Lara edged toward the sound of the kids’ voices, every step slow, careful, like the floor might snitch on her.
Her heart hamred so loud she swore they could hear it.
Then she caught it.
That baby-powder, milky scent that belonged only to Shay.
But then, she also slt the fear.
Sharp. Sour. Heavy in the air.
They were scared out of their minds.
"Shay... Sweetie... it’s ," Lara whispered, keeping her voice low and steady. "Mommy’s here. Don’t panic."
Silence.
Then—
"Mommy?"
Her voice was small and shaky, like the word might break.
She thought she was dreaming.
Beside her, Sandro stirred. "Aunt Larissa?" His voice cracked. "You really here?"
"I’m here," Lara said. "Both of you. I got you."
A muffled sniffle.
"Mommy, I’m scared," Shay whispered. "Like... really scared."
Hearing that almost wrecked her.
But she couldn’t fall apart. Not now.
"Listen to ," Lara said, steel sliding into her tone. "Nobody’s touching you. Not while I’m breathing. You hear ?"
A tiny nod. A shaky breath.
She crouched lower. "Can you move?"
"No," Sandro answered. "Hands and feet tied. Both of us. They strapped us to the bed."
"What do you see? Tell everything."
"It’s small... like a cabin or sothing. We’re on a wooden bunk bed. One on top, one on bottom." Sandro explained.
Before she could think it through—
The engine noise died.
The boat stopped moving.
Footsteps echoed above them, then the steps descended.
Lara heard the door creak open.
"Boss... what do we do with her? She’s awake!"
The voice was young. Like that of a boy who just started puberty. Nervous. Trying too hard to sound tough.
Boots scraped against tal.
Lara kept her head down, breathing slowly, pretending she was weak and docile.
"She stays," another voice said — smooth, younger, but colder than ice water. "Let her take care of those little brats. Saves us the headache."
Before she could react—
A hand like a vise clamped onto her arm. She was jerked off the floor so fast her shoulder almost popped.
Pain exploded down her side.
She bit her lip to keep from screaming.
"Mommy!"
Shay’s voice tore through the room.
"Let her go! Let my Mommy go!" She cried as she kept on trashing.
"Shut the hell up!" a man barked.
Shay cried harder. Panicked. Gasping.
Sandro held her hand, but she still cried.
That wild, helpless cry kids make when they think they’re about to lose you forever.
And Lara knew—
If they didn’t calm her down, one of these animals would. It would be disaster.
She forced her voice steady.
"Wait," she said. "Untie . I can calm her down. You want peace and quiet, right? Let hold her. She won’t slow you down."
Silence. Boots shifting. The group leader, thought it through
Then—
"Cut her loose. But watch her."
Rough hands grabbed her wrists. A blade sliced the rope.
Burning pain as blood rushed back into her hands.
Another slash at her ankles.
The ropes dropped.
Shay and Sandro scread, but suddenly muffled as big palms clamped over their mouths.
Lara ripped the blindfold off. Light stabbed her eyes.
Then she saw them.
Shay and Sandro.
Tears streaking their faces. Hands tied. Terrified.
Sothing feral rose up in her chest.
She lunged forward and pulled Shay tight against her.
"I’m here," she whispered into her hair. "I got you. Nobody touching you. Nobody."
She dragged Sandro close with her free arm.
Both of them shaking.
Behind her—
"Why is she calling her mommy?" one man asked. "Is that her real kid?"
Lara glanced up.
She studied the tall dude. His muscles were solid and toned. A boxer build. The type who solved problems with fists.
Nah," the shorter one snorted. "She is just a helper. A governess."
"A governess?" The tall one laughed. "Man, what is this, the 1800s?"
They laughed like it was funny. Like this was normal. Like kidnapping kids was just another shift at work."
Lara morized their faces — every scar, every tattoo, and every voice.
Because if she lived through this and they were not dead yet, she’d rember them.
They dragged her out of the cabin. The door banged open. Salty air hit her face.
She realized they were on a yacht.
A big, white one. Too clean. The owner must be filthy rich.
She scanned the deck fast, searching for anything — a na, a logo, a clue.
"Eyes down," the older one snapped. "Keep looking around, and I’ll scoop them out of your skull."
Her gaze went cold.
She lowered her head to hide the storm brewing in her brown eyes.
But her mind kept working. She was counting steps, asuring the distance.
They shoved them toward a smaller boat — a catamaran.
It was a transfer point.
So they’re moving again, which ant they didn’t want the yacht traced.
Indeed, these people were smart and professional!
That scared her more than anything.
As the smaller boat pulled away, she studied the horizon.
The wind slled like the fragrance after the rain.
Estalis waters... It had to be.
But how the hell did they get this far?
The last thing she rembered was the truck. After that, nothing.
Unknown to her, they’d moved her like cargo.
Their kidnappers transferred from the truck to the helicopter.
They landed at Saint Luke’s Hospital, a subsidiary of Estalis.
From there, they were ferried to the yacht.
Layer after layer, so nobody could track them. If soone did, a lot of ti should have passed.
These weren’t random street punks.
This was organized. Planned.
And that ant one thing. They were being held for sothing worse.
Who was it?
The mastermind must be as powerful as Ares. What grudge did he have on Ares that he targetted his daughter?
Shay wrapped her arms around her neck.
"Mommy..." she whispered. "Are we gonna die?"
The question hit harder than any punch.
Lara tightened her arms around her.
"No," she said. Her voice was soft and certain.
"Not today. Not ever."
Whatever these n wanted...
They were going to have to go through her first.
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