Page 96 of Liam
With shaking hands, Logan connects his phone to the large screen on his father’s desk. The image flickers to life, and my heart stops.
Liam is there, bound to a chair. A dark bruise blooming on his cheek. He looks like he’s in pain, and I bite back a cry, my hand flying to my mouth.
“The Valeur family has lived in luxury,” a whispered voicecomes over the speaker, “built on the suffering of others for too long. Now, you have a choice.”
The voice cuts through the room like ice, each word a dagger. “Donate all the Valeur wealth to the specified charities listed on the screen. Liquidate everything—every cent, gone.” The man pauses, the silence more terrifying than the demand. “And Peter Valeur...” The voice drips with venom. “Peter Valeur must die. On camera. He will confess every crime, every sin, before the world. His last breath will carry the truth.”
A collective gasp reverberates in the room, the weight of the words sinking in. I watch the blood drain from Mr. Valeur’s face, the gravity of the demand dawning on him.
“His life for Liam’s,” the voice resumes, colder, more relentless. “A public execution to balance the scales. “You have twenty-four hours,” the voice concludes, “or Liam pays the price for your sins.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ALERIA
“That voice,” Cora whispers, her words slicing through the tense silence. “I know that voice.”
Every eye in the room shifts toward her.
“It’s Arlo.”
The name slams into the room like a wrecking ball. Shock spreads across the faces of the Valeur family, normally so composed in their world of wealth and power. I glance at Sloane, who stands rigid next to me, her expression tight.
“Arlo was Cora’s boyfriend,” Sloane murmurs, her voice hushed. “At first, he seemed great, but then things got...weird. Cora broke it off.”
I nod, my eyes darting back to Cora as the realization sinks in. The color drains from her face, her wide eyes filling with horror.
“Oh God,” she chokes out. “Why would he take Liam? Is he related to the threats? Why does he hateus?” Her voice falters, breaking into gasps. “He was here—in this house—all the time. I gave him a tour. I let him meet all of you.” Her voice rises, edging toward hysteria. “He knows so much about us.”
Cora crumples, knees buckling beneath her as sobs rack her body. Ryder’s at her side in an instant, scooping her into his arms. His expression is of controlled fury, barely concealing the storm brewing beneath.
The room erupts into chaos, everyone talking at once. Accusations fly, fear and anger palpable in the air. Through it all, Cora’s sobs echo, a heartbreaking reminder of the personal betrayal at the center of this nightmare.
“Cora.” Peter’s voice cuts through the chaos like a knife, firm yet gentle.
His daughter’s tear-streaked face turns to him.
“I know this is hard, but we need you to focus. You knew this man. Liam needs your help.”
Cora’s body goes rigid, her sobs quieting to hiccups. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing mascara across her cheek. “What do you need me to do?” she asks, her voice hoarse but steady.
Logan steps forward, his face a mask of determination. “Call him. See if you can get him talking. If you can get a location out of him.”
Cora’s hand trembles as she reaches for her phone. The room falls silent, the only sound the rapid tapping of her fingernails against the screen. She puts it on speaker, and the dial tone fills the air.
One ring. Two. Three.
“Well, well,” the voice oozes from the speaker, dripping with false warmth, “if it isn’t my favorite Valeur. Missing mealready, sweetheart? I must say I thought you’d figure it out a lot sooner.”
Cora’s jaw clenches, a muscle twitching in her cheek. “What are you doing, Arlo? Why are you doing this? What do you want with my brother? Is this because I broke up with you?”
A dark chuckle crackles through the line, sending a chill down my spine. “Oh, honey. You think this is about you? You were never the point. You were just my way in.”
“What are you talking about?” Cora’s voice wavers, betraying her fear.
“Allow me to introduce myself properly.” The voice takes on a mocking formality. “My name isn’t Arlo. It’s Elias. Elias Nort.”
The effect is immediate. Peter staggers back, collapsing into a nearby chair. The color drains from Lucas’s face while Logan’s eyes widen in horrified recognition.
