Chapter 3 - The Billionaire's Vengeance
For the next four days, the private wing of St. Jude's Hospital became my sanctuary and my war room.
Ethan had spared no expense. He rented out the entire floor, staffing it with his own private security personnel. To the outside world, and to Derek, Olivia Vance had vanished into thin air.
Every morning, I was wheeled in a wheelchair to the NICU to sit with my twins. I named them Leo and Maya. Watching their tiny chests rise and fall inside their incubators fueled the fire in my veins. Derek had been willing to freeze his own children to death to cover his debts. He had forfeited his right to be a father, and his right to be free.
On the fifth day, Ethan walked into my room carrying a sleek laptop. He set it on my tray table and opened it.
"You should see this," Ethan said.
It was a live news broadcast. There, standing on the steps of our suburban home, was Derek. He looked disheveled, his eyes red and puffy, though I knew he had rubbed them raw just for the cameras.
"It's been five days," Derek was saying to a local reporter, his voice cracking perfectly. "My pregnant wife is out there somewhere. Please, if anyone has seen Olivia... I just want my family back. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I just want her home."
I stared at the screen, feeling absolutely nothing for the man weeping on television.
"He deserves an Oscar," I muttered in disgust.
"He's playing the grieving husband to expedite the insurance claim," Ethan explained, leaning against the window frame. "Because you are missing and presumed to have met with foul play, the insurance company typically wouldn't pay out for seven years. But Derek is petitioning a judge to declare you legally dead due to the 'high-risk' nature of your disappearance, claiming he found a ransom note to force a payout."
"He forged a ransom note?" I asked in disbelief.
"He did. He handed it to the police yesterday. It demands two million dollars—the exact amount of the policy." Ethan tapped a button on the keyboard, bringing up a secure file. "But Derek made several fatal errors. He didn't realize that the warehouse he locked you in was recently acquired by a shell corporation... owned by me."
I looked up, stunned. "You own the warehouse?"
"I bought it three weeks ago. Derek didn't know the security system was upgraded. He thought he wiped the local DVR drives before he left." Ethan hit play on a video file.
The screen showed crisp, high-definition night-vision footage. It showed Derek walking me into the freezer. It showed him stepping out, his face completely devoid of emotion. It showed him typing in the override code, locking the door, and casually walking away.
"We have it all," Ethan said softly. "Attempted murder. Insurance fraud. Filing a false police report."
"Why haven't we given this to the police yet?" I asked, my fingers tracing the edge of the laptop.
"Because right now, the police just think he's a grieving husband. The syndicate he owes money to is getting impatient. If we reveal you are alive right now, he goes to jail for attempted murder, but the syndicate might still come after you or the children for his debts," Ethan explained, his tactical mind working ten steps ahead.
"So, what do we do?"
"We let him file the formal insurance claim. We let him commit federal wire fraud. We let the syndicate think he has the money. And then, we freeze his bank accounts, expose him to the feds, and let him realize that not only is he going to prison for the rest of his life, but his creditors are going to be waiting for him inside."
I looked at Ethan. He had completely upended his life, spent hundreds of thousands of dollars, and dedicated his empire to saving a woman he barely knew.
"Why are you doing all of this for me, Ethan?" I asked quietly.
Ethan paused. The hardened billionaire exterior cracked just a fraction. He walked over and sat on the edge of my bed.
"Seven years ago, Derek didn't just steal algorithms from me," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He leaked the data to a rival firm. In the fallout, my company's stock crashed. My fiancée at the time, Sarah, was driving to my office to console me. She got into a horrific accident on the highway. She didn't make it."
I gasped softly, covering my mouth.
"Derek didn't kill her directly," Ethan continued, his gray eyes dark with old grief. "But his greed set the dominoes in motion. I promised myself that if Derek ever tried to destroy another innocent life for his own gain, I would end him. When I saw him lock you in that freezer... I wasn't just saving you, Olivia. I was saving the part of my soul that died seven years ago."
May you like
I reached out and took his hand. His fingers were warm, strong, and calloused.
"Then let's end him together," I said.
