Chapter 13 - The Trade
I did not tell Maya immediately.
I wanted to.
I also wanted to put her on a plane and send her somewhere Isabella could never find her.
But Maya had spent thirty-seven days losing control of her life.
I refused to make another decision about her while pretending she did not exist.
So I sat beside her.
“Isabella took Noah.”
Her face went white.
“Is he okay?”
“We think so.”
“Why?”
“Because she wants something.”
Maya looked at me.
“What?”
I hated the answer.
“You.”
She became very still.
For a second, she looked nine.
Then older.
Much older.
“She wants my money.”
I stared at her.
“How do you know about that?”
“She told me.”
“When?”
“The night she made me clean the stairs.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I was the richest little servant in New York.”
My jaw tightened.
“She said if I disappeared, nobody would miss me because you had Noah.”
I closed my eyes.
Maya reached for my hand.
“We should get him.”
“No.”
“But he’s a baby.”
“We will get him.”
“She wants me.”
“She is not getting you.”
“What if Noah gets hurt?”
I had no perfect answer.
Maya began crying.
“She always said bad things happened because I didn’t listen.”
I pulled her against me.
“This is not because of you.”
That evening, Isabella called.
Marcus traced the signal.
Burner phone.
Moving vehicle.
Her voice was calm.
“Put Maya on.”
“No.”
“Then Noah misses his next feeding.”
My hand tightened.
“If you hurt him—”
“You’ll do what?”
She laughed.
“You always solve problems with money and lawyers.”
“That usually works.”
“Not tonight.”
I heard Noah crying faintly in the background.
My chest tightened.
“What do you want?”
“Maya brought to the old Lang estate.”
Victoria’s family owned an abandoned estate north of the city.
“Why there?”
“You’ll find out.”
“No.”
“Nathan.”
Her tone changed.
“For once, stop pretending you control this.”
I looked at Marcus.
He was tracking.
She continued.
“Bring Maya at midnight.”
“No police.”
“Bring documents transferring her trust to a temporary guardian.”
“Which guardian?”
“Me.”
“You will never touch that money.”
Noah screamed.
Then the call disconnected.
Marcus looked up.
“Signal ended near Westchester.”
“Can you narrow it?”
“Working on it.”
Victoria arrived twenty minutes later.
When she heard the location, her face changed.
“The old estate.”
“You know it?”
“I grew up there.”
“Why would Isabella choose it?”
Victoria stared at me.
“There’s a private tunnel under the property.”
“Where does it go?”
“To an old boathouse on the Hudson.”
That was Isabella’s escape route.
But Victoria knew something Isabella apparently did not.
“The tunnel collapsed twenty years ago.”
“All of it?”
“No.”
She looked at the map.
“The river exit is sealed.”
For the first time that night, I smiled.
Isabella thought she had chosen the perfect place to disappear.
May you like
Instead, she had chosen a trap.
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