Chapter 6 - HE TOOK THE WRONG CHILD
I had imagined meeting my daughter a thousand different ways in the twenty-four hours since learning she existed.
None involved Christian holding her hostage.
The photograph showed Evie strapped into a car seat.
Her cheeks were wet.
A man’s sleeve appeared near the edge of the image.
Christian wasn’t visible.
But I knew.
I knew.
Sabrina’s hands shook.
“He wants me.”
“No.”
“And Leo.”
“No.”
“If I go—”
“No.”
I said it louder.
Leo woke in her arms.
He started crying.
Sabrina rocked him automatically.
“Genevieve, he has your daughter.”
“And if you give him Leo, he has two children.”
She stared.
I looked at Rebecca.
“Police.”
“Yes.”
“Now.”
For the first time, I didn’t argue about keeping law enforcement out.
This was no longer about gathering perfect evidence.
A child had been taken.
Rebecca contacted the FBI task force handling the expanding case.
Within an hour, my private clinic was filled with people carrying badges.
Christian’s face appeared on screens across the room.
Flight records.
Property records.
Cell towers.
Financial transactions.
He had spent fifteen years becoming nearly impossible to track.
Private planes registered through companies.
Tour buses owned by subcontractors.
Security teams paid through agencies.
Houses under trusts.
Gabriel provided everything he knew.
Sabrina provided more.
I sat uselessly while strangers searched for my daughter.
The helplessness was unbearable.
Dr. Hart threatened to sedate me if I tore another IV loose.
I told her I would sue.
She told me to get in line.
At dawn, Sarah Whitmore regained consciousness.
We spoke by video.
Her forehead was bandaged.
One arm rested in a sling.
The second she saw me, she started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“I couldn’t stop them.”
“No.”
“Evie screamed for me.”
My heart shattered.
“Sarah.”
I forced my voice steady.
“This is not your fault.”
She closed her eyes.
“I promised Claire.”
I stopped.
“What did Claire tell you?”
Sarah looked confused.
“Everything.”
The room went silent.
“Everything?”
“About you.”
My breath caught.
“She knew I was alive?”
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
Pain entered my chest.
“Then why didn’t she tell me about Evie?”
Sarah’s expression crumpled.
“She tried.”
“When?”
“She wrote you letters.”
I thought of Richard’s envelope that Christian intercepted.
“How many?”
“Three.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Christian’s lawyers returned two unopened. The third disappeared.”
Gabriel cursed quietly.
Sarah continued.
“Claire was terrified Christian would find the baby.”
“Why?”
“She had recordings from Richard.”
“What recordings?”
“Christian admitting he wanted your pregnancies stopped.”
My stomach turned.
So Richard had proof years earlier.
“Where are they?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Claire hid them.”
“Did she tell you where?”
“No.”
“But she made me promise that if anything happened to her, I would keep Evie out of Christian’s reach.”
I stared.
“Claire’s car accident.”
Sarah’s eyes changed.
“Yes.”
“You think Christian killed her.”
“I don’t know.”
But she suspected.
So did I now.
The attack on my face had once seemed like the most monstrous thing Christian had done.
Then miscarriages.
Then Evie.
Now possibly his own sister.
Christian wasn’t escalating.
I was simply discovering how long the violence had existed.
The FBI located the SUV at 7:40 a.m.
Abandoned near Dayton.
Empty.
Evie’s car seat remained inside.
So did one of her shoes.
I nearly broke.
Then an agent found security footage from a nearby truck stop.
Christian himself carried Evie from the SUV into a black tour bus.
No disguise.
Baseball cap.
Dark jacket.
My daughter struggling against him.
He boarded the bus.
Twenty minutes later, it traveled south.
Gabriel leaned toward the screen.
“That’s an old tour vehicle.”
“Where would he take it?”
“Nashville.”
Sabrina whispered, “The house.”
The hidden studio.
The recordings.
The key.
It made sense.
Christian was running toward the place where he could collect evidence before disappearing.
Federal agents were mobilized.
I stood.
Rebecca said, “Absolutely not.”
“I’m going.”
“You are a burn patient.”
“My daughter is in that house.”
“You will interfere.”
“Then keep me in a car.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“Rebecca.”
She stared back.
I realized something.
People like Christian controlled rooms because everyone eventually surrendered to their certainty.
I did not want to become him.
So I changed tactics.
“Tell me the truth. Would my presence make the rescue more dangerous?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
That was all I needed.
I sat back down.
“Then I stay.”
Gabriel looked surprised.
“So do you,” I told him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Genevieve—”
“You know Christian. The FBI may need you here.”
“He took Evie.”
“I know.”
Gabriel looked away.
I understood his guilt.
But this wasn’t about proving love through reckless acts.
Christian did that.
We were going to be different.
Three hours later, tactical teams approached the Nashville property.
We watched through an operations feed.
The house sat on wooded land south of the city.
Studio separate from the main building.
No visible movement.
Sabrina held Leo.
I held his plastic dinosaur.
Rex.
At 12:06 p.m., agents entered the house.
Empty.
Studio.
Empty.
Hidden office.
Open.
Computer drives gone.
My daughter gone.
I stared at the screen.
“No.”
An agent found something on the desk.
A phone.
It rang.
Everyone froze.
The team leader answered on speaker.
Christian’s voice filled the room.
“I assume Genevieve is listening.”
My blood stopped.
Rebecca gestured to the agent.
He connected the call.
“Christian.”
Silence.
Then a laugh.
“My love.”
Every nerve in my body recoiled.
“Where is Evie?”
