Chapter 5 - THE BROTHER THEY USED AS BAIT
Wyatt Holloway hated being treated like a child.
At sixteen, he was nearly six feet tall, had a talent for mathematics, and could repair a broken laptop faster than most adults could find its power button.
But since Marin's ordeal at the Vermilion, he had been forced to miss school, move between temporary accommodations, and endure the constant presence of security personnel.
He was furious.
Not because he didn't understand the danger.
Because he understood it too well.
His sister had spent years protecting him.
Now he wanted to protect her.
"You're not going back to that place," he told Marin over breakfast.
She smiled tiredly.
"I wasn't planning to."
"And you're not signing anything Hollis sends you."
"Agreed."
"And if that guy with the tattoos offers you a mansion, you're going to say no."
Marin almost choked on her coffee.
"Wyatt!"
"What? I've watched movies. This is how it starts."
She laughed for the first time in days.
But Wyatt's expression remained serious.
"Mar, I don't trust rich people who suddenly decide they care about us."
Marin looked down.
"Neither do I."
That afternoon, Wyatt asked permission to return to school.
Marin hesitated.
His classes mattered.
He was applying for a science scholarship, and missing too much school could jeopardize his plans.
After consulting Claire and the security coordinator, they arranged a safe transportation plan.
Wyatt agreed.
Mostly.
But by Wednesday, he was tired of feeling watched.
And when a message arrived on his phone claiming that his scholarship paperwork required an urgent signature at a nearby education office, he believed it.
The sender used his school's logo.
The email included his full name.
His application number.
Even the name of his guidance counselor.
Wyatt didn't realize the message was fraudulent.
He told the security driver he needed to stop at a pharmacy near the appointment location.
When the driver pulled into the parking area, Wyatt slipped away through the store's second exit.
He planned to walk two blocks, sign the paperwork, and return before anyone noticed.
He never reached the office.
At 3:17 p.m., Marin received a call.
It was the school counselor.
"Ms. Holloway, I'm calling about Wyatt."
Marin smiled automatically.
"Did he forget something?"
A pause.
"I'm afraid he didn't attend his final class."
Her smile vanished.
"What?"
"His teacher reported him absent."
Marin stood.
"That's impossible. He went to school this morning."
"We've contacted the transportation coordinator. They're looking for him."
Marin's hand began shaking.
She called Wyatt.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
She called the security driver.
He sounded panicked.
"Ms. Holloway, I'm so sorry. He said he needed medication, and I thought—"
Marin stopped listening.
Her stomach dropped.
She already knew.
Someone had used Wyatt's scholarship application to draw him away.
Within minutes, Enzo arrived.
He found Marin standing in the hotel lobby, clutching her phone.
She looked up.
"He's gone."
Enzo stopped.
"Marin—"
"They took him."
Her voice broke.
"Wyatt's gone."
Enzo approached carefully.
"Have you called the police?"
"Claire's doing it."
He nodded.
"Good."
Marin grabbed his coat.
"You said we'd be safe."
Enzo didn't move.
"I know."
"You said you could protect us!"
Her voice rose.
Several guests turned.
Marin didn't care.
"You have guards and cars and money, Enzo! You have everything!"
Tears streamed down her face.
"And they still took my brother!"
Enzo closed his eyes.
He could have defended himself.
He could have explained that Wyatt had left the security arrangements without telling anyone.
He could have insisted that the kidnapping wasn't his fault.
Instead, he said, "I'm sorry."
Marin stepped backward.
"I don't need you to be sorry."
"I know."
"I need Wyatt."
Enzo looked at her.
"Then we're going to help find him."
The police took statements, obtained the fraudulent email, and began tracing Wyatt's movements through available security cameras.
One camera showed him walking toward an office building.
A dark sedan stopped beside the curb.
Wyatt appeared to speak with someone near the passenger door.
Then he disappeared from view.
Marin watched the footage.
Her hands shook uncontrollably.
"He wouldn't just get into a stranger's car."
Detective Lena Brooks paused the video.
"We don't yet know whether he entered the vehicle. We're checking the next cameras along the street."
Marin looked at the frozen image.
Wyatt's backpack hung from one shoulder.
He wore the navy jacket she'd bought him after saving for two months.
It was the same jacket he had worn during his scholarship interview.
She covered her mouth.
"Please find him."
Detective Brooks looked directly at her.
"We're working on it."
That evening, Enzo received a message.
A photograph of Wyatt sitting inside a plain room.
His hands were free.
He looked frightened but apparently unharmed.
Below the image appeared a demand.
Return the payroll files. Withdraw the accusations. The boy comes home.
Enzo forwarded the message to the detective immediately.
Marin read it over his shoulder.
Then shook her head.
"No."
Enzo turned.
"Marin—"
"No. They don't get to do this."
Her voice trembled.
"They took my brother because they thought I was too poor to fight back. They humiliated me because they thought nobody would care."
She looked at the photograph again.
"And now they expect me to stay quiet?"
Enzo studied her.
"What do you want to do?"
Marin took a long breath.
"I want Wyatt home."
He nodded.
"And after that?"
She raised her eyes.
"I want every woman on that ledger to be free."
For the first time, Enzo saw something in Marin beyond fear and exhaustion.
Determination.
He had watched powerful executives collapse under less pressure than she had endured.
Yet here she stood, a waitress with no fortune and almost no resources, refusing to abandon strangers who had suffered the same injustice.
It reminded him of someone.
His mother.
The memory hit him so sharply that he had to look away.
That night, Claire called.
She had discovered a connection between the fraudulent scholarship email and an educational nonprofit partly funded by Soren Holdings.
Victor's organization.
The same group linked to the Vermilion's disputed employee agreements.
Marin felt sick.
"They used his dreams against him."
Claire nodded grimly.
"And that's why we need to preserve everything. Whoever sent the message may have left a trail."
At 11:42 p.m., Wyatt's phone suddenly became active.
Detectives were notified immediately.
A new message arrived from his account.
Mar, please don't give them anything.
Marin stared.
Then another message appeared.
I found something.
Her heart began pounding.
"What did he find?"
Before anyone could answer, a third message arrived.
A photograph.
It showed the inside of a filing cabinet.
A small brass plate was attached to one drawer.
The engraved words read:
CALIBRA FAMILY HOLDINGS — PRIVATE ARCHIVE.
Marin looked toward Enzo.
His face went completely still.
"What is that?" she whispered.
Enzo stared at the image.
Then answered in a voice she barely recognized.
"That's my father's old records cabinet."
Marin felt the room spin.
May you like
The people holding Wyatt had placed him somewhere connected to Enzo's own family.
And whatever her brother had found inside that cabinet was important enough that the kidnappers hadn't wanted him to see it.
