My son and I were kidnapped. The kidnappers live-streamed our ordeal online, threatening to chop my son into pieces and feed him to dogs if the ransom wasn't paid. Instantly, the entire internet was searching for my husband. But what they didn't know was that at the exact same moment, trending alongside our kidnapping, was the city's wealthiest billionaire announcing his new relationship with a famous actress, looking like the picture-perfect, happy family of three. That billionaire was my husband, the father of my child. Seeing those two trending topics side-by-side was truly laughable. Later, taking pity on my son, the kidnappers only took one of his hands. Dragging his bleeding, empty left sleeve, he crawled all the way home, only to stumble upon my husband celebrating the birthday of his "first love's" child. My husband frowned. Looking at my son's curled-up, trembling body, his eyes were ice-cold: "Truly Chloe's child. You only know how to play the victim, just like your mother." My son looked up. Using his only remaining hand, he tugged at my husband's pant leg. "Mister... could you please lend me some money so I can bury my mom?" 1 It was the twenty-third hour since my son and I were taken and tortured by the kidnappers. Arthur Sterling, the wealthiest man in the city, was busy celebrating the sixth birthday of his "first love's" child. I had dialed his number for help eighty-eight times. Every single time, I got a busy signal. Furious, the kidnapper grabbed me by the hair and dragged me in front of my son, his face contorted with rage. "Isn't Arthur Sterling your husband?! Why the hell won't the call go through?!" "Are you dialing the wrong number on purpose to stall for time?!" As he yelled, he violently ripped out clumps of my hair, taking patches of scalp with them. The sheer agony contorted my face instantly. Tossing the bloody hair onto the ground, the kidnapper sneered, spat in my face, and threatened: "I'm giving you one last chance. If the call doesn't go through this time, don't blame me for being ruthless." He pointed at my son, who was pale with terror. It was a clear warning: if the call failed again... The next victim would be my child, who had just turned six. The excruciating pain made my body tremble uncontrollably, but I didn't dare fight back. I had to protect my child. Picking up the phone, I dialed Arthur's number for the eighty-ninth time. Beep... beep... "Hello?" Arthur's deep, magnetic voice finally came through. The moment I heard his voice, tears immediately streamed down my face. A mix of overwhelming relief and terror tangled in my heart, making me blurt out desperately: "Hubby, Tommy and I have been kidnapped! You need to—" Before I could finish, the man on the other end cut me off with clear disgust: "Enough, Chloe! I don't care what kind of act you're pulling this time, but leave Tommy out of it!" "If you have any conscience left, stop using our son as a pawn to get my attention." With that, he hung up without a second of hesitation. The kidnapper's face darkened, his gaze shifting ominously toward my son. Ignoring my despair, I immediately called back, terrified that a second's delay would cost my son his life. The call connected again. I begged through my sobs: "Arthur, I'm not lying! We've really been kidnapped! Please, I beg you, save our child!" Silence stretched on the other end for two seconds before Arthur's voice, so cold it chilled me to the bone, rang out: "Then wait until you're dead. I'll come collect your bodies." The line went dead. Arthur had turned off his phone. At the exact same moment, I received a video message from Mia. In the video, Arthur, dressed in a bespoke suit, held Mia's son and spoke confidently to the media. "Yes, that's right. This is Mia's and my child." "We were forced apart previously due to some misunderstandings, but now we have decided to get back together." "From now on, I will be a good father and take excellent care of Mia and Leo." Mia stood beside him, smiling sweetly. Attached to the video was an electronic invitation. [Chloe, you and Tommy are welcome to attend our wedding on the 5th of next month.] [We'd love for Tommy to be our ring bearer.] It felt like my heart was being shredded into pieces. