Chapter 358: Kidnapping

Chapter 358: Kidnapping
[Sarah]

My anxiety had reached a breaking point. James arrived at the traffic management center with grim determination etched across his face, while I sat in the passenger seat of his black sedan, my hands pressed protectively over my rounded belly.

"The monitoring system covers most of Manhattan's major intersections," James explained as we walked through the sterile corridors of the facility. "If Olivia drove anywhere yesterday, we'll find her."

The technician, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, pulled up the footage on multiple screens. "What's the license plate number?"

I recited Olivia's Tesla's plate from memory, my voice steady despite the churning in my stomach. We watched in tense silence as the screens flickered through hours of traffic footage.

"There," James pointed at the screen. "That's her car."

My heart lurched as I saw Olivia's familiar white Tesla navigating through Manhattan traffic. The timestamp showed 2:45 PM yesterday—around the time she should have been arriving at penthouse.

"She's heading toward the shopping district," the technician noted, tracking the vehicle's path through multiple camera angles.

We followed her route through the digital maze of Manhattan's streets until the car finally appeared at the Manhattan Shopping Center's parking structure. I watched Olivia park on the third level, her movements normal and unhurried as she got out of the car.

"The parking garage cameras show her walking toward the mall entrance," the technician continued, switching to interior footage. "But..."

"But what?" I demanded, leaning forward.

"She never exits the building. At least, not through any of the monitored exits."

A chill ran down my spine. James's jaw tightened as he studied the footage. "She's in the mall somewhere. Or someone took her out through a service entrance."

"I'm going to the shopping center," James said grimly, already heading for the door.

"I'm coming with you," I started to rise, but he shook his head firmly.

"Sarah, you're eight months pregnant. Stay here where it's safe. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

The hours that followed were torture. I returned to Theodore's penthouse, pacing the living room while Mrs. Thompson tried to convince me to rest. My phone remained clutched in my hand, waiting for news.

At 8 PM, James finally called.

"Liv's car is still in the parking structure," he said without preamble. "Security reviewed their footage. She entered the mall at 2:52 PM and never came out."

My blood ran cold. "So she's still inside?"

"She's not in the mall, Sarah. She's gone. Security did a full sweep after I explained the situation. She disappeared somewhere between the parking garage and the main shopping area."

"She must have been kidnapped!" The words tore from my throat. "James, someone took her!"

His voice was heavy with self-recrimination. "I should have assigned her a bodyguard. After everything that's happened with Victoria and Nora, I should have known—"

"Stop," I interrupted, though guilt was clawing at my chest. "This isn't your fault."

But it was mine. I knew it was mine.

Mike appeared in the doorway, having heard my raised voice. When I tried to grab my purse, he immediately stepped forward, placing a firm hand on my bag.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked sternly.

"To help look for her!"

"Absolutely not." Mike's tone brooked no argument. "Sarah, if something happened to you on top of this, it would be catastrophic. You're pregnant, you're Theodore's primary target for anyone wanting to hurt him, and you're emotionally compromised."

I wanted to argue, but the rational part of my brain knew he was right. Still, the guilt was overwhelming. "This is my fault, Mike. I sent her that message yesterday, asking her to come over. If I hadn't—"

"Don't." Mike's voice was sharp. "Don't blame yourself for someone else's actions."

But I barely heard him. A horrifying realization was building in my chest, and I couldn't contain it any longer.

"James," I said into the phone, my voice breaking. "Liv is pregnant. She's pregnant!"

The silence on the other end was deafening.

"What?" James's voice was barely a whisper.

"She told me yesterday. She's early in her pregnancy, probably around six weeks. James, whoever has her—"

"I'll find her," he cut me off, his voice suddenly fierce. "I don't care if I have to tear this city apart. I'll find her."

After he hung up, I sank onto the sofa, my hands shaking. The thought of Olivia, pregnant and frightened, in the hands of strangers was unbearable.

"It's Victoria," I said suddenly, looking up at Mike. "It has to be Victoria. She's behind this."

Mike's expression darkened. "You think she's escalating?"

"After what happened to Nora? Yes. She's desperate now, and desperate people do desperate things."

I stood abruptly, heading for the door, but Mike blocked my path.

"Sarah, no. Whatever you're thinking, the answer is no."

"I need to confront her! She has to know where Liv is!"

"You're not going anywhere near Victoria Cross," Mike said firmly. "You're going to call Theodore and let him handle this."

Before I could respond, William and Emma appeared at the top of the stairs. Emma's face was creased with worry.

"Mom, why are you shouting?" she asked, coming down the steps with William close behind.

The sight of my children's concerned faces brought me back to reality. I was pregnant, emotional, and making decisions that could put everyone at risk.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I said, forcing my voice to remain calm. "Aunt Liv is missing, and I'm worried about her."

William, mature beyond his years, placed a hand on my shoulder. "Mom, you need to let the adults handle this. You can't go running around looking for her."

Emma nodded seriously. "The baby needs you to stay calm, Mom."

Their words hit me like a splash of cold water. I was supposed to be protecting them, not the other way around.

"You're right," I said, taking a deep breath. "I'll call Theodore."

I retreated to my bedroom and dialed Theodore's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Sarah? Is everything okay?"

"Olivia's missing," I said without preamble. "She's been kidnapped."

The silence stretched between us before Theodore spoke, his voice cold and deadly. "I've already dispatched my security team. They're coordinating with the police and reviewing every camera feed in Manhattan. We'll find her."

"Theodore, she's pregnant," I whispered.

Another pause. "How far along?"

"Six weeks."

"I'll have teams checking every warehouse, every abandoned building."

"I should have—"

"No," Theodore's voice was firm. "This isn't your fault. I'm flying back to New York tonight. Stay in the penthouse. Don't go anywhere."

"Theodore—"

"I mean it, Sarah. Promise me."

"I promise."

After ending the call, I went to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. The stress was making me nauseated, and I was worried about the baby.

That's when my phone rang with an incoming FaceTime call.

The caller ID showed "Olivia," and my heart leaped with relief and hope.

"Liv!" I answered immediately, but the relief died in my throat.

The screen showed a dark, cavernous space that looked like a warehouse or storage facility. Harsh fluorescent lights cast eerie shadows, and I could see rough concrete walls and industrial equipment in the background.

In the center of the frame, Olivia lay motionless on what appeared to be a dirty mattress. Her usually bright eyes were closed, her face pale and slack. Around her stood three men—rough-looking individuals with hard faces and cold eyes.

"Liv!" I screamed at the screen. "Liv! Wake up!"

One of the men noticed the phone and picked it up, his face filling the screen. His eyes were dead, professional.

"You want your friend back?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

"Please," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Let her go. I'll give you anything you want. Money, whatever you need. Just don't hurt her."