The phone rings once. Twice. The sound is crisp and loud against the sudden, heavy silence of the rooftop.
Eleanor steps closer. Her heels click sharply against the marble, a rhythmic, threatening sound. “Who are you calling, Clara?” she asks, her voice dropping to a dangerous, silken whisper. “Your lawyer? I own his firm. He won’t take your call.”
“Not my lawyer,” I say. My voice is steady. The tears have dried on my cheeks, leaving my skin tight and cold. Leo buries his face deeper into my shoulder. His small fingers dig into the fabric of my blue dress.
Eleanor laughs. It is a harsh, grating sound that echoes off the glass walls of the penthouse. “Then it’s your mother. Tell her to stop crying. It’s pathetic. Give him to me, Clara. Now.”
She reaches down. Her hand, heavy with diamond rings, grabs Leo’s arm. Her nails bite into his skin.
Leo cries out. A sharp, terrified sound.
I pull him back. Hard. I slap Eleanor’s hand away. The force of it knocks the crystal flute from her fingers. It hits the marble and shatters. Champagne sprays across her gold sequin dress, darkening the fabric, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Her eyes are wide, locked on the phone pressed to my ear.
A voice echoes from the speaker, loud and clear in the night air.
“This is Detective Miller, NYPD. Who is this?”
Eleanor freezes. The color drains from her face, leaving her looking pale and waxen under the rooftop lights. “You’re bluffing,” she whispers. Her voice shakes. “You’re a nobody. You have nothing.”
“Detective,” I say, my eyes never leaving Eleanor’s. “I’m calling to report a kidnapping. And a massive wire fraud scheme.”
Eleanor takes a step back. Her hand flies to her throat, her fingers tangling in the heavy diamond necklace. “You can’t prove anything,” she chokes out. “The accounts are offshore. The trails are buried.”
“Not anymore,” I say. I pull the phone away from my ear and tap the screen. A recording begins to play. It is Eleanor’s voice. Crystal clear. Discussing the transfer of three million dollars from my late husband’s estate into a shell company in the Cayman Islands. Discussing the bribes paid to the bank manager. Discussing the plan to declare me incompetent to seize the boy.
I had found the hidden server in his study six months ago. I had spent every night since then decrypting the files, building the case, waiting for the exact moment she would try to take him.
The recording ends. The silence that follows is absolute.
“You’re lying,” Eleanor gasps. She drops to her knees. The heavy gold sequins of her dress pool around her on the wet marble. The diamond necklace clatters loudly against the stone. “He loved me. He left it to me.”
“He left it to Leo,” I say quietly. “And I am his mother.”
In the distance, the wail of police sirens rises over the hum of the city. The sound grows louder, bouncing off the skyscrapers, closing in on the penthouse. Eleanor stares at the shattered glass on the floor, her perfect facade completely broken.
I hold Leo tight as the flashing red lights wash over the rooftop, reflecting in the dark water of the infinity pool.