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THE MILLIONAIRE’S CHOSEN DAUGHTER: The Lie That Unlocked a Empire’s Darkest Secret / Chapter 4 / 5

CHAPTER 4: THE SNATCHED HEIR

A Heartstopping Betrayal in the Dark of Night

The rain was pouring in sheets as Richard arrived back at the dilapidated blue house. The streetlights flickered violently, casting long, eerie shadows across the deserted neighborhood.

Richard slipped through the back door, using his flashlight to guide his way. The house felt empty, haunted by the memories of a family forced to live in fear. He found the old sewing room. He knelt down, feeling along the dusty floorboards until his fingers caught on a loose edge.

With a hard tug, the board popped free.

Inside the dark crawlspace was a rusted metal lockbox. Richard pulled it out, his heart hammering. He didn't have the key, but using a heavy metal screwdriver from the kitchen, he pried the lock open.

Inside were letters written in Julian’s elegant handwriting to Sarah. Photos of them laughing in a park. And at the bottom, a heavy, encrypted USB drive labeled: MAXWELL LAUNDERING - PROJECT PHAETON.

"I knew you’d find it," a voice whispered from the darkness of the hallway.

Richard spun around, raising his flashlight.

The beam of light illuminated Vance. But he wasn't alone. Standing next to him was a woman Richard recognized all too well—Audrey Vance, Richard’s own personal assistant of five years.

Richard’s blood ran cold. "Audrey? You... you work for my father?"

Audrey looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. "He pays my brother’s medical bills, Richard. He owns me. I’m sorry. I had to tell them where you took the girl."

The penthouse.

"No!" Richard roared, lunging forward, but the two thugs with Vance grabbed him, slamming him against the wall. The metal lockbox fell, the USB drive skittering across the floor. Vance picked it up with a smug grin.

"Thank you, Richard. You’ve done our job for us," Vance said. "And don't worry about the little girl. My men are already at your penthouse. By the time you get back, she’ll be on a private jet to a secure facility in Switzerland. She’ll be well taken care of... but she will never, ever see the light of day in this country again."

With a brutal blow to Richard’s stomach, the thugs knocked him to the ground. Richard gasped for air, his vision swimming as he watched Vance and Audrey walk out into the storm, taking the USB drive with them.

Richard lay on the cold floor, his body screaming in pain. But his mind was filled with one image: Emma.

“Would you please pretend to be my dad just for an hour?”

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Dr. Mercer looked down at the ultrasound monitor, her fingers moving with practiced ease over the trackball. The quiet hum of the machine filled the room, punctuated only by the rhythmic, heavy breathing of Dorian Cross standing near the door. He hadn't sat down once. His tall frame cast a long, imposing shadow across the sterile room, hand resting near the button of his suit jacket—a posture born of years of constant vigilance.

Dr. Mercer looked down at the ultrasound monitor, her fingers moving wit...

The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut through the rainy night like a knife. I didn't wait for them. I held Arianne against my chest, feeling the terrifyingly erratic rhythm of her pulse, and bolted down the grand mahogany staircase.

The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut thr...

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expensive cologne, manufactured corporate harmony, and betrayal. As I stepped back onto the sun-baked tarmac of the private aviation terminal, the stifling afternoon heat hit me like a physical blow. Behind the thick, tinted glass of the jet's windows, I could see Carter’s silhouette—his jaw set in that familiar, arrogant angle of a man who believed he had just successfully disciplined a disobedient pet.

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expe...

"No," Richard whispered, pulling himself up, coughing blood onto the floor. "Not for an hour. For the rest of my life."

He stumbled out of the house, ignoring the agonizing pain in his ribs. He got into his Audi and slammed his foot on the accelerator. He didn't head to his penthouse—he knew they would have already taken her. Instead, he drove straight to the private hangar at Portland International Airport, where the Maxwell corporate jet was kept.

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