Chapter 2

"Ivan, are you still in bed? Come get dressed. You're gonna be late for school. I'm sure you don't want your ass whipped for showing up late," she called out, shaking her head with a small smile.

It was 6:30 a.m., and this had become their daily routine. Ivan, her four-year-old son, groaned and pulled the blanket over his head before finally sitting up, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"Good morning, Mom," he yawned.

Madeline's heart clenched. No matter how much time passed, she couldn't ignore how much he looked like his father—Domenico. His eyes, his smirk, even his expressions were a perfect replica. 

There had been a time when seeing those features had made her furious, regretful. But now, she saw past it.

The moment Ivan had entered her life, everything changed. He had been the catalyst for her transformation. She had carved out a new life for them—a well-paying job at a tech firm, a beautiful home, a stable routine. 

I no longer mourned my past; I embraced my present.

After getting Ivan ready for school, we waited outside for the bus. Their neighbor, Catherine, waved from her porch.

"I see your son is ready for school already," she remarked with a smile.

"Yeah! Just waiting for his school bus to show up," Madeline responded, feeling a swell of pride.

Minutes later, the bus pulled up. Ivan grinned, hugging his mother tightly before running toward it.

"Bye, Mom!" he called, blowing her a kiss.

Madeline watched the bus disappear down the street, her heart full.

At work, she walked into her boss's office.

"You're early," Marcus Andros remarked, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

Madeline forced a neutral expression. "Just making sure I stay on top of things."

"Good." Marcus's eyes lingered on her a little too long. "You know, we could make this job a lot easier for you if you'd just accept my offer."

Madeline stiffened. "I've told you before, Marcus. I'm not interested."

His demeanor changed instantly. "Don't speak to me like that," he snapped. "You think you're too good for me?"

"That's not what I—"

"Enough! Get out of my office," he growled, his face darkening with rage.

Madeline clenched her jaw and left, trying to shake off the anger boiling inside her.

Camilla, her coworker, noticed immediately. "What happened this time?"

"The usual," Madeline muttered. "Marcus being a creep."

"Ugh, when will he get the message?"

"Never," Madeline sighed. "But I don't have time to worry about him right now."

The day passed, by 4:30 p.m., Madeline was home, kicking off her heels.

"Ivan?" she called. Silence. The house felt too quiet.

A cold chill ran down her spine.

She checked his room—locked.

"Ivan!" she yelled, panic rising. She tore through the house, searching every corner.

Nothing.

Frantic, she ran next door. Catherine opened the door, looking concerned.

"Have you seen Ivan?" Madeline gasped. "His bus should have dropped him off, but he's not home."

Catherine frowned. "I've been home all afternoon. I never saw him come back."

Madeline's stomach twisted.

She bolted to her car and raced to the school.

Cory Williams, the school principal, was just about to leave when she ran up to him.

"Where's my son?" she demanded.

Cory hesitated. "I… I thought you sent someone to pick him up."

Madeline felt the blood drain from her face.

 "What?"

"Who?"

"A group of men came earlier. They said you sent them. Ivan left with them."

Her world shambled.

"I DIDN'T SEND ANYONE!" she screamed, grabbing his shirt. "WHO TOOK MY SON?"

Her phone rang. A private number.

With shaking hands, she answered.

"If you want your son alive, get us $500,000," a voice growled.

The line went dead immediately after the call.

Who could be doing this? What has my poor innocent boy did to wallet this ill treatment? She asked.