I’ll Save You
T he night stretched on, long and excruciating, and I felt like I had reached the limit of what I could mentally handle. Julian and I ordered Chinese food, watched TV, but I was only half present. Earlier that afternoon, I had withdrawn 10 million dollars from his bank account and stuffed it into my largest backpack, all without his knowledge.
The whole time, I couldn’t shake the doubt that I’d made a mistake, believing this could actually go well. But since I had no idea who my enemy was, or if they could find out that I’d broken my part of the deal, I decided to proceed with my plan. When it came to Sophie’s life, I couldn’t afford to take any erratic risks. There was a good chance that her kidnappers only wanted the money, and I had to focus on that. If Jess was involved, I was pretty certain she wouldn’t want to hurt Sophie—or find herself tangled in even deeper legal trouble.
To my growing distress, it wasn’t just everything with Sophie that was spiraling out of control. Each time I went to the bathroom, I bled more. And each time, my heart ached, now at the realization that it looked like a miscarriage. I stared at it like it was coming from a knife wound. But still, there was a sliver of hope—that the baby might be fine. Several pregnancy blogs had mentioned the possibility of a subchorionic hematoma, and I clung to it as a plausible explanation of my symptoms.
Not being able to share my health scare with Julian made everything feel even more overwhelming. But if I had told him, he’d probably rush me to the hospital for an ultrasound, and I’d end up missing my morning coffee appointment—something I wasn’t ready to give up, even in the midst of everything. I knew that no matter what this was, there was no way I could save the baby.
In a haze, I managed to get through the torturous twelve hours. I kept my composure, pushed through the mounting anxiety, and stayed as focused as I could. When the time finally came, I slipped out without drawing much attention to myself. I carefully timed my trip to Starbucks, making sure it seemed casual. Will wouldn’t find it odd—after all, I frequented the place regularly to pick up coffee for colleagues at the office. It was part of my routine, something that would make my departure seem perfectly ordinary, even if the weight of what I was about to do was anything but.
I couldn’t afford to shake off Will—he’d pick up on something being off. But it seemed like whoever had sent the email was prepared for that. Instead of showing up in person, they’d skillfully slipped a piece of paper into the coffee tray waiting for me. Why not just give me the address straight in the email then? I didn’t like that this whole thing felt like a game. I examined the people around, as the stranger could have been in the crowd, but it was pointless because he could have been anyone.
Accepting my fate, I grabbed the paper and quickly punched the address into my phone, still standing in front of the counter. It looked like the location was deep within Cuyamaca Rancho State Park, far out beyond East County. The only other detail was to go there at 3 PM, that same afternoon.
The hope of seeing Sophie—and perhaps even saving her—filled my heart, pushing aside the fear that had been threatening to consume me. There was no turning back now.
I finally arrived at the office, the coffees in hand helping to set a positive tone for the day, for everyone else but myself. “Kali, I have a small request,” I announced walking over to her desk.
She looked up, still chewing on her breakfast muffin, and replied, “What’s that, love?”
“I need to borrow your car to run an errand this afternoon.”
Kali shot me a puzzled look. “It’s a beater car, so I make no guarantees it’ll get you from point A to B,” she chuckled. “But you can have it,” she tossed her car keys in my direction.
I suddenly noticed Amanda circling our desks. Her tall, statuesque frame and long legs gave her an air of elegance as was the norm. Black, silky hair cascaded down her back, framing her sharp, angular features—high cheekbones, a perfectly sculpted jawline, and full lips. Her eyes, dark and intense, seemed to see right through you, always calculating, always aware. Now they were looking directly at me.
“My office, Benton,” she snapped, her tone sharp and irritated. The anger was clear in her eyes, and it was obvious she wasn’t in the mood for any small talk.
Kali’s eye darted to me, now a bit frightened. Did Amanda overhear our conversation about the car? Was something going wrong with the app?
I honestly didn’t think I could be in a more tragic situation than I already was, so I followed her, somewhat numb to what could transpire. We strutted toward her office without a word.
“Close the door,” she instructed me, then encouraged me to take a seat as if there was no time to spare.
“I received a call today from Julian’s staff,” she informed me.
Shit. This was definitely not good.
“They asked me whether I was selling Hart & Quill to you today for 10 million.” Her gaze cut through me. “I don’t get those kinds of calls every day.” There was nothing easy about her.
“Amanda, I can explain, did you tell them you weren’t?” Worry laced my voice. “I needed the reason.” How dumb of me to even think I could get away with such a poorly thought-out plan.
She didn’t say anything at first, just stared at me as if weighing my words, her expression unreadable. Finally, she let out a slow breath and leaned back in her chair. “I told them I was selling,” she shocked me, her tone still icy. “But you better be prepared for the fallout. Julian’s not an idiot, Lucie.”
I swallowed with relief, my heart pounding.
“I’m guessing you weren’t planning to use the money for a shopping spree?”
I sat silent.
“I,” she said with a triumphant glance, “have instructed Greg to read all employee’s emails since the incident last year.” She was clearly referring to Tarnakis. During that time, I hadn’t told Amanda about an anonymous letter I received at work, and maybe that was what had pushed her to take more control. The fact that I’d kept it to myself only seemed to fuel her need to monitor everything, to dig into the lives of everyone under her command.
I stared at her, wide-eyed and immobilized, like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I have nothing more to add,” she remarked, rising to her feet.
I swallowed my nervousness. Was she really letting me off the hook that easily? It seemed almost unbelievable, especially from someone with such a controlling presence. Sophie had been right: Amanda’s drive was fueled by an intense need for control, a trait she shared with many powerful leaders. It was a subtle but undeniable force that shaped her every decision and interaction, pushing her to dominate not just in business, but in every aspect of her life.
“Just maybe one more thing, Lucie,” she backtracked, her voice cool but laced with something I couldn’t quite place.
I glanced up at her.
“Can you kindly write the address for your tomorrow’s interview for me?” She pushed a piece of paper my way.
I didn’t have any interviews scheduled the day after, so this could mean just one thing. She knew everything, but she wasn’t willing to have a conversation about it. There were a million fierce thoughts in her gaze, and the weight of her unfiltered strength hung heavy, impossible to ignore. I instantly loved her so much more because she was showing such protectiveness toward my friend.
“Sure, Amanda.” I gulped, then with my trembling hand, I scribbled down what I remembered from the paper. The act of writing it out made me feel less drained, less alone.
She leaned in to ensure she could read it precisely before finally letting me go.
“Thank you,” I forced out, our eyes locking for the final time. I hadn’t prepared a backup plan, but I knew this was likely it. The woman who had already shaped so much of my life was now, once again, using her power to watch over it.
“Take care, Lucie,” she said, her words carrying a weight of emphasis.
At that moment, I just wanted to crumble into Amanda’s arms and cry. To confess that it had all become too overwhelming, that I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to save Sophie who was already fragile because of her health. But instead, I stood up to leave, drawing from Amanda’s strength, because it felt like the only way to move forward—to give this ransom exchange my absolute best. And that’s when I felt it—a heavy, sudden gush of blood.
The weight of grief crashed down on me, as I realized, with heartbreaking certainty, that I had lost our baby.