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. In my daze, my son suddenly screamed. "Mommy!" Having lost all patience, the kidnapper dragged my son up from the floor, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air. "You little bastard! I didn't expect you to be completely useless!" My son's face turned a purplish blue as he desperately slapped the kidnapper's massive hand with his tiny ones. "M-Mommy..." Rage eclipsed my fear. I screamed and lunged forward, desperate to save my son. Before I could even reach him, another kidnapper pinned me down and punched me brutally several times. "Bitch! You dare fight back?!" As he spoke, he picked up a rusty piece of rebar from the floor and jammed it into my mouth, churning it violently. The rough, jagged ridges tore my mouth apart, churning up bloody foam. My gums and tongue were shredded to a pulp. The agony was so intense I could only let out muffled whimpers. Only after completely venting his rage did the kidnapper throw my son to the ground. He ordered someone to open a live-streaming app on a phone. "Since he doesn't believe the phone calls, we'll live-stream the kid being tortured." "I refuse to believe Arthur Sterling can be that heartless, completely abandoning his own flesh and blood." 2 The kidnappers' live stream of the abuse and the news of Arthur's new relationship skyrocketed to the top of the trending lists simultaneously. In front of the media, Arthur affectionately placed Mia's son on his shoulders and smiled at the reporters: "Alright, that concludes today's interview. Mia and I need to go celebrate our child's birthday." Mia gave the man a coy, playful look. "Arthur is just like this. He's always been such a good father." Meanwhile, on the other side, the kidnappers shoved my son into a burlap sack, kicking and beating him mercilessly like a ragdoll. I was tied tightly to a chair, forced to watch this horror unfold with my own eyes. My son's cries of pain, initially heart-wrenching screams, slowly faded into the weak whimpers of a dying kitten. The comment section rolled by in a blur: [I can't watch this! The kid's screams are too horrible!] [Didn't they say they'd let the kid go as long as the dad connected to the stream? Where is the dad?!] [Can anyone contact the kid's father?! Save the child!] The kidnapper dragged my son out of the sack, his eyes filled with sinister cruelty: "You little bastard. It seems your dad really can hold his nerve. He still refuses to show up." "Fine. Don't blame me for what happens next." With that, he picked up the piece of rebar and began to move. My eyes nearly burst from their sockets in sheer terror. Dragging the chair with me, I threw myself to the floor, kowtowing frantically toward them like a madwoman. "I beg you, please don't hurt my child! I'm not afraid of pain! Do whatever you want to me, just let my child go! I beg you!" My forehead slammed heavily against the concrete floor, quickly dyeing it red. My son opened his eyes, looking at me, and kept shaking his head. "No, Mommy. Tommy doesn't hurt... Tommy doesn't hurt at all." My son's voice was like an ice pick plunging deep into my heart. But I couldn't afford to be afraid. He was only six. His life was just beginning. Tears mixed with blood slid down my cheeks as I gave him the same gentle smile I always did. "Tommy, Mommy is an adult. Adults don't feel pain." My son looked confused, still shaking his head continuously. The kidnapper, completely out of patience, gripped the rebar and stepped menacingly toward my son. "You little bastard, let's see you cry now!" In that split second, I lunged forward with all my might, shoving my son out of the way. The rebar plunged down, impaling my body. The agonizing pain caused my body to convulse uncontrollably, but I didn't want to terrify my child. Even as the kidnapper yanked the rebar out, I fought desperately to keep the smile on my face. I wanted to tell my child not to be afraid. I wanted to tell him how much Mommy loved him. But when I opened my mouth, all I could manage was a smiling whisper: "Tommy, don't cry. Mommy doesn't hurt." In the moments before my death, countless memories flashed through my mind. I thought of our wedding day, how Arthur's hands trembled so much holding mine that it took him ages to slip the ring on my finger. I thought of the day I found out I was pregnant, how Arthur's eyes were rimmed with red as he asked me, "Am I really going to be a dad?" I thought of my son's fifth birthday, the grand, extravagant celebration Arthur threw for him. But soon, those memories were replaced by the countless times Mia framed me and my son after her divorce. By Arthur's suspicion, his