Chapter 3
Edmund sat in the security room, his eyes bloodshot, glued to the screens.
For the first time, that bone-deep frustration and loss of control ate him alive because he couldn't find me.
In his mind, I was just throwing a tantrum, trying to get his attention in some pathetic way.
With that arrogant confidence of his, Edmund was convinced I'd come crawling back soon, broke and crying, begging him for help.
After all, where could a woman who'd just had a C-section and had nothing to her name possibly go?
Edmund ordered someone, with a look of contempt, to check my bank account.
But what he found hit him like a punch to the gut.
The 200 million dollar check had been cashed in less than an hour after I left the hospital.
Then, that massive sum was funneled through over a hundred offshore accounts in a way so intricate and sophisticated that it vanished without a trace, like a single drop swallowed by the ocean.
Seamless, clean, gone without a trace.
A cold sweat broke Edmund's back. He finally realized this wasn't just her running away from home.
This was an elaborate kidnapping scheme, meticulously planned to target him and the entire Wade family.
And the mastermind behind it all was the same woman he'd always thought of as meek, helpless, and easy to control.
For the first time after I vanished, Edmund finally took a real look at me.
Too bad, it was already too late.
Right now, I was hiding out in a secluded beachfront villa with Joanna.
Joanna had set this place up long ago, and the security was military-grade, absolutely untraceable.
Looking out through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows at the endless blue sea and golden sand, I felt a calm I'd never experienced in my life.
On TV, a news ticker was running nonstop about how the whole city's traffic had ground to a halt because of "system maintenance."
I was cradling one of the babies in my arms, awkwardly but seriously feeding him with a bottle.
With Joanna's help, the other three little ones were all settled safely in their cribs.
Joanna nearly fell off the couch laughing when she saw Edmund totally losing his cool on TV.
She said, "Isabelle, that move you pulled, talk about pulling the rug out from under him. Absolute genius.
"I can just picture Edmund right now. He's furious enough to want to tear someone apart, but he has no clue who to vent it on."
I smiled and gave the baby in my arms a gentle kiss. "This is just the appetizer," I said.
By the third day of the Wade family's citywide manhunt, they still had nothing.
Edmund's patience had been worn down to nothing. He sat in his office at the top of Wade Group, a dark cloud hanging over him.
On the floor were the shattered pieces of an antique vase worth a million dollars.
Everyone at Wade Group was walking on eggshells, barely daring to breathe.
Lydia walked in with a cup of pour-over coffee and set it down on his desk, moving with extra care.
"Edmund, don't worry too much. Ms. Sinclair probably just lost her head for a moment. She's a woman with a baby. She won't get far. Maybe she'll come back on her own soon," Lydia said.
Lydia's words sounded like comfort, but every single one only poured fuel on the fire.
What did she mean by "lost her head for a moment"? And what did she mean by "come back on her own"?
Was she hinting that I was mentally unstable, or that I was using the baby to threaten Edmund?
Edmund waved her off, irritation written all over his face. "Get out," he snapped.
Lydia's face went pale, but she obediently backed out of the office.
Just then, Edmund's private inbox received an encrypted email. The sender was anonymous.
He frowned and clicked it open. Inside was just a single photo and a single line of text.
The photo showed four tiny, soft little feet lined up together. They were so cute it could make your heart melt.
The background was a sunlit beach, bright and inviting.
And that line of text was like a cold blade, stabbing straight into Edmund's heart.
It read: [Mr. Wade, the air in your house is way too toxic. My kids couldn't handle it, so I took them out for some fresh air.]