Chapter 4: The Final Blow

"Honey, how could I really give ten million?"

I spoke with a smirk, as if the idea was laughable. The hope in the room died a quick death. Everyone stared at me in disbelief.

"This is something for the police to handle. The police will handle it. The kid's in their hands now. We'll just wait."

I waved my hand dismissively, as if the matter was out of my hands. The chat exploded again, disbelief and anger reignited. I didn't care.

Papers and mugs crashed to the floor as Autumn lost control, sending everything on the table flying. She was on the edge.

She swept her arm across the table, sending papers and mugs crashing to the floor. Her scream was raw, animal. The sound was primal.

"Graham, you could save the child just by paying! If you wait for the police to find him, can the child last that long?"

She pleaded, voice shaking. The desperation in her words was mirrored in every face around her. The room was suffocating.

"What if the kidnapper kills him? The child's ears and limbs are almost gone. Are you really clinging to your money?"

Her accusation was brutal, cutting to the heart of the matter. The room fell silent, everyone waiting for my response. The pressure was immense.

"Do you just want the child dead?"

The question was a challenge, daring me to deny it. I met her gaze, unflinching. My face was a mask.

I looked up at her, eyes empty and cold.

My eyes were cold, unreadable. The silence stretched, heavy with meaning. The air was thick.

"Then what do you want to do?"

My tone was flat, as if we were discussing a business deal, not our son’s life. The room seemed to shrink.

Wiping her tears, she grabbed her bag and spoke with determination. Her voice was steady, unbreakable.

She straightened her shoulders, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her resolve was unbreakable. She would not let me stop her.

"Of course, gather the money to save the child first. After the kidnapper releases him, then call the police."

She outlined her plan, voice steady. She refused to give up, no matter how hopeless it seemed. She was relentless.

"What money could be more important than a child?"

Her words rang out, shaming everyone in the room. Even the bodyguards looked away, unable to meet her gaze. The truth was undeniable.

You can't risk calling the police and angering the kidnapper—but it was already too late.

The realization hit her like a truck. She stared at me, horror dawning in her eyes. The damage was done.

I'd already called the police the first chance I got.

I shrugged, unapologetic. The damage was done, and there was no going back. The silence was heavy.

The assistant who had been sent to call the police hesitated, wanting to say something, but thought better of it.

He hovered in the doorway, mouth open, but thought better of it. The tension in the room was suffocating. No one spoke.

Autumn held her chin high and explained her plan, tears still wet on her cheeks. Her voice trembled, but her determination was clear.

She faced the room, voice trembling but determined. She laid out her plan, desperate for someone to back her up. The weight of hope was crushing.

"I've checked. We don't have that much cash right now, but that's okay."

She spoke quickly, already calculating the logistics in her head. Her mind raced, searching for solutions. She would not be stopped.

"I've already talked to my friends in the wives' circle. We'll pawn our cars and houses first."

She rattled off her contacts, the names of friends willing to help. Her network became her lifeline. She would move mountains for Mason.

"After the child is rescued, we'll pay them back slowly, and the money in the company account..."

She trailed off, hope flickering in her eyes. She clung to the possibility, no matter how slim. She was desperate.

"The child is still waiting for us."

Her voice broke, but she pressed on. She refused to let despair win. Her love was fierce.

She covered her face, sobbing, and threw herself into my arms, her body wracked with grief.

Her body shook with sobs as she buried her face in my chest. The pain was overwhelming, her love for Mason burning brighter than ever. Nothing else mattered.

"I started from scratch with you. We've been married nine years and only have this one son!"

She reminded me of our history, our sacrifices. The weight of our shared past pressed down on us both. The past felt like a burden.

"He's my everything!"

The words were a plea and a declaration. She clung to me, unwilling to let go. Her voice was raw.

Tears soaked my suit. I could only see the back of Autumn's head. The child's screams continued in the livestream. It had been twelve hours since Mason was kidnapped. Time dragged on.

Her tears left dark stains on my jacket. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, marking every agonizing minute. Mason’s cries echoed through the speakers, a constant reminder of our failure. The night felt endless.

The kidnapper, having received no reply, was about to mutilate Mason further.

The chat exploded with panic. The kidnapper’s shadow loomed over Mason, crowbar in hand, the threat all too real. The fear was suffocating.

For now, the livestream location was hidden. These criminals had planned everything meticulously. If no money was given, the child would probably be tortured to death before the police could find him. The odds were against us.

