[POV Xander]
The drive to the park passed in a blur of panic and recrimination. My mind raced through every recent conflict, every warning sign I'd dismissed or minimized. The school pickup attempt I'd written off as overzealous. Bianca's threats delivered with ice-cold precision in that rooftop bar.
Someone had been planning this. Someone had watched and waited and struck at the moment we were most vulnerable.
By the time we reached Maple Street, police cars had already gathered near the duck pond. Officers fanned out across the grounds, walkie-talkies crackling with updates. Sarah now stood near the playground, and Nina clutched against her hip, her face pale but composed in that terrifying way she had of holding herself together through sheer force of will.
"Any news?" I reached for her, pulling her and Nina both into my arms.
"Nothing yet," her voice was steady, but I could feel her trembling against me. "The police are reviewing security footage from the surrounding buildings. Someone must have seen something."
"Daddy, where's Lisa?" Nina's small voice cut through the chaos. "She was right there and then she wasn't. I didn't see her go."
"We're going to find her, baby," I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I promise."
It tasted like ash. I'd made so many promises lately—to protect my family, to keep them safe, to be the father my daughters deserved. And now one of them was gone, taken while I sat in a boardroom preparing to defend my corporate legacy.
I didn’t want to admit it, but my mother was my first suspect. The confrontation happened within the hour, my driver racing across the city to Eleanor's townhouse while police continued their search at the park.
I didn't knock. I used my key and found her in the sitting room, a cup of tea growing cold on the table beside her.
"Where is she?" My voice came out brutal, accusatory. "What did you do with Lisa?"
Eleanor's face went white. "What are you talking about? Alexander, son, you're frightening me."
"Lisa disappeared from the park this morning, vanished while the nanny's back was turned." I stepped closer, watching her expression for any flicker of guilt. "You've been pushing for more access to the twins. You wanted them away from us—well, congratulations. Now one of them is gone."
"I would never—" Eleanor rose from her chair, her hands trembling visibly. "Son, I would never hurt those children. Whatever you think of me, whatever I've done, they're my granddaughters."
The bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. "You've spent every moment since you know they existed trying to undermine their mother and destabilize our family."
"To protect you!" Her voice cracked, genuine horror bleeding through. "Everything I've done was to protect you from a woman I believed was manipulating you. I never—I would never involve the children in this. Not like this."
I studied her face, searching for the lie. But all I saw was fear—real, visceral fear that matched my own. Eleanor was many things, but she wasn't a kidnapper. She wasn't capable of this particular cruelty.
Which left only one possibility.
"Bianca," the name came out like a curse. "It was Bianca Ashfold."
Eleanor's expression shifted, understanding dawning. "The woman from the gala? Your former—"
"She threatened Daphne in the elevator last week. Said she would ruin everything we held close," the pieces clicked together with sickening clarity. "She's been positioning herself for leverage this whole time. The blackmail, the demands that I step away from the company. When none of it worked, she escalated."
"What kind of blackmail?" Eleanor's voice sharpened.
I didn't answer. I was already moving toward the door, my phone pressed to my ear, calling the detective assigned to Lisa's case.
"I need you to look into someone," I said the moment he answered. "Bianca Ashford, former wife of Victor Ashford. She has a motive and she's made direct threats against my family."
The detective took down the information, promised to investigate, and cautioned me about making accusations without evidence. I barely heard him. All I could think about was Lisa—my quiet, thoughtful daughter with her mother's eyes and my stubborn jaw. Alone somewhere with a woman who saw her as leverage rather than a child.
By evening, the search had expanded citywide. Police issued an alert with Lisa's photo. News vans gathered outside our building, reporters shouting questions we couldn't answer. The penthouse filled with officers and detectives, their radios a constant backdrop of static and coded updates.
Daphne sat on the couch, Nina finally asleep against her shoulder, her face drawn but her eyes fierce. She'd spent hours coordinating with police, reviewing security footage, calling everyone who might have information. She'd unraveled in those first terrible moments at the park, but she'd reassembled herself through sheer will, becoming something harder and more focused than I'd ever seen.
I watched her from across the room, guilt churning in my stomach.
She didn't know about Bianca's blackmail. Didn't know about Lora or the murder accusation or the choice I'd been given—surrender or exposure. I'd kept it from her, told myself I was protecting our family by staying silent.
But my silence had cost us everything. If I'd told Daphne the truth, if I'd warned her about the depth of Bianca's desperation, maybe we could have prepared. Maybe we could have seen this coming.
Instead, I'd hidden behind excuses while our enemy positioned herself for the killing blow.
"You should rest," I sat beside Daphne, my hand finding hers. "I can take Nina to bed and sit with the detectives."
"I can't," her voice was hollow. "Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. I hear her voice asking me to come home soon." Her grip on my hand tightened. "I kissed her goodbye this morning. I held her longer than usual, and I didn't even know why. Some part of me knew something was wrong, and I ignored it."
"This isn't your fault."
"Isn't it?" She finally looked at me, and the pain in her eyes was devastating. "I've been so focused on fighting Eleanor, on exposing the conspiracy, on proving I belonged in your world. I took my eyes off what mattered most."
"Daphne—"
"Someone took our daughter, Xander," her voice cracked. "Someone walked up to her in broad daylight and took her away, and I wasn't there to stop it."
I pulled her closer, pressing my lips to her hair, feeling the weight of everything I hadn't told her pressing against my chest. She blamed herself for being distracted, for focusing on the wrong threats.
But I was the one who'd known Bianca's true intentions. I was the one who'd sat across from her in that rooftop bar, heard her demands, and chosen silence over honesty.
The cost of that choice was written across Daphne's face in every line of fear and guilt. It echoed in Nina's restless sleep and Lisa's empty bed. It would haunt me for the rest of my life, however long or short that turned out to be.
"We'll find her," I whispered, the words feeling inadequate against the magnitude of what we faced. "Whatever it takes and whoever I have to destroy."
Daphne said nothing. She just held onto me and waited for news that didn't come, while somewhere in the city, our daughter waited to be found.