disappointment, and finally, his cold, heartless glare. My vision began to blur. I could hear my son's voice. He was saying: "Mommy, don't go to sleep. Tommy will be good. Tommy will listen." "Mommy, don't sleep!" I used my last ounce of strength to raise my hand, wanting to stroke my son's hair. But all I felt was sticky, warm blood. I'm sorry, Mommy couldn't protect you. I'm sorry, Tommy. My consciousness sank entirely into darkness. My son stretched out his tiny hands, desperately trying to plug the bleeding wounds on my body. But it was all in vain. The comment section couldn't take it anymore, scrolling frantically: [These monstrous kidnappers! Where are the police?! Hurry up and save them!] [Where is the child's father?! Why hasn't he shown up yet?!] [Does anyone know this child?! Please help them, I'm begging you!] ... Even the kidnappers began to panic. One nervously turned to his accomplice: "What do we do? She's dead." The accomplice narrowed his eyes, his voice chilling: "It's fine. We still have the little one, don't we? We can still get the ransom." He ripped my son away from my body and shoved him in front of the camera. Revealing his small face, covered in dark bruises. "Look closely, everyone! This child's father is the CEO of the Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling!" The rapidly scrolling comment section paused for a split second. Then it absolutely exploded. [How is that possible? Didn't CEO Sterling just announce his relationship with that actress?] [Yeah, they have a kid, but isn't his name Leo?] [Are the kidnappers insane? They're trying to extort him?] [Exactly! Did they kidnap the wrong person?!] Just as everyone was debating furiously, someone suddenly commented. [I was at the announcement event! I saw CEO Sterling check his phone!] [Just wait a second, everyone! CEO Sterling definitely saw the news! He'll be here any minute!] As soon as that comment dropped, a bold, enlarged message was pinned to the top of the chat. It immediately caught the kidnappers' attention. [Connect with me! I am Arthur Sterling!] My son didn't recognize many words, but he knew the characters for "Arthur Sterling" meant his dad. His eyes instantly lit up. "Daddy..." 3 The connection was established, but it wasn't Arthur on the other end. The kidnapper's expression twisted. He violently pinned my son to the floor, raising a knife to sever his left hand. The voice on the other end frantically tried to stop him: [Wait! Don't do anything rash! I'm CEO Sterling's personal secretary!] [I just want to tell you that you've kidnapped the wrong person. Everyone in the company knows our CEO has always kept his personal life clean and never had any children.] [The only child he acknowledges is the actress's son, Leo. Please don't hurt an innocent child!] The kidnapper sneered, pressing the cleaver against my son's neck, his tone freezing: "I'll give you ten minutes to get Arthur Sterling on the phone. Otherwise, I'm going to use this kid's head as a soccer ball!" Helpless, the secretary had no choice but to call Arthur's number. "Hello? Who are you looking for?" A young, childish voice answered, filled with joy. The next second, an indulgent male voice could be heard. "Leo, the paper airplane is ready. Come here, Daddy Arthur will play with you." The boy cheered, laughing happily: "Okay! Daddy Arthur, someone is looking for you." Arthur took the phone, sounding displeased: "What is it? Didn't I tell you today is Leo's birthday, and that I'm not to be disturbed no matter what happens?!" The secretary froze for a second before immediately asking: "Mr. Sterling, do you have another son named Tommy? He..." "Enough!" Arthur angrily cut the secretary off: "I don't know how much Chloe paid you, but I'm warning you, stop using children as a pathetic ploy to get my attention." "I only have one son right now, and that's Leo." "Don't ever mention anyone else to me again!" With that, the line went dead again. His voice echoed throughout the entire live stream, completely extinguishing the light in my son's eyes. Perhaps he didn't understand what "paid you" meant, but he knew one thing for sure: his dad had abandoned him. Muttering that realization, my son closed his eyes, his heart turning to ash. In that moment, he stopped struggling. The live stream was automatically shut down due to suspected violations. Furious and humiliated, the kidnapper raised the cleaver, ready to strike, but his accomplice stopped him. Looking at my son's innocent, bruised face, he suggested: "Forget it. Since Arthur Sterling refuses to acknowledge him, this kid is useless now." "Just chop off one of his hands and dump him at Arthur's villa." "Since he wants his mom so badly, give him a chance to collect her body." The kidnapper scoffed, moving the cleaver to my son's left arm. As the cleaver fell, my son's agonizing screams echoed through the entire warehouse. Meanwhile, Arthur, who was busy helping a child cut a birthday cake, suddenly felt a sharp jolt in his heart. 