Chapter 3

Ethan managed to scrape together a few of his flashy friends, and within an hour, they were speeding towards the abandoned warehouse district by the docks, the location the kidnappers had given them. Olivia insisted I come along. She didn't trust Ethan to handle it alone, and in her twisted logic, this was still somehow my responsibility.

I drove my own, modest sedan, following Ethan' s gleaming sports car. I had no intention of being a hero this time. My plan was simple: observe, and let them destroy themselves.

We arrived at a rusted, graffiti-covered warehouse. About ten rough-looking men were waiting outside, armed with bats and pipes. Ethan, flanked by his two equally slick-looking friends, got out of his car, trying to project an aura of control he clearly didn't feel.

"We're here," Ethan called out, his voice trying for firm but coming out shaky. "Where is Mrs. Reed?"

The leader, a big man with a scar running down his cheek, laughed. "Not so fast, rich boy. Show us the money first."

Inside the warehouse, I could see Grandma Reed tied to a chair. She looked terrified, her usually immaculate hair in disarray.

"I'm not giving you a cent until I see she's safe," Ethan blustered, trying to negotiate. "Let her go, and you'll get your money."

This was a critical mistake. He was treating a kidnapping like a business deal, and the kidnappers were not impressed.

Grandma Reed, overhearing this, looked at Ethan with utter shock. Even from a distance, I could see the betrayal in her eyes.

"Ethan!" she cried out, her voice raspy with fear. "What are you doing? Just pay them! My life is worth more than your money, isn't it?"

The leader laughed again, a harsh, grating sound. "You hear that? Your grandma's got more sense than you. Trying to bargain for an old lady's life? What kind of man are you?"

His men joined in the laughter, mocking Ethan's pathetic attempt at bravado. They saw him for what he was: a coward hiding behind a facade of wealth.

"The money is for my future with Olivia and Lucas!" Ethan shouted, a desperate, pathetic justification. "I can't just throw it all away!"

I almost smiled. He was digging his own grave. Every word he spoke made him look more selfish, more pathetic, not just to the kidnappers, but more importantly, to Grandma Reed. Her face, which had been filled with fear, was now hardening with contempt.

Olivia, standing near my car, was wringing her hands, her face pale. She was watching her perfect, wealthy lover unravel, and with him, her plans for a secure future.

I watched Grandma Reed's expression. The disappointment was curdling into pure fury. She was a shrewd woman, a matriarch who valued loyalty and family image above all else. Ethan's public display of cheapness and cowardice was an unforgivable sin in her eyes.

This was my moment.

I got out of my car, my movements calm and deliberate. I walked past a stunned Olivia and a flustered Ethan, right towards the leader.

"Stop," I said, my voice quiet but carrying in the tense silence.

The leader turned his attention to me, sizing me up. "And who are you? The chauffeur?"

"I'm Liam Miller," I said, ignoring the insult. "Olivia's husband."

I pulled out my phone.

"I'll pay the ransom."

A collective gasp went through the small crowd. Ethan and Olivia stared at me in disbelief. But the only person I was looking at was Grandma Reed.

Her eyes widened. In the dim light of the warehouse, I saw a flicker of something new: surprise, confusion, and a tiny, fragile seed of gratitude.

"Liam?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Don't worry, Grandma," I said, my voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'll get you out of here."

I was playing the hero again, but this time, it was a calculated performance. Every word, every action, was for an audience of one. And she was buying every line.