Chapter 173
Chapter 173
ARIA
The hospital corridor's harsh fluorescent lights hurt my eyes. Time froze in that moment. Dr. Ryan removed his mask, the exhaustion and regret in his eyes telling me everything.
"We did everything we could," his voice sounded raw. "The bullet damaged the main artery. Too much blood loss... I'm sorry."
Olivia's scream tore through the hallway. She collapsed to the floor, covering her face, curling into a ball. I felt Blake's arms around me but couldn't feel their warmth.
Matthew was gone. The man who always smiled, who just told me "hang on, I'm sorry"—he'd left us forever.
"This was murder," Blake's voice came cold and determined. "Emma pulled the trigger, but Alex orchestrated everything."
I nodded, grief hardening into icy rage. "They both need to pay. Emma did it, but Alex is the real killer."
"I'll make sure they both get what they deserve," Blake promised. "For Matthew."
I stared toward the hospital room, tears blurring everything. I said nothing, but Blake and I reached an unspoken agreement—Alex would answer for his crimes.
Over the next two weeks, we launched our offensive.
Blake mobilized every Morgan Global resource to crush Alex's empire. We canceled all projects with his companies and pressured partners to do the same. His stock plummeted by the hour.
Meanwhile, our investigators dug through Alex's past. Every shady deal and secret surfaced one by one.
"Check this out," Blake said one evening, showing me a document in his office. "Proof that Alex bribed that sales associate Amanda."
I took the file. My stomach turned. The document detailed how Alex arranged for someone to approach Victoria and exploit her promiscuity, setting her up with someone who had AIDS. He planned for his own sister to contract AIDS to sabotage my son's bone marrow surgery—all to hurt Blake.
"God, this monster," I whispered, hands shaking. "What kind of person does this?"
"There's worse," Blake opened another file. "Money laundering. Corporate espionage. Hacker connections. We've got it all documented."
We decided to release everything the next day through strategic media channels.
"Ready for this?" Blake asked, determination burning in his eyes.
Remembering Matthew's pale face, I nodded. "Damn right I am."
Next day, the news exploded:
Tech Giant Alex King Implicated in Multiple Business Crimes
Whistleblower Connects King to Suspicious Deaths
Morgan Enterprises Soars as LY Technologies Crashes
We released evidence methodically—first to authorities, then selected journalists. By noon, Alex's stock crashed 70%. By evening, his board called an emergency meeting to remove him.
I watched from my office, a bitter satisfaction filling me. When Blake called, I grabbed my phone immediately.
"He's emptying offshore accounts," Blake said. "Bank contact's stalling him, but won't last long."
"Let the bastard run," I answered. "We'll find him anywhere."
Jessica rushed in moments later. "Mrs. Taylor! You need to see this now."
She showed me a leaked private message from Alex: "Victoria was just the beginning. The entire family will pay for what they did to me."
Public reaction was brutal. His carefully built tech visionary image shattered overnight.
By nightfall, Alex had vanished.
-
"Security hasn't found anything unusual," Blake told me three nights later as we prepared for bed. "I've doubled guards around the kids' rooms."
I nodded, anxiety still clawing at my chest. Since everything broke, Aurora and William stayed home, protected 24/7.
"Nobody gets past our security," Blake kissed my forehead. "Try to sleep."
But sleep wouldn't come. I checked the children repeatedly throughout the night, watching their peaceful faces, unaware of danger.
At three in the morning, during one check, I noticed air moving the curtains. Aurora's window—always locked—stood slightly open.
My heart stopped cold.
I rushed to her bed, yanked back the covers, finding only pillows arranged to mimic a sleeping child.
The scream that tore from my throat woke the entire household.
An hour later, after discovering a camera blind spot Alex had somehow known about, we received a note:
"Midnight. Old dock. Come alone. Or they die. No police."
"He took them both," I sobbed as Blake read it. "My babies. Oh God, my babies."
"We'll get them back," Blake's voice sounded terrifyingly calm. He grabbed his phone. "And then I'll kill him myself."
By dusk, we had a plan. Authorities would position covertly nearby while Blake and I approached alone. The tactical team would move only on our signal.
