Chapter 3 · My Husband Called The Kidnapping A Joke

Chapter 3

Maybe it was the raw despair in my eyes, or maybe he finally saw how close I was to breaking down, but Leon's expression softened a little.

My hands were shaking so badly as I fished out my phone, my fingertips icy cold. The screen lit up, and a new video with a location tag popped up right away.

It was sent by the kidnapper, less than a minute ago.

I frantically tapped play and held the phone up in front of him, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.

"Please, look. Open your eyes and see for yourself. That's Timmy. That's our son. He's really been taken. This isn't a trick," I sobbed, pointing at the screen, my voice shattered, every word choked with pain and desperation.

Leon frowned, still doubtful, but took the phone and pressed play hesitantly.

The next second, Timmy's terrified, heart-wrenching cries echoed through the room. "Mom, help me. I'm so scared. I want to go home."

Timmy was tied to a chair with thick ropes, his mouth sealed with tape, his face blotchy and purple from crying, his eyes overflowing with terror and helplessness.

The background was a dim, rundown house. The kidnapper's icy voice followed right after. "If the money isn't in my account by four o'clock sharp, you can start planning his funeral. No more crap."

The video ended, and the living room fell silent; even breathing sounded loud.

Leon's face changed in a flash, shock wiping away his doubt. He jerked his head up to the clock on the wall, his eyes widened.

There were only four minutes left.

My eyes were red, tears streaming down as I stared at him, my voice so hoarse it was barely audible. "It's real and fresh. We can get divorced. I don't want a single cent. I don't want anything. Give me the phone and let me transfer the money. Please, let me save our son."

Leon, who had been so tough moments ago, swallowed hard, his hand shaking as he held the phone.

But Nina snorted and jumped right back in. She folded her arms, laughing with pure contempt, her eyes practically dripping with venom and calculation.

She sneered, "Wow, you really got skills. Only to move the family money, you'd even coach your own kid to fake a kidnapping. Look at how real those tears are. She must've coached him, and even picked some dump to shoot the video, to trick us."

Nina walked right up to Leon, her tone firm and manipulative. "Don't let her fool you, Leon. This is all her act. No kid would cry like that unless he was coached.

"She's always hated having us around, thinks we're a burden. Now she's using this to grab all the money, not leaving a single cent for my kid and me."

Nina kept playing the victim, turning to me with fake outrage in her eyes. "To kick us out, you'd use your own kid as a tool? Where's your conscience? How can you even call yourself a mother?"

Leon's face, which had started to soften, instantly hardened again. All his hesitation vanished, replaced by suspicion and anger.

Leon completely lost it, shoved the phone back in his pocket and barked at me, his tone brooking no argument, "Stop this. From beginning to end, this is all your made-up story."

Chapter 3

Maybe it was the raw despair in my eyes, or maybe he finally saw how close I was to breaking down, but Leon's expression softened a little.

My hands were shaking so badly as I fished out my phone, my fingertips icy cold. The screen lit up, and a new video with a location tag popped up right away.

It was sent by the kidnapper, less than a minute ago.

I frantically tapped play and held the phone up in front of him, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.

Leon frowned, still doubtful, but took the phone and pressed play hesitantly.

The next second, Timmy's terrified, heart-wrenching cries echoed through the room. "Mom, help me. I'm so scared. I want to go home."

Timmy was tied to a chair with thick ropes, his mouth sealed with tape, his face blotchy and purple from crying, his eyes overflowing with terror and helplessness.

The background was a dim, rundown house. The kidnapper's icy voice followed right after. "If the money isn't in my account by four o'clock sharp, you can start planning his funeral. No more crap."

The video ended, and the living room fell silent; even breathing sounded loud.

Leon's face changed in a flash, shock wiping away his doubt. He jerked his head up to the clock on the wall, his eyes widened.

There were only four minutes left.

Leon, who had been so tough moments ago, swallowed hard, his hand shaking as he held the phone.

But Nina snorted and jumped right back in. She folded her arms, laughing with pure contempt, her eyes practically dripping with venom and calculation.

Nina walked right up to Leon, her tone firm and manipulative. "Don't let her fool you, Leon. This is all her act. No kid would cry like that unless he was coached.

"She's always hated having us around, thinks we're a burden. Now she's using this to grab all the money, not leaving a single cent for my kid and me."

Nina kept playing the victim, turning to me with fake outrage in her eyes. "To kick us out, you'd use your own kid as a tool? Where's your conscience? How can you even call yourself a mother?"

Leon's face, which had started to soften, instantly hardened again. All his hesitation vanished, replaced by suspicion and anger.

Leon completely lost it, shoved the phone back in his pocket and barked at me, his tone brooking no argument, "Stop this. From beginning to end, this is all your made-up story."