Chapter 29
Sadie
"More than ready," I answer confidently.
The parking lot is half-empty, puddles reflecting the glow of streetlights coming on as dusk settles. Our security team has positioned themselves strategically, two men near the restaurant entrance, another by our SUV, all looking like ordinary people but hyperaware of everything around them.
I check my phone. Twenty minutes until Elliot is supposed to arrive.
My stomach clenches, a wave of nausea rising that I force back down.
Poppy is safe with a trusted security member in a second vehicle nearby, close enough if I need her, far enough to keep her protected. That thought alone steadies me.
"You don't have to do this," Axel says quietly as we sit in the SUV. "We can still walk away, find another approach."
I shake my head. "No more running."
His hand finds mine in the dim interior, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in gentle, steady strokes. The simple touch grounds me, pulls me back from the edge of panic. I focus on his warmth, on the solid presence beside me.
"Remember," he says, "we have everything we need. The evidence, the recording, the photos. He's finished no matter what happens tonight."
I nod, trying to believe it. My lungs feel like they’re in a vise. I take a deliberate breath, then another.
"Tell me something," I whisper, needing distraction from the ticking clock.
Axel tilts his head. "Like what?"
"Anything. Something normal. Something that isn't this."
He smiles, a soft curve of his lips that makes it easier to breathe just a fraction. "When we get back to Virginia Dale, I'm thinking about getting a dog."
The randomness of it startles a laugh out of me. "A dog?"
"Yeah." His hand squeezes mine gently. "Big one. Maybe a retriever. Something that likes hiking."
I can picture it suddenly, Axel with a golden retriever, both of them splashing through mountain streams. The image is so normal, so peaceful, it makes my eyes sting.
"Poppy would love that," I say without thinking.
Something flashes across his face—hope, maybe. "Yeah?"
"She adores animals." My voice softens. "She gets excited every time she sees a dog at the café."
"Then it's settled." He says it like it's simple, like we're just a normal couple planning our future.
My hands have stopped shaking, I realize. The nausea has receded. Axel knows exactly what I need, a glimpse of something beyond this moment, a future where Elliot doesn't dominate every thought.
The radio crackles softly. "Target vehicle approaching from the east entrance."
Just like that, reality crashes back. My body tenses, fight-or-flight instinct surging. Axel's hand remains steady on mine, a silent anchor.
"I'm right here," he says, his voice low and certain. "Right beside you. Not in front of you."
I understand what he means. This is my battle. He's support, not shield.
A sleek black sedan pulls into the lot, headlights sweeping across our windshield.
Even from here, I recognize Elliot's profile behind the wheel.
My throat closes up, memories flashing like strobe lights, his cold smile when I discovered missing money from my accounts, his hand gripping my wrist too tight when I questioned him, his voice on the phone telling me to "get rid of it" when I called to tell him I was pregnant.
But something is different now. The memories come, but they don't drown me. They're just scenes from a past that no longer controls me.
"Ready?" Axel asks, his eyes checking my face.
I nod. "Let's end this."
We step out of the SUV together. The evening air is cool against my heated skin, damp with lingering rain. I straighten my shoulders as Elliot parks and exits his car.
He sees us immediately, his step faltering for just a second before that familiar smug smile spreads across his face. He's exactly as I remember, expensively dressed, perfectly groomed, radiating a confidence that once seemed charming but now looks hollow.
"Well, well," he calls, approaching with measured steps. "I didn't expect a welcoming committee."
Axel moves first, positioning himself slightly ahead of me, not blocking me, just creating a buffer. I step forward to stand beside him, refusing to hide.
"Hello, Elliot," I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds.
His eyes narrow, assessing the situation. I see the exact moment he notices our security team, the calculation that crosses his face as he weighs his options. Then his expression smooths out, that practiced charm sliding back into place.
"Sadie, darling. I was hoping we could talk privately before tomorrow's hearing." His gaze shifts to Axel, dismissive. "Family matters should stay within the family, don't you think?"
"That's why we're here," I say before Axel can respond. "To talk about family matters."
Elliot's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "I see you've brought backup." He nods toward Axel. "I didn't realize you needed a bodyguard these days."
