Chapter 16 - The Call from the Cold Case Unit
The diamond on Willa’s left finger felt heavier than it actually was.
It had been four days since Jared’s proposal, four days since the champagne flutes were cleared and the penthouse returned to its quiet hum. Roman lay stretched across the rug near the floor-to-ceiling windows, his heavy breathing the only sound breaking the Manhattan evening.
Then the secure line on Miles’s desk rang.
Miles rarely answered on speaker, but when he heard the voice on the other end, his knuckles turned white against the receiver. He looked up at Jared, his jaw locked.
"Put it on speaker, Miles," Jared ordered, his tone instantly shifting back to the calculating kingpin who ruled the city’s underground.
"Mr. Kensington," a gruff, exhausted voice rasped through the speaker. It was Agent Miller from the federal task force handling Sebastian’s confiscated assets. "We’re cataloging Sebastian’s offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. We found a recurring wire transfer. Every month, on the third. For nine consecutive years."
Jared didn't blink. "Sebastian had hundreds of hidden payrolls. Bribed judges, corrupt dockworkers, hitmen."
"This wasn't a bribe," Miller interrupted, his breath catching. "The payment was categorized under a private medical escrow account. Destination: St. Jude’s Haven for the Blind, upstate New York. Beneficiary name: Faith Moretti."
The room plunged into absolute sub-zero silence.
Willa froze. "Elena’s maiden name..."
"Agent," Jared’s voice was dangerously quiet, a tremor of suppressed violence shaking the edges of his words. "Elena’s baby died twelve hours after birth. I read the hospital autopsy report. I held the death certificate in my hands."
"Sebastian bribed the attending physician fifty grand to sign that death certificate," Miller said flatly. "The baby never died, Jared. She was born three months premature, suffered irreversible optic nerve damage from oxygen deprivation in the incubator, but she lived. Sebastian didn't kill her. He hid her away as ultimate collateral—an insurance policy in case you ever turned against him."
A sickening crack echoed through the room. Jared had shattered the crystal tumbler in his hand. Bourbon and fresh blood dripped down his fingers, pooling on the polished marble floor.
Roman scrambled to his feet instantly, a low, guttural warning rumbling in his massive chest as he sensed his master’s sudden spike of adrenaline.
May you like
"Where is she?" Jared whispered, his eyes jet-black with rage and terror.
"That’s the problem, Mr. Kensington," Miller said, dread dripping from every syllable. "When Sebastian’s syndicate collapsed last week, the funds stopped. Three hours ago, two armed men posing as social service workers signed Faith out of the facility. She’s gone."