Detectives in the background whispered urgently, tracking IP addresses and scanning the livestream for clues. The sense of helplessness was suffocating. The tension was unbearable.

Before the people Autumn called arrived, I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to sit. She struggled, but I held her in place, my grip unyielding. Her fear was palpable.

I grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to sit. She struggled, but I held her in place, my grip unyielding. Her cries filled the room.

I shook my head, letting out a cold laugh at her naïveté. The sound was bitter, echoing off the walls.

"Honey, do you really think he'll release the child if we pay?"

I asked the question like it was obvious, as if she was a fool for hoping. The words stung, but I didn't care.

"He's already blinded the kid. Killing him after getting the money is way easier than letting him go."

I laid out the logic, my voice flat. The truth was brutal, but I didn’t sugarcoat it. There was no point.

Autumn stared at me in shock, but then there was a knock at the door—a sudden, sharp interruption.

She froze, eyes wide. The knock sounded like salvation, a lifeline thrown in the darkness. She clung to hope.

That sound was like a lifeline to her. She didn't wait for me to finish and rushed to open it, hope blazing in her eyes.

She bolted from the sofa, nearly tripping in her haste. Hope lit her face for a split second before reality set in.

"Are you serious? As long as we pay, the child..."

She called out as she ran, the hope in her voice heartbreaking. She yanked the door open, praying for a miracle. The world seemed to pause.

The front door was pushed open. Police officers in uniform entered. Autumn broke down completely, her composure shattering.

The sight of the uniforms shattered her. She collapsed, sobbing, as the officers filed in, faces grim. The room grew tense.

"Why did you call the police? Save the child first!"

Her voice was desperate, accusing. She clung to the nearest officer, begging for help. Her hope was slipping away.

"Did you never intend to pay to save him from the start?"

She turned to me, eyes blazing. The betrayal in her voice was unmistakable. Her pain was raw.

I shrugged, palms up. I didn't deny it. The gesture was casual, almost bored. The room recoiled in disgust. No one spoke.

I cleared my throat, stepping back as Autumn fell to her knees. The officers watched, stunned. The silence was suffocating.

"Think about it. With ten million, we could raise several more kids."

I spoke as if I was discussing stocks, not children. The callousness in my voice made even the officers flinch. Disgust rippled through the room.

"Besides, even if the child comes back, he'll be disabled. Without his eyes, life will be miserable."

I stated it bluntly, the words hanging in the air like poison. The silence that followed was suffocating. No one dared break it.

The police frowned, wanting to say something but hesitating. Finally, one couldn't hold back and spoke up, voice trembling with anger.

One officer stepped forward, face red with anger. He struggled to keep his voice steady. The tension was palpable.

"Mr. Graham, since you called the police to save him, don't provoke the kidnapper. Focus on protecting the child!"

His words were urgent, almost pleading. The other officers nodded in agreement. The room was united against me.

"The most important thing now is the child. How could you..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. The disbelief in his eyes was mirrored by everyone in the room. The silence was heavy.

Ten million for a child...

The phrase echoed in my mind—absurd and yet horrifyingly real. The value of a life, reduced to a number. It was almost too much to process.

I sighed, reaching for Autumn. My hand hovered, unsure, before I helped her up.

I reached out, lifting her gently. She resisted, but I forced her to her feet. The gesture was empty, but necessary. She pulled away.

"It's okay. The police will get justice for the child."

I spoke with forced reassurance, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears. I didn't believe them.

Stiff all over, she pushed me away, crying and unwilling to accept it. Her grief was a wall I couldn't breach.

She shoved me, tears streaming down her face. Her body shook with sobs, her grief overwhelming. The pain was endless.

The police were speechless. They'd probably never seen a father so heartless, unwilling to save his child even when he had the money. The room was thick with judgment.

The officers exchanged glances, their disbelief turning to anger. One muttered something under his breath, shaking his head. The tension simmered.

"Officer, it's not illegal to refuse to pay a ransom."

I stated the fact, my tone clinical. The words felt cold, but I didn’t care. I was numb.

"I'll just have another child."

I shrugged, the callousness in my voice shocking even myself. The silence in the room was deafening. No one could look at me.

"You monster!"

Someone spat the word, unable to hold back any longer. The accusation hung in the air, sharp and final. The label stuck.

The livestream continued. The bloody scenes almost made Autumn faint. Afraid of losing contact with the kidnapper, the platform—under police orders—didn't ban the stream but only blurred the gore with digital mosaics. The horror was still palpable.

