Chapter 58 The Ransom Game

Chapter 58 The Ransom Game
(Sarah POV)
I watched Tony Stark through the burner phone's camera as he stood in an empty parking garage, two duffel bags at his feet. Ten million dollars in cash. Right on time. But I wasn't there. I was three hundred miles away in a different state, watching the live feed from the camera I'd hidden in the rafters.
"Poor Tony," I murmured, bouncing the crying baby in my arms. "So predictable."
Marcus looked up from the laptop where he was monitoring the wire transfers. "Are you going to tell him?"
"Eventually." I smiled. "But not yet. Let him suffer a little longer."
I dialed Tony's number. He answered before the first ring finished.
"I'm here," he said, his voice tight with tension. "Where are you? Where's the baby?"
"Change of plans, Tony. Ten million isn't enough anymore."
Silence. Then: "What?"
"I've been thinking. Why should I settle for ten million when Tony Stark is worth billions? No, I think... twenty million is more appropriate. For all my trouble."
"You said ten. I brought ten."
"And I'm saying twenty now. I make the rules, remember? I have what you want." I held the baby up to the phone so he could hear her crying. "And she's getting very hungry, Tony. Very hungry and very upset."
"Don't hurt her. Please. I'll get you the money. Just don't hurt her."
The desperation in his voice was delicious. This was what I'd wanted to see the great Tony Stark broken and begging.
"You have forty-eight hours," I said. "Another twenty million, cash. I'll send you new instructions."
"Sarah, wait.."
I hung up and laughed. Marcus didn't join me.
"This is insane," he said. "You're just making him angrier. Making the FBI search harder."
"Let them search. They haven't found us yet."
We were holed up in a cabin owned by one of Alex's associates, a man named Dmitri who specialized in money laundering. The cabin was off-grid, untraceable, perfect for hiding.
"The baby needs a doctor," Marcus said, changing the subject. "She's been crying for hours. Something's wrong."
"She's fine. Babies cry."
"Not like this. She feels hot. I think she has a fever."
I touched the baby's forehead. He was right, she was burning up.
"So give her some baby Tylenol or whatever."
"We don't have any. We don't have anything. We ran out of formula two hours ago. We need to go to a store."
"We can't risk it. Every store within five hundred miles probably has my face plastered on the wall."
"Then what do we do?"
I looked down at the screaming infant. Her face was bright red, her little fists clenched. A part of me, a very small part felt something like concern.
But mostly I felt annoyed. This baby was supposed to be my ticket to revenge, to money, to a new life with Alex. She wasn't supposed to be this much trouble.
"She'll be fine," I said, even though I wasn't sure. "Babies are tougher than they look."
My phone buzzed. A text from Dmitri: Need update on payment. My fee for the cabin is 2M. When do I get paid?
Two million. For a filthy cabin in the woods with no heat and questionable plumbing.
I texted back: When I get paid. Be patient.
But patience was running out. Mine, Dmitri's, and especially the baby's.
I'd been so focused on making Tony suffer that I hadn't thought about the logistics. About keeping a newborn alive and healthy while on the run. About the constant feeding, changing, crying.
I'd never wanted to be a mother. Even my own pregnancy had been purely strategic. And now here I was, stuck with someone else's baby, pretending to care while she screamed herself hoarse.
"I'm going to make another video," I announced. "Show Tony what his delays are costing."
"Sarah.."
"Set up the camera."
Marcus reluctantly positioned the phone while I held the screaming baby. I made sure my face was hidden but the baby's distress was obvious.
"Hi, Tony," I said into the camera, my voice syrupy sweet. "As you can hear, your daughter is very unhappy. She needs formulas. Medicine. Proper care. All things I can't provide while I'm hiding from the FBI. So every hour you delay getting me my money is another hour she suffers. Think about that."
I ended the recording and sent it to Tony's private email, the one my hacker friend had found for me.
"You're evil," Marcus said quietly.
"I'm practical. Tony Stark has more money than God. Twenty million is nothing to him. But to us? It's freedom. It's a new life. It's everything we need."
"What about the baby? Are you really going to give her back once we get the money?"
Honestly? I hadn't decided. Part of me wanted to keep her, not out of love, but out of spite. Raise her to hate Lily, to worship Alex, to believe lies about her origins.
But another part of me knew that keeping her was too risky. A baby was evidence. DNA. Proof of kidnapping that could send me to prison for life.
"I'll decide when the time comes," I said.
The baby's crying intensified. Then she went silent not a peaceful silence, but an ominous one. Her little body went rigid and started shaking.
"Marcus!" I shoved the baby at him. "Something's wrong!"
"She's having a seizure!" Marcus laid her on the couch, trying to position her safely. "We need to call 911!"
"We can't call 911! They'll trace it!"
"She's dying, Sarah! Look at her!"
I looked. The baby's lips were turning blue. Her eyes rolled back. Her tiny body convulsed.
Terror shot through me, not for the baby's sake, but for my own. If she died, my leverage died with her. No money. No escape. Just a murder charge.