4 When he woke up again, my son, now missing a hand, had been dumped by the kidnappers outside Arthur's sprawling villa. In the courtyard sat a massive, elaborate toy castle. Arthur and Mia were playing games with Leo. The continuous sound of joyful laughter drifted over, reviving my son's consciousness. He painfully rolled over, staring blankly at the happy scene in the courtyard, his eyes welling with tears. Soon, he remembered what the kidnappers had said. Collect Mommy's body... Right. I have to collect Mommy's body. Even though he didn't fully understand what "collecting a body" meant, his instinct told him it was incredibly important to Mommy. With that thought, he didn't even have time to process the agonizing pain in his shoulder. Using his only remaining right hand, he dragged himself across the rough ground. Inch by inch, he painfully crawled toward the massive gates of the villa. Sharp stones sliced his palm; gravel dug deep into his raw wounds. Every single movement was sheer torture. This was the same child who used to cry and hide in my arms over a minor scrape. This time, he only whimpered a few times silently before immediately continuing his agonizing crawl. He stared at the increasingly closer gates of the villa, muttering to himself: "It doesn't hurt... Tommy doesn't hurt... I have to collect Mommy's body..." When he finally touched the gate, my son let out a sigh of relief. He raised his head and used his very last ounce of strength to scream. "Daddy!" Hearing the sound, Arthur instinctively turned his head. When he saw the tiny, curled-up figure outside the gate, the man froze, a flicker of heartbreak flashing in his eyes. Just as he was about to step forward, Mia interrupted him. "Arthur, is that Tommy? Why is he here? Didn't Chloe say they were kidnapped?" Mia's expression briefly twisted, but her voice remained soft and gentle as water. "But then again, it makes sense. Chloe has always been jealous of how well you treat me and Leo. Trying to ruin Leo's birthday is exactly her style." "It's just pitiful for Tommy. Being used like this at such a young age." Hearing Mia's words, Arthur's heart hardened once more. He looked at my son from a distance, his voice cold and merciless: "What? Your mom's calls didn't work, so she sent you here to play the victim?!" "I can't believe I have a son like you. You're an embarrassment. From now on, without my permission, you are not allowed to call me 'Daddy'." "I'll count to three. Get up right now, or don't blame me for what happens next!" My son moved his pale lips, trying to explain, but the pain had long since drained him of all strength. Seeing no reaction, Arthur's anger flared. He turned, grabbed a heavy model airplane from the yard, and hurled it viciously at my son. "I told you to get up! Stop acting!" The model shattered against my son's forehead with a loud crack. Blood dripped into his eyes, dyeing his vision red. He wanted to tell his dad that he wasn't acting. That Tommy was in so much pain. But he had no strength left. Seeing his son still unmoving, Arthur's fury peaked. He shook off Mia's hand and marched toward my son: "You're still refusing to listen, aren't you?! Believe it or not, I'll—" Before he could finish, a harsh ringtone pierced the air. "Hello, is this Mr. Arthur Sterling? We received a report that your child was live-streamed by kidnappers this morning, and the mother was killed on the scene." "We need you to come to the police station immediately to assist with our investigation." Clatter! The phone slipped from his grasp. Arthur saw the blood covering my son, and his eyes instantly turned blood-red. My son finally found a sliver of strength. He raised his head and, using his only remaining right hand, feebly tugged at Arthur's pant leg: "Mister... could you please lend me some money... to help me bury my mom?"
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