Livia intervened. “Enough. Let’s just find him!”
Security arrived quickly. Gates were locked, announcements blared, and every inch of the park was combed. Sebastian paced, shouting our son’s name, his voice raw. I could barely hold my phone; my hands trembled violently.
Then it rang. Unknown number.
I answered, heart pounding. “Adrian?” My voice cracked.
A pause—and then a chilling, unfamiliar voice spoke. “We have your boy.”
I froze. “Who… who is this? Where is he?”
“Ten million dollars,” the voice said flatly. “Transfer it now, or the child dies.”
I could barely breathe. “No… please…”
The line went dead.
I turned to Sebastian, tears streaming. “They have him. Ten million. They said if we don’t—”
“Ten million?” His face went pale as paper. “This is insane.”
I didn’t wait. My hands shook as I opened the banking app, transferring every cent I could access—every account emptied in a frenzy, driven by the primal instinct to save my child.
“I sent it,” I whispered, staring blankly at the phone. “They’ll return him.”
Minutes stretched into an hour.
Then the phone rang again. Same number.
“Send another five,” the voice demanded. “Or he dies.”
“I already sent it!” I screamed. “You said ten million!”