"Call Dmitri," I said frantically. "He must know a doctor. Someone who won't ask questions."
Marcus grabbed his phone and dialed while I watched helplessly as the baby seized. After what felt like hours but was probably seconds, the seizure stopped. She went limp, her breathing shallow and rapid.
"Dmitri says he knows someone," Marcus reported. "A veterinarian who lost his license. He'll come, but it'll cost five thousand up front."
"We don't have five thousand!"
"Then we let her die, and your whole plan falls apart!"
I wanted to scream. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. The baby was supposed to be easy leverage. A tool. Not a dying infant who needed medical care I couldn't provide.
"Fine. Tell him to come. Tell him we'll pay double if he gets here within the hour."
While we waited, I paced the cabin, watching the baby's chest rise and fall too quickly. Marcus tried to cool her fever with wet towels, but nothing helped.
My phone buzzed. Tony, calling.
"What?" I snapped, answering.
"I saw the video. Sarah, please, if she needs medical attention.."
"Oh, now you care? Where's my money, Tony?"
"I'm working on it. Twenty million in cash takes time to.."
"You don't have time!" I looked at the baby, her lips still tinged blue. "She's sick. Really sick. And unless you get me that money in the next twelve hours, you're going to get her back in a box."
"Sarah, please.."
"Twelve hours, Tony. Starting now." I hung up.
The veterinarian arrived forty minutes later—a grizzled man in his sixties who smelled like whiskey and cigarettes. He examined the baby with shaking hands.
"This is a human infant," he said, stating the obvious.
"Can you help her or not?" I demanded.
He pulled out a stethoscope and listened to her chest. "Respiratory infection. Maybe pneumonia. She needs antibiotics, fluids, and professional care."
"Can you give her antibiotics?"
"I can give her animal antibiotics. But the dosing for an infant, I could kill her if I get it wrong."
"And if you do nothing?"
"She'll definitely die. Tonight, probably."
I looked at Marcus, who looked back at me with accusation in his eyes.
"Do it," I said. "Give her the antibiotics."
The vet prepared a tiny dose and injected it into the baby's arm. She barely reacted, too weak even to cry.
"She needs to be in a hospital," the vet said, packing up his supplies. "This is just buying time. A day, maybe two."
"Will she survive that long?"
"Maybe. If she's strong. If she's lucky." He looked at me with disgust. "You know what you're doing is wrong, right? This baby needs her mother, needs proper care.."
"Save the lecture. How much do we owe you?"
"Ten thousand. Five for the visit, five for my silence."
I wanted to argue but didn't have the energy. "Fine. You'll get paid when I get paid."
"When's that?"
"Soon. Very soon."
After he left, I sat watching the baby breathe. Her fever had dropped slightly, but she looked so small, so fragile.
For the first time since I'd stolen her, I wondered if I'd made a terrible mistake.
Not a moral mistake, I didn't care about morality. But a practical one. A baby was too much responsibility, too much risk, too much trouble.
If she died, Tony wouldn't pay. The FBI would charge me with murder. Alex would never forgive me for losing our leverage.
But if she lived, I had to figure out how to keep her alive long enough to get the money and disappear. My phone rang. A number I didn't recognize.
"Yes?"
"Ms. Morrison, this is Detective Harris. I'm calling about your situation."
My blood ran cold. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"We know you have Lily Morrison's baby. We know you're demanding ransom from Tony Stark. And we know that baby is very sick right now."
How did they know? Had the vet called them? Had they tapped Tony's phone?
"I want to help you," Detective Harris continued. "Not arrest you, help you. Because right now, you're looking at kidnapping, extortion, and if that baby dies, murder. But if you bring her to a hospital, if you surrender peacefully, I can talk to the prosecutor. Get you a deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"Twenty years instead of life. Possibility of parole. A chance at a future."
Twenty years. I'd be almost fifty when I got out. Alex would be an old man. But it was better than life in prison. Better than a murder charge. "I need to think about it," I said.
"You don't have time to think. That baby needs a doctor now. Every minute you wait increases the chance she dies."
I looked at the infant, her breathing rapid and shallow. She did look worse. Even I could see that.
"I'll call you back," I said and hung up.
Marcus was watching me. "They offered you a deal?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to take it?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I picked up the baby, carefully, because she seemed so breakable and looked at her tiny face.
She had Lily's nose. Lily's delicate features. But those eyes, when they briefly opened, were Alex's.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know what to do anymore."
My phone buzzed again. Another video text from Tony's assistant, Pepper: Mr. Stark is liquidating assets as fast as possible. He'll have your money in eight hours. Please, just keep her alive until then.
Eight hours. I looked at the baby. Could she survive eight more hours? As if in answer, she started coughing, a horrible, wet sound that made her whole body shake. Then she went silent again, her breathing even more labored than before.
"Sarah," Marcus said urgently. "She's turning blue again. We need to do something. Now."
I looked at the baby, at Marcus, at my phone.
Twenty million dollars or a dying infant. Freedom or murder. Revenge or mercy. For the first time in months, I realized I was in way, way over my head..