I clung to his words like a lifeline. “You have a better idea?” I snapped, desperate for a lead.

“Yes,” he said steadily. “We can get the CCTV footage from inside Meringue and get a professional lip reader to analyze her side of the conversation. Maybe we can find something.”

My chest tightened at the thought of her in the café, unaware of the danger. I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Just as Connor moved, Carlos entered, his expression unreadable. “There’s a delivery for you,” he said, looking at me.

My heart pounded as I rushed to the door. Was this it? A ransom note? A clue?

Outside, a young delivery man stood awkwardly, holding a box. His uniform was too large, his face a mask of boredom.

“Who is this from?” I asked urgently.

He checked his phone. “Freya Wilson…”

“What? Where is she?” My question tumbled out, desperate and nonsensical.

The delivery man blinked, confused. “I don’t know, sir. This was a scheduled delivery.”

My heart twisted. A scheduled delivery? I signed for the box without looking at him as he left.

7:01 AM

I set the box on the table, wondering if it might explode. Reyna watched intently; Connor scanned it, assessing possibilities.

I opened the box, my hands shaking. Inside, a beautifully arranged gift: a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“Is it your birthday or something?” Reyna asked.

“No,” I said, my voice hollow. My birthday was months away.

I picked up a glass, and saw it. My breath hitched. In golden italics, the word "Daddy" gleamed. I picked up the other: "Mommy."

A wave of realization crashed over me. My legs nearly buckled.

“She’s pregnant,” I whispered. “We’re having a baby.”

The air left the room. I clung to the table, reeling from shock, joy, fear, and overwhelming grief. Freya had planned this surprise. She’d envisioned a celebratory moment, not this. I stood paralyzed, knowing she was out there, alone and vulnerable, carrying our child.

My knees buckled; I leaned against the wall, head down. “This was going to be…” I couldn’t finish. The start of something happy. A new chapter. And it had become a cruel joke.

Connor stepped forward, gripping my shoulder. His face remained tough, but his resolve had softened. “We will find her,” he said, his voice steady and unwavering. For Gia. For the child we hadn’t even met. We would find her.

I nodded, swallowing hard, forcing myself to stand taller. I had to believe him. For Freya. For Gia. There was no other option.