CHAPTER One Hundred and Fourteen.
Noah’s POV.
The divorce papers lay untouched on my desk, their crisp white edges mocking me every time I looked at them. Three weeks had passed since I told Mira I would send them, and yet, here they were, unsigned, unwritten and unstarted.
Everytime I picked up my phone to call my lawyer, my hand froze. The mere thought of not being with Mira crippled me.
How could I even begin to draft the end of something that had defined my life for the past five years. How could I put it into words that I was willing to let her go, knowing fully well that I wasn’t.
The hurt she’d caused ran deep, cutting through me like a shard of broken glass. The image of her lips on Ken’s still plagued my mind, a fostering wound I couldn’t heal. But everytime I tried to convince myself that I deserved better, that I should walk away, her face invaded my thoughts. Her laughter, her stubborness, the way she scrunched her nose when she was in deep thought- all of it was embedded in me. Impossible to erase.
And it left me wondering if I could live without all her light shining in my life, each time I thought about it, I was left scared and anxious. Because no matter what might have happened, the constant answer would be that I would always love her.
This morning had been so different, when I walked into the kitchen and saw her there, the sunlight framing her like a goddamn painting, it took everything in me to remain composed. And when my gaze trailed down her sumptuous body, with that tight corporate dress she had on, showing all those skin. I almost went mad. She had greeted me softly, her voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid.
“Good morning.” She had said, and I replied in kind, forcing myself to sound neutral, distant. When all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms and kiss the hell out of her.
But then she’d brought up the divorce papers, and I almost slipped. Her eyes wide, and full of hope, had pierced through all the wall I’d built. When she accused me of not wanting to divorce her, my resolve crackled, just for a moment. I’d stepped closer without thinking, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
Her scent had enveloped me, a mix of lavender and something uniquely her and for a fleeting moment, I’d been consumed by the urge to grab her, to hold her, to bury my face in her hair, and forget everything. Forget Ken, forget the betrayal, forget the pain.
I wanted to pull her into me, to kiss her until neither of us could breathe. The thought alone drove me mad, and I hated myself for it. How could I still want her so desperately after everything? How could I still crave her touch when the memory of her betrayal was still so fresh?
But I’d stopped myself, stepping back before I did something foolish. I’d brushed her off with an excuse and and left before the tension in the room suffocated us both.
Now, sitting in my office, I couldn’t focus. The paperwork in front of me blurred as my thoughts spiralled, all I could think about was how close I’d come to giving in. To abandoning my anger and my pride just to feel her in my arms again.
A sharp buzz from my phone jolted me out of my thoughts. I frowned, picking it up. The number was unknown, but curiousity got the better of me. When I opened the message, my blood ran cold.
It was a picture, a picture of Mira. She was tied to a chair, her wrists bound and her face streaked with tears. But what froze me in place was the bomb strapped to her chest. The wires and timer a horrifyingly clear message.
The bomb reminded me of what Samuel said about a bomb being strapped to his wife. Natasha.
“No….”I whispered, my hands trembling.
Another picture came through and this time, it was worse. It was my children, our three kids, unconscious and tied together. Each with a similar bomb strapped to their small bodies. My heart felt like it has been ripped out of my chest.
A third picture followed, this one showed both Mira and the kids, side by side with a caption below.
“Tick tock Noah. Time is running out.”
I dropped the phone, my breath coming in shallow gasps. My chest tightened as panic gripped me. My family my whole world was in danger and I had no idea what to do.
I grabbed my phone again, frantically dialling the number that had sent the message, but it wasn’t connecting. I tried again and again, but I was met with nothing.
“Fuck.” I shouted, slamming my fist into the desk.
Without wasting another second, I called the police, my contacts at the FBI. My voice shook as I explained the situation, begging them to trace the number, to do something, anything to find Mira and my babies.
Minutes felt like hours as I paced the room, waiting for updates, and then my phone rang again. This time from another unknown number, my heart leapt as I answered it, my voice hoarse with desperation.
“Hello?”
“Well, well, well, Noah.” A familiar voice purred.
Natasha.
“Natasha.” I spat, my hands clenching into fists. “Where are they? What the fuck have you done to my family?”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” She said, her tone dripping with mockery. “They are alive, for now.”
“Tell me what you want!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt them.”
Her laugh was cold, chilling me to the bone.
“I knew you’d say that. Now here’s the deal, $20 million in cash. Bring it to the old warehouse on route 19. Come alone Noah, no police, no FBI or whatever, no tricks. If I see so much as the shadow of a cop, I’ll press the detonator and blow them into pieces.”
My knees buckled and I had to grip the edge of the desk to stand upright. The image of Mira and the kids flashed in my mind. And fear like I’d never known, consumed me.
“I’ll get the money,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just don’t hurt them, please.”
“You’ve got two hours.” she said before hanging up.
The silence that followed was deafening. For a moment, I stood there paralyzed by the weight of what had just happened. But then, I moved. Grabbing my keys and heading straight to the bank.
The money wasn’t a problem I could withdraw it without issue. But as I drove to the location Natasha gave me, my mind raced as I called both the NYPD and the FBI, I told them what Natasha said and they promised to make a plan and carefully come in.
I thought of Mira, how she’d looked this morning, her eyes full of hope despite everything. I thought of my kids, their laughter and their innocence, and their smiles.
I was consumed with thoughts of how I’d almost held Mira this morning, how I’d almost kissed her. The regret was suffocating, if I lost herif I lost them, I wouldn’t survive it.
As I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turned white, I made a silent vow. I’d do whatever to get them back.
Even if it meant sacrificing myself, I would do it in a heartbeat.