"He'll expect backup," Blake warned. "Alex always thinks ahead."
"Not this time," I checked the hidden tracker in my watch. "This time, he messed with the wrong parents."
Fog shrouded the dock. A yacht glowed in the distance, lights cutting through mist.
"Stay behind me," Blake whispered as boards creaked beneath our feet.
"Right on time," Alex called as we approached. He stood on deck with William and Aurora beside him, terror on their small faces.
"Let them go," Blake demanded. "This is between us."
Alex laughed hollowly. "You destroyed everything I built. My company. My reputation." His hand tightened on Aurora's shoulder, making her whimper. "Now I take what matters to you."
"The FBI knows everything," I said, stepping forward. "Give up."
"Not happening," Alex revealed a detonator. "This yacht's rigged with explosives. Either you both come aboard and send the children off, or we all die together."
Blake's face hardened. "Send them to their mother first."
After a tense moment, Alex nodded. "Fine. But only after you come aboard."
Blake squeezed my hand, then stepped onto the yacht. As his foot touched the deck, Aurora and William were pushed toward the gangplank.
"Run to Mommy," Blake called, eyes never leaving Alex.
The children rushed down. Aurora stumbled once. I caught her, clutching both children against me.
"Now back away," Alex ordered. "Get to shore."
"Blake!" I called out, voice breaking.
"Go, Aria," he answered, our eyes meeting one final time. "I love you all."
I backed away, children clinging to me. Reaching shore, I activated the tactical team signal.
Too late.
The explosion shattered the night. The shockwave knocked us down. I covered the children with my body as burning debris rained around us.
When I looked up, the yacht had become an inferno, black smoke billowing skyward.
"BLAKE!" I screamed, fighting against security officers who restrained me. "NO! NO! LET ME GO!"
The children sobbed as emergency vehicles arrived. Searchlights scanned the water. Divers prepared to search.
Hours blurred together. The children went to a secure location while I paced the shoreline, watching rescue teams sift through wreckage.
"Ms. Taylor," a Coast Guard officer approached at dawn, face grim. "We've recovered two bodies."
My legs gave out. Someone caught me before I hit the ground.
"One is confirmed as Alex," he continued. "The other male body is too damaged to identify without dental records."
Hope—painful, desperate hope—surged through me. "You're not sure it's my husband?"
"The body's severely burned. We need dental records to be certain."
---
Three days later, the search ended. The Coast Guard withdrew. The charred body's dental records revealed a shocking truth—it belonged to Alex's bodyguard, not Blake.
No body. No sign of Blake.
"What does this mean?" I asked Jack.
"It means we don't know anything for certain," he answered carefully. "Maybe he jumped before the explosion. Maybe he..." His voice trailed off.
I stood alone by the water that night. One week ago, we were happy. Now Matthew was dead, Blake missing, and I had two traumatized children asking why Daddy wasn't home.
"We won't stop looking," Olivia promised, squeezing my hand, her own grief for Matthew etched in her face.
That evening, I returned to our empty mansion. Aurora and William finally slept after crying for their father all day.
I walked into Blake's study, his scent still lingering—cologne, leather, whiskey. I sat in his chair, touching the documents and photos scattered across his desk.
Our family photo caught my eye. Taken shortly after William was discharged from the hospital, Blake holding Aurora, William standing proudly beside him. We looked so damn happy.
"You promised you wouldn't leave," I whispered, tears falling. "You swore to me."
My phone rang—unknown number. My heart raced.
"Hello?" My voice cracked.
Static. Then breathing.
"Who's there?" I demanded, gripping the phone.
More static. Then nothing.
I stared at the silent phone. Wrong number? Prank call? Or...
Hope was dangerous. It could drive you insane. But I couldn't stop myself.
What if Blake survived? What if he was somewhere trying to reach me?
In our photo, Blake seemed to stare directly at me, challenging me not to give up.
I stood, determination replacing despair. Whether Blake lived or died, I had to keep going. For our children. For our company. For everything we built.
But I wouldn't stop searching. Not until I had proof.