“So you know her name.”
“If you hurt her—”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“You’re holding a four-year-old.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“No.”
His voice sharpened.
“Biologically, she is.”
“You tried to kill her before she was born.”
“I made a mistake.”
I almost couldn’t comprehend the sentence.
“A mistake?”
“I was thirty-one. My career was exploding. You kept getting pregnant.”
I closed my eyes.
“You say that like I did it alone.”
Sabrina turned away.
Christian continued.
“I panicked.”
“You paid a doctor.”
“I was protecting everything I built.”
“You killed two of our pregnancies.”
His breathing changed.
“They were never children to me.”
The room went dead silent.
I knew agents were recording every word.
Good.
Christian didn’t care anymore.
Or thought he remained untouchable.
“And Evie?”
“She’s different.”
“Because she survived?”
“Because she’s mine.”
“She is not property.”
“She looks like you.”
The softness in his voice frightened me more than shouting would have.
“She has your smile.”
My chest cracked.
He had seen it too.
“Put her on.”
“No.”
“Christian.”
“She’s sleeping.”
“Let me hear her breathe.”
Silence.
Then a small sound.
A child whimpering.
“Mommy Sarah?”
My eyes filled instantly.
“Evie?”
The line shifted.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
I couldn’t speak for a second.
Then I forced the words.
“My name is Genevieve.”
Christian laughed quietly.
“Tell her.”
I hated him.
But if I had only seconds—
“Evie, I’m your friend.”
Rebecca looked at me.
I ignored her.
“I know Sarah.”
The little girl sniffed.
“Where Sarah?”
“She’s okay.”
“Want Sarah.”
“I know.”
I closed my eyes.
“Sweetheart, there are people coming to help you.”
Christian cut in.
“Not if you want her alive.”
The line moved away from Evie.
My voice hardened.
“What do you want?”
“Sabrina.”
“No.”
“And Leo.”
“No.”
“Then you don’t want your daughter very badly.”
Sabrina suddenly stepped forward.
“I’ll go.”
I turned.
“No.”
She mouthed, Trust me.
I didn’t.
Christian heard her.
“Sabrina?”
“Yes.”
His voice changed immediately.
“Baby.”
She flinched.
“I’ll bring Leo.”
“No,” I whispered.
She raised one hand.
Christian said, “Come alone.”
“I will.”
“Bring the key.”
Sabrina’s face changed.
He knew.
“What key?” she asked.
“Don’t insult me.”
The hidden office.
Christian knew she had taken it.
“Where?”
He gave an address.
An abandoned theater outside Bowling Green, Kentucky.
Two hours away.
No police.
No trackers.
No Gabriel.
Just Sabrina and Leo.
When the call ended, every federal agent started talking at once.
Sabrina looked at me.
“I’m going.”
“You’re not taking Leo.”
“He expects him.”
“Use a doll.”
“He’ll know.”
My eyes moved to her son.
Leo played with a toy car on the floor.
Unaware.
No.
Absolutely not.
Then Gabriel spoke.
“We give Christian what he thinks he wants.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What does that mean?” Rebecca asked.
Gabriel looked at Sabrina.
“Christian hasn’t seen Leo in six weeks.”
“So?”
“Growth. Hair. Clothes.”
I understood.
“No.”
Gabriel continued anyway.
“The theater will be dark.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re suggesting a decoy child.”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not a real child.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“Then who carries it?”
Sabrina answered.
“Me.”
That part was inevitable.
The FBI hated it.
Sabrina insisted.
Christian wanted emotional control over her.
A stranger wouldn’t work.
They fitted her with hidden audio.
A tracking device she knew about.
No weapons.
No heroic plan.
Her job was simple.
Keep Christian talking.
Keep him focused.
Get eyes on Evie.
Then move when agents told her.
Before she left, Sabrina handed Leo to me.
The little boy looked confused.
“Mommy go?”
“She’ll come back.”
“Promise?”
The word hurt.
I understood now why adults should be careful with promises.
I kissed the top of his head.
“Yes.”
Sabrina looked at me.
“If something happens—”
“No.”
“Genevieve.”
“You are coming back.”
She nodded.
Then left.
Two hours later, cameras outside the abandoned theater showed Sabrina approaching the entrance carrying a bundled weighted doll.
My pulse pounded.
Agents waited beyond sight.
The theater door opened.
Christian appeared.
He looked exhausted.
Unshaven.
Wild.
But still unmistakably the man whose face had sold albums, perfume, watches, and a fantasy of romance to millions of people.
He pulled Sabrina inside.
The feed switched to audio.
“Where’s Leo?”
“Asleep.”
“Give him to me.”
“Evie first.”
A pause.
Then my daughter cried somewhere inside.
Sabrina’s voice shook.
“Let me see her.”
Christian said, “You betrayed me.”
“You attacked Genevieve.”
“She was going to ruin everything.”
“You ruined everything.”
A slap cracked through the audio.
I stood.
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
Inside the theater, Sabrina gasped.
Then Christian said something that ended any remaining doubt about who he was.
“You women keep forgetting who made your lives possible.”
Sabrina laughed through tears.
“No, Christian.”
Footsteps moved.
“You keep forgetting we existed before you.”
Then alarms erupted in the operations room.
Movement at the rear exit.
A vehicle starting.
“He’s running!”
Agents moved.
The theater exploded into motion.
Sabrina screamed.
A child cried.
Not Leo.
Evie.
I stopped breathing.
Then gunshots.
One.
Two.
Three.
May you like
The audio cut.
And every screen went black.
