Chapter 9 - My Father Disappeared
The blood belonged to my father.
Police confirmed that within an hour.
Not enough to suggest a fatal injury.
Enough to terrify me.
His phone lay smashed beneath the car.
His security guard had been struck unconscious.
A traffic camera showed a black van leaving the area.
Preston’s attorney denied involvement.
Of course.
Roman wanted to handle it his way.
I knew what that meant.
“No.”
“Eleanor.”
“No disappearing men. No basements. No revenge.”
“My methods produce answers.”
“And bodies.”
His expression hardened.
“Your father may have hours.”
“So we find him faster.”
“How?”
I forced myself to think.
Preston wanted Northstar.
He wanted leverage.
Dad was leverage.
Therefore Dad was alive.
Probably.
That word nearly broke me.
Chloe sat on the sofa shaking.
I knelt in front of her.
“He’s coming home.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
I held her hands.
“But Preston wants something. That means Dad matters alive.”
Roman watched us.
Then his phone rang.
Private number.
He answered on speaker.
Preston.
“I want Eleanor.”
Roman’s face went cold.
“You don’t get her.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
I stood.
“I’m here.”
Preston laughed softly.
“Finally.”
“Is my father alive?”
A voice sounded in the background.
Dad.
“Eleanor, don’t—”
The line muffled.
My knees weakened.
“Dad!”
Preston returned.
“He’s alive.”
“What do you want?”
“Northstar transfer documents.”
“I can’t transfer it yet.”
“You turn thirty in six weeks.”
“You kidnapped my father six weeks early?”
“I plan ahead.”
Roman looked murderous.
Preston continued.
“You will sign a binding commitment to transfer controlling development rights to a company I designate upon your birthday.”
“And Dad?”
“He walks away.”
“Where?”
“I’ll contact you.”
The call ended.
Roman said, “Absolutely not.”
I looked at him.
“I’m signing.”
“No.”
“I’m not giving it to him.”
He paused.
I continued.
“I’m making him believe I will.”
We built a contract.
Real enough to survive Preston’s lawyers for several minutes.
Fake enough to collapse once scrutinized.
Sofia hated every second.
“This is criminally close to fraud.”
“Preston kidnapped my father.”
“I said close.”
Preston chose an unfinished waterfront hotel outside Providence.
Of course he did.
Dramatic architecture apparently appealed to sociopaths.
I arrived alone.
At least visibly.
Roman hated that too.
“You have a microphone.”
“Yes.”
“Tracker?”
“Yes.”
“Emergency signal?”
“Yes.”
“If something changes—”
“I know.”
He caught my hand before I left the vehicle.
I looked at him.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then:
“Come back.”
Not “be careful.”
Not “follow instructions.”
Just come back.
“I will.”
Inside, Preston waited beside floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking black water.
Dad sat in a chair.
Hands bound.
Bruise on his temple.
Alive.
Relief almost destroyed my plan.
“Eleanor.”
Dad struggled.
“Don’t sign anything.”
Preston smiled.
“Family loyalty. Very moving.”
I held up the folder.
“Release him.”
“After.”
“No.”
Preston frowned.
“I sign after I touch him.”
“Why?”
“To know he’s real.”
He laughed.
“You always were dramatic.”
“And you always underestimate me.”
His expression sharpened.
Still, he allowed it.
I walked toward Dad.
Dropped to my knees.
Touched his face.
“You okay?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
I hugged him.
And slipped a tiny tracking tag beneath his collar.
Then I stood.
Preston opened the contract.
He read quickly.
Too quickly.
He signed his acknowledgment.
Then handed me a pen.
I signed.
Eleanor DuPont.
My real signature.
The contract itself was legally void because Preston’s company name contained one deliberate error.
Kensington Atlantic Holdings LLC.
His actual company was Kensington Atlantic Holding LLC.
Singular.
Sofia assured me that alone might not save us.
The kidnapping evidence would.
But we needed him to take the document.
Preston smiled.
“See?”
He touched my cheek.
I forced myself not to recoil.
“You always come back when you understand consequences.”
Dad shouted.
“Don’t touch her!”
Preston looked at him.
Then slapped him.
Everything inside me exploded.
But I stayed still.
Roman’s voice came through my earpiece.
“Eleanor.”
A warning.
Preston turned toward me again.
“I told you marriage would have been easier.”
“No.”
I smiled.
“It would have been quieter.”
He frowned.
I tapped my bracelet.
Police breached the building.
Preston’s face changed.
He grabbed my arm.
A gun appeared in his hand.
Chaos erupted.
I heard Roman shout somewhere below.
Preston pulled me backward.
“Stop!”
Police froze.
The gun pressed against my side.
Dad screamed my name.
Preston dragged me toward a stairwell.
“You stupid bitch.”
There he was.
The polished mask finally gone.
“You planned this?”
“Yes.”
“You think Moretti saves you?”
“No.”
I looked him directly in the eyes.
“I saved myself.”
Then I drove my heel down onto his foot.
Hard.
He flinched.
I twisted exactly as the security trainer had taught me.
The gun moved away from my body.
Police rushed forward.
Preston fired.
The shot exploded through the hallway.
I fell.
For one horrifying second I thought I had been hit.
Then I saw Roman.
He stood three steps behind Preston.
One hand pressed against his shoulder.
Blood spreading through his white shirt.
“Roman!”
Police tackled Preston.
The gun skidded away.
I crawled toward Roman.
He dropped to one knee.
“No.”
I caught him.
His face had gone pale.
“Stay with me.”
He actually smiled.
“You sound bossy.”
“Shut up.”
“That too.”
Paramedics rushed in.
I held his hand.
For the first time since this began, I completely lost control.
“Roman, look at me.”
“I am.”
“You’re going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I hate when people say that.”
He gave a faint laugh.
May you like
Then his eyes closed.
And every sound in the building disappeared beneath my scream.