"Not a bodyguard," Axel says calmly. "Just someone who cares about Sadie and Poppy's well-being."
Elliot's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. He's not used to being challenged, especially not by another man. His eyes flick back to me, his expression softening in that manipulative way I once mistook for genuine care.
"Sadie," Elliot says, his voice dropping to that gentle tone he used to use when he thought I was being "difficult." "I think we should discuss this privately. Just you and me, like adults. For Poppy's sake."
Before I can respond, Axel steps forward, closing the distance between them in two quick strides. With a swift, controlled movement, he pushes Elliot's car door shut with his boot. The sound echoes through the parking lot, sharp and final.
"This won't be a private conversation," Axel says, his voice low but carrying easily in the evening air. There's nothing showy about his movements, no unnecessary intimidation, but the dominance is unmistakable.
Elliot's eyes widen slightly, that perfect mask slipping for just a second.
Axel reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thick manila envelope. "We know everything, Elliot. Or should I call you Daniel Peters? Or maybe Thomas Reese?"
Without ceremony, he tosses the envelope onto the hood of Elliot's car. Papers spill out, passport photos, bank statements, court documents.
"Seven women," Axel continues, his voice eerily calm.
"All with similar stories. Marriage, financial control, theft. And now Lisa Carrington is missing, along with her daughter. The FBI's already looking into that one."
I watch Elliot's face, cataloging every microexpression. The tightening around his eyes. The slight flare of his nostrils. The way his right hand flexes and then stills.
"Here's what happens next," Axel says, standing tall beside me.
"You withdraw the custody petition. You disappear. You never contact Sadie again. You never come near Poppy. You never try to force court action."
Elliot's smooth veneer returns, his smile tight but controlled.
"These are some wild accusations. Completely baseless, of course." He turns to me, ignoring Axel completely. "Sadie, sweetheart, is this what you've been reduced to? Making up stories? Forging documents? The courts will see this for what it is, the desperate actions of an unstable woman."
I say nothing, letting him talk. This is his pattern, charm first, then belittle, then threaten. I know it by heart.
"You've never been mentally stable," he continues, his voice dripping with false concern.
"That's why I've been so worried about Poppy. A child needs consistency, not a mother who runs away in the middle of the night, who changes her name, who can't hold down a real job."
His words would have crushed me once. Now they feel like rain against a window; I can see them, hear them, but they can't touch me.
"Your behavior has been erratic from the start," Elliot presses, gaining confidence from my silence.
"The courts will see that. They'll understand that I'm the only stable parent. That I'm the one who can provide for her properly."
I remain quiet, watching him dig himself deeper with every word.
"This is exactly why you're unfit," he continues, gesturing at Axel. "Bringing this… thug to intimidate me? Using fake evidence? The judge will throw the book at you tomorrow."
I feel Axel shift slightly beside me, not retreating but giving me space. His way of letting me know this is my moment if I want it.
And I do.
"The recording of you planning to kidnap Poppy and take her to Brazil is already with the FBI," I say, my voice clear and steady in the night air. "Along with evidence of your fraud in three states."
Elliot blinks, his rhythm broken. "What recording? What are you talking about?"
"You're done managing me," I continue, taking a step forward. "You're done controlling the narrative. You're done."
Something cracks in Elliot's expression, a fracture in his carefully constructed facade. For the first time, I see real fear in his eyes.
"You're bluffing," he says, but his voice has lost its certainty.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, pressing play on the audio file Reeves sent me.
Elliot's voice fills the space between us: "Once the custody hearing's done, we take the kid and disappear. New identities are ready. Brazil first, then we'll see."
The other voice: "What about the mother?"
Elliot's cold laugh: "She won't be a problem anymore."
I stop the recording, watching as the blood drains from his face.
"That's not— I didn't—" For once, Elliot Whitcomb is at a loss for words.
"Sign the papers," I say, nodding to the envelope on his car hood. "Full termination of parental rights. Now."
"This is absurd," he sputters, looking around as if for support. "I'm not signing anything."
"Then I make a call," I say, holding up my phone. "Right now. To the FBI, to the Portland police, to the SEC. Your choice."