The platform scrambled to comply, adding digital mosaics to the worst of the violence. Still, the screams and chaos bled through, impossible to erase. The horror persisted.

Unfortunately, even through the blurred images and piercing screams, the kidnapper's actions were still clear. There was no escape from the violence.

Even with the gore blurred, the horror was unmistakable. The sound of Mason’s cries was enough to haunt anyone. The pain was universal.

Hearing me say I'd have another child and give up on Mason, Autumn slumped to the floor, despair written on her face. She was broken.

She slumped to the floor, clutching her stomach, as if the pain was physical. Her sobs were quiet now, the sound of someone truly broken. The room was silent.

"Forget it. I'll never have another child with you."

She spat the words, her voice hollow. The finality was absolute. There was no coming back from this.

"All these years working with you, I misjudged you."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. The regret in her voice was palpable. She was done.

"Let's get a divorce."

She said it quietly, but the words were like a bomb. The room went silent, everyone stunned. The world shifted.

Autumn wanted a divorce. If she could get half the assets, she could still try to save the child—her motive was survival, not revenge.

She straightened her back, resolve hardening. The divorce wasn’t just about revenge—it was about survival, about giving Mason one last chance. Her determination was clear.

The police behind her immediately relaxed. Some even wanted to applaud her for finally seeing through me, the monster. They supported her.

One officer let out a sigh of relief, another nodded in silent approval. The mood shifted, hope returning to the room. Autumn became their focus.

The police ignored me and moved closer to discuss the case with her, not even glancing my way. I was irrelevant.

They circled around Autumn, offering comfort and advice. I was invisible, irrelevant. The room was no longer mine.

"Ms. Graham, the child's situation is critical. If the kidnapper contacts you again, please..."

The lead detective handed her a phone, his tone gentle but urgent. He explained the next steps, outlining the plan. She listened intently.

Someone took the phone from my hand, afraid I'd hang up on the kidnapper again. Surrounded by the crowd, Autumn managed a grateful smile, though her face was full of worry. She clung to hope.

A young officer gently pried the phone from my grasp, shooting me a look of disgust. Autumn smiled weakly, clinging to the hope that the professionals could do what I would not. The baton was passed.

"With the police here, I feel better."

Her voice was shaky, but sincere. She looked at the officers, gratitude in her eyes. The support was a lifeline.

"I'll try to gather the money first. I've already contacted my friends..."

She explained her plan, determination shining through her exhaustion. She refused to give up. The fight was not over.

Ten million is a huge sum, but as a mother, she couldn't just give up on her child. The cost meant nothing to her.

The enormity of the task didn’t faze her. She was willing to move mountains, sell everything, if it meant saving Mason. She was unstoppable.

Covering her face, Autumn trembled as she listened to her child's screams. The pain was unbearable.

Her hands shook violently, tears soaking her palms. The sound of Mason’s cries tore at her soul. She was breaking.

"If Mason dies, I won't go on living either."

Her voice was a whisper, but the threat was real. The room went silent, everyone understanding the depth of her pain. The gravity was crushing.

After she said this, all eyes turned to me. The judgment was suffocating.

The silence was heavy, judgmental. Every gaze was a silent accusation. I felt the weight of a thousand stares.

Someone cursed under their breath. The front door was kicked open again. Several wealthy women led the way, glanced inside, and walked straight to Autumn. The cavalry had arrived.

The door flew open, and a group of well-dressed women swept in, their faces set with determination. They ignored me completely, heading straight for Autumn. I was invisible.

"Autumn! We heard what happened. Don't worry about the money!"

Their voices were warm, supportive. They surrounded Autumn, offering comfort and solidarity. She was not alone.

"The child comes first. We've all watched Mason grow up!"

They reminded her of the community that had always been there, the friendships forged over years of playdates and PTA meetings. The network was strong.

"No matter what, as parents, how could we just watch a child get hurt?"

One woman, her voice trembling with emotion, spoke for everyone. The support in the room was overwhelming. The tide had turned.

"Graham, you're not a real man!"

The words were spat with venom, the disdain in her eyes unmistakable. The group closed ranks around Autumn, shutting me out. I was an outcast.

***

A group of people surrounded Autumn. The bodyguard carried in boxes of cash. The wealthy women who were usually close to Autumn stepped up, laying piles of cash on the floor. The generosity was staggering.

The sight was surreal—stacks of bills, jewelry boxes, even car keys, all offered up for Mason’s sake. The air buzzed with hope and urgency. The stakes had never been higher.

