Chapter 196: Hostage again!

SEBASTIAN

My father's jaw tightened, and for a long moment, he said nothing, his eyes drifting somewhere past me, somewhere caught in memory.

"She came to see me," he said finally. "Cece. A few weeks ago. She talked about some woman throwing herself around you, trying to trap you into something. She mentioned a child too." He paused, something bitter crossing his expression.

"I didn't believe the child part. I assumed it was some manipulation tactic, something she'd invented to make herself look like the reasonable one."

"It's true," I said. "The child part is true."

"How?" he demanded. "How does something like this happen without me knowing, without anyone in this family knowing?"

"I need you to remember something first," I said, forcing myself to stay steady despite the old anger threatening to surface.

"The night your driver and security team drugged me and placed me in a hotel room, waiting for some woman you'd arranged for me to meet."

His face went pale instantly. “That happened almost eight years ago.”

"Except I wasn't placed in the room with whoever you'd intended," I continued. "I ended up in a different room entirely. Layla's room."

Something shifted behind his eyes, recognition dawning slow and horrified.

"You married that girl," he said slowly. "The one from the arranged encounter. You married her, and then abandoned her within six months."

"Yes," I confirmed, the shame of that decision still sitting heavy in my chest even now.

"But it's more complicated than abandonment. We slept together that night without either of us fully understanding what was happening, given the circumstances you'd orchestrated."

"I don't need the details," my father interrupted sharply, holding up a hand. "I don't want to hear about that night. Tell me about my grandchild."

"Her name is Eleanor," I said. "She's five years old. Brilliant, stubborn, kind in ways I still don't fully understand how she developed given everything she's been through." I paused, steadying myself before continuing.

"She's currently recovering from a bone marrow transplant. Leukemia. I was her donor."

My father's face crumpled slightly, something raw and unguarded breaking through his usual composure. "A transplant," he whispered. "She's been that sick?"

"Yes," I said. "And she's going to be fine, we believe, if everyone gives her the space and stability she needs to recover properly."

"I want to see her," he said immediately.

"You can," I said, "but only under one condition."

His eyes narrowed. "What condition?"

"You treat her mother with respect," I said, my voice hardening.

"I know your history, Dad. I know how you treated Mom before she disappeared. I know exactly what kind of pressure and cruelty you're capable of inflicting on the women who marry into this family when they don't meet whatever impossible standard you hold for them. I refuse to let that happen to Layla. And I refuse to let Eleanor grow up watching her grandfather treat her mother the way you treated mine."

Something flickered across his face, hurt, guilt, maybe both, but he masked it quickly, his jaw setting into something stony and unreadable.

"You are the CEO of Hale Enterprise," he said finally, sidestepping everything I'd just said entirely, and turned, walking out of the room without another word.

I stood there for a moment, watching him go, some complicated mixture of victory and exhaustion settling into my chest.

"What do you think about that?" Dave asked, appearing beside me, practically vibrating with delight as he shook out his hands.

"Welcome back, bro, to the CEO club," Leon said, clapping my shoulder, and the three of us laughed despite everything, the tension of the last hour finally breaking loose into something lighter.

"Congratulations, nephew," Valentine said, emerging from the corner where he'd been silently observing the entire exchange. "Hope it lasts this time."

He offered a small, wry smile before walking out as well, leaving the three of us standing alone in the now-quiet living room.

"I meant what I said," I told them both once we were alone. "About Layla. My father needs to understand this isn't negotiable."

"I don't think he's ever heard you talk to him like that in your life," Leon said, something approving in his tone.

"He needed to hear it eventually," I said. "Might as well be now, while I actually have leverage."

We started toward the door, and I glanced at Leon. "Any progress from Rowan? On my mother and sister?"

Leon's expression shifted slightly, some careful hesitation crossing his features. "I haven't caught up with him properly," he admitted.

"Everything's been moving so fast between the hostage situation, Ellie's diagnosis, the custody hearing, I haven't had a chance to check in on that particular thread."

"I understand," I said, though disappointment settled heavy in my chest regardless. Two searches, both critical, both stretched thin across the same handful of exhausted people trying to hold everything together at once.

We stepped outside, the security team still visible along the perimeter of the estate, and just as we reached Leon's car, his phone buzzed sharply against his hip.

He answered it quickly, and I watched his expression shift within seconds, confusion first, then something darker, something that made every muscle in my body tense in anticipation.

"What is it?" I asked the moment he lowered the phone.

"The hospital's network is down," he said, his voice tight. "Someone's hacked in. They're holding the entire system hostage."

I felt the blood drain from my face instantly. "Ellie's monitors. Her medications. Her entire chart…"

"All running through that network," Leon confirmed grimly, already moving toward the driver's side door. "Get in. Now."

I groaned, fury and dread colliding violently in my chest as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"Hostage again," I said, my hands curling into fists against my knees. "It's time to put an end to this. All of it. Peter, whoever's helping him, every single piece of this,r I want it finished."

Leon peeled out of the driveway without responding, his jaw set tight, and I pulled out my phone, dialing Layla's number with shaking hands, praying she'd answer, praying Ellie's monitors hadn't already gone dark.

The call rang twice.

Then three times.

It went to voicemail.

"She's not picking up," I said, panic rising fast and sharp in my throat.

Leon's grip tightened on the steering wheel, and he pressed harder on the accelerator, weaving between cars as the hospital's silhouette finally came into view ahead of us, lights flickering strangely across its upper floors.