Chapter 33 The Exchange
Becca’s POV
The first thing I noticed was the sound, the hollow drip of water echoing through concrete.
Cold air scraped against my skin.
My wrists hurt. My throat was dry.
When I opened my eyes, the ceiling above me was stained with rust and mildew.
The smell of damp dust filled my lungs. I tried to move, but the ropes around my wrists bit deeper into my skin.
Then I heard the steady footsteps from afar.
He appeared from the shadows like he’d been rehearsing the moment.
Daniel.
We had met before. Twice.
Once, at Mark's basement.
Obviously they were into some kind of argument. I had acted like I didn't see him then.
And then during his speech.
Mark's supposed brother.
“You’re awake,” he said lightly, as if we were in a café and not a decaying warehouse.
“Where’s my sister?” My voice cracked.
“She’s fine. A little scared, but fine. I made sure she wasn’t harmed.” He walked closer, adjusting his cufflinks.
“You were never supposed to be part of this, Becca. But Mark… he made you a part of it.”
“By loving him?” I hissed.
Daniel gave a small, mocking smile. “By trusting him. That’s always been his weakness, he gives trust to the wrong people.”
He stopped in front of me and crouched. “You’re just leveraged. Nothing personal.”
I jerked my wrists against the rope. “Then what do you want from me?”
He tilted his head. “A favor. You’re going to convince Mark to hand over the remaining Simmons shares.”
A bitter laugh slipped from me. “You think he’d listen to me after everything?”
“Of course he will,” Daniel said smoothly. “Because he still loves you. You’re his last blind spot.”
He stood up, pacing now, hands clasped behind his back. “You’ll call him. You’ll tell him that if he doesn’t cooperate, his precious Becca and her sister won’t survive the night.”
My chest tightened. “And if I refuse?”
He smiled again. “Then I’ll have to prove I’m serious.”
Something in his tone made me sick. He believed every word. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation.
I looked away, blinking hard. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me.”
“I don’t,” he said quietly, almost sadly. “But destruction has a price. Mark took what was mine. My name, my father’s company, my chance at legacy. I’m just taking it back.”
There was something hollow in his eyes—something that looked a lot like envy rotted into madness.
He leaned closer. “Think about it. You help me, you walk free. You and your sister. Fresh start, clean life, no more Simmons drama.”
My voice shook, but I managed to meet his eyes. “And Mark?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
He turned away, pulling a phone from his pocket. “I’ll give you some time to decide.”
He walked toward the far end of the room, talking quietly into the phone. I couldn’t catch everything, but I heard Davenport’s name. That was enough.
My pulse hammered against the ropes. Every instinct screamed to move. Think. Do something.
Then I saw it—a faint red blink from the broken corner of a desk across the room. The tracker. Mark’s tracker. The one he’d once jokingly called his “guardian angel chip.”
He had placed it on my phone the night we’d fought, before I stormed out. He must have reactivated it when he realized I was missing.
I glanced toward Daniel. He had his back turned, pacing again.
My fingers twitched. The rope was tight but not perfect. Maybe he’d been in too much of a hurry. I twisted my wrist, ignoring the sting as the fibers scraped my skin. A strand snapped.
One. More.
When my hand finally slipped free, I moved fast—reaching for my phone on the nearby crate. The screen was cracked, but it lit up. My heart slammed in my chest.
There was barely any signal, but the emergency app Mark had once installed glowed faintly. It didn’t need the internet. Just one tap would send coordinates.
I pressed it.
A faint vibration. Sent.
I tucked the phone back in place, binding my wrists loosely again before he could notice.
“Time’s up,” Daniel said, turning around, pocketing his phone.
I looked up at him, forcing my breathing to stay steady. “I’ll do it.”
He smiled like a teacher pleased with a student. “Smart girl.”
He came closer, pulling the chair upright. “We’ll make the call in one hour. Don’t try to be clever, Becca. Davenport’s men are watching every door. And if Mark shows up early…” He trailed off, a smile cutting through his words. “Let’s just say it won’t end well.”
He started to walk away again, answering another call as he left through a side corridor.
The moment he was gone, my chest collapsed. I sucked in a shaky breath, whispering to myself.
“Please, Mark. Please be faster than them.”
My whole body trembled. The warehouse felt smaller now, the air thicker. Somewhere in the corner, a loose pipe dripped in rhythm with my heartbeat.
I thought about Danielle. About how terrified she must be. About the way Mark had looked at me during our last argument—like I’d already betrayed him.
And yet, here I was, risking everything for him. For both of us.
My lips moved before I realized I was speaking. “You once said you’d find me no matter where I ran.” My throat tightened. “I hope you meant it.”
Outside, a wind kicked up, rattling the steel shutters. I could almost hear sirens in the distance—or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
I stayed still, breathing slowly, waiting for any sound of movement. The moment I heard Daniel’s returning footsteps, I schooled my face back into calm.
He came back, his phone still in hand. “You ready?”
I nodded. “Ready.”
“Good,” he said, dragging a chair closer to me. “Smile, Becca. You’re about to make history.”
I forced a tight smile, but my mind was miles away—counting seconds, waiting for the sound that could change everything.
Then, faintly, in the distance—sirens.
Daniel frowned, glancing toward the window. “What the hell—”
I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just kept my eyes fixed on the cracked screen of my phone, where the last message Mark had sent days ago still sat unread.
> If anything happens, just breathe. I’ll come.
I closed my eyes.
“Come fast,” I whispered.
Becca has been kidnapped.