Behind them were a few of my company's partners. In the same social circle, knowing I was letting my son die, they looked at me with disdain and mocked me. Their scorn was palpable.

My business partners stood back, arms crossed, their faces twisted in contempt. They whispered among themselves, their judgment clear. I had lost their respect.

"Graham, business and being a decent person are the same. Some people, you can tell right away they're rotten inside."

The words stung, but I refused to react. Their respect was gone, replaced by scorn. I felt nothing.

"How can you be so foolish at your age, clinging to ten million and ruining your company's reputation online."

They shook their heads, disbelief and disappointment in their eyes. The livestream had made me infamous, for all the wrong reasons. My downfall was public.

"At least you're famous now. With you like this, who would want to work with you in the future?"

The sarcasm was biting. The damage to my reputation was already done, and everyone knew it. There was no going back.

"We're not helping for your sake, but for your wife's."

They made it clear—their loyalty was to Autumn, not me. She was the heart of our family, the reason people cared. I was irrelevant.

Autumn was full of gratitude, crying tears of joy, her face never drying, bowing and thanking everyone. She didn't even look at me. Her focus was on Mason.

She bowed low, tears streaming down her face. She clung to the hands of her friends, whispering thanks. She refused to acknowledge my presence. I was invisible.

"Thank you all. I won't take this money for nothing. Consider it a loan."

She insisted on fairness, her pride intact even in desperation. The women nodded, understanding. The bonds were unbreakable.

"I won't take it for free. We'll use our property and cars as collateral, whatever you want."

She produced a stack of paperwork, ready to sign over anything and everything. Her determination was unbreakable. She would stop at nothing.

She took out the contracts the wealthy women had prepared, ready to sign. Her resolve never wavered.

The documents were passed around, pens clicking. Autumn’s hands shook, but she pressed on, determined to save Mason. The urgency was palpable.

I crossed my arms, letting out a cold chuckle. The sound was sharp, slicing through the tension in the room.

I watched the scene with a smirk, arms folded. The sound was cold, mocking. No one dared meet my eyes.

"What help? They're just taking advantage of the situation."

I sneered, dismissing their generosity. The room turned on me, the contempt in their eyes burning. I was alone.

"Trying to get a good deal."

I muttered under my breath, the words bitter. No one bothered to respond. My words fell flat.

One of the men who came with his wife couldn't take it anymore and grabbed my collar, rage boiling over.

He lunged at me, fists clenched, rage etched on his face. He shook me, voice trembling with anger. The confrontation was explosive.

"Graham, everyone is helping you save your kid, and you're talking crap?"

He let go, disgusted. The room buzzed with tension, everyone on edge. The hostility was thick.

The pen in Autumn's hand was snatched away. Several men and police stood together, glaring at me, breathing heavily. They formed a wall.

They formed a wall between me and Autumn, their protectiveness palpable. The air was thick with hostility. I was cut off.

"Don't sign. Take the money to save the kid first. Once he's safe, we'll settle things with him!"

One of the officers spoke up, his voice firm. The others nodded, united in their resolve. The focus was on Mason.

Her hand froze awkwardly in mid-air. Hearing they'd save the child first, Autumn cried tears of joy and nearly knelt to thank them. Relief washed over her.

She collapsed to her knees, sobbing with relief. Her gratitude was overwhelming, the hope in her eyes shining through the tears. The room breathed easier.

"Thank you, thank you all."

She repeated the words, voice shaking. The room responded with murmurs of comfort and support. The community rallied.

In the livestream, Autumn followed police instructions, contacting the kidnapper step by step. When the call came to my phone again, her eyes glistened with tears and she finally relaxed, hope returning.

She followed every instruction to the letter, her hands shaking as she dialed. When the kidnapper answered, she nearly collapsed with relief. The ordeal was far from over.

"The child can be saved."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the hope was unmistakable. The room erupted in cheers, the tension breaking for a moment. Joy was fleeting.

Everyone cheered. Viewers and police in the livestream breathed a sigh of relief. After the call ended, I pushed aside the man blocking me and stepped forward, reclaiming the spotlight.

The celebration was short-lived. I elbowed my way to the front, determined to take control. The mood soured instantly.

"I'll take the money and exchange it for the child."

I spoke with authority, as if I was the hero of the story. The room fell silent, everyone staring at me. Suspicion filled the air.

The room went silent for a second. Disdainful looks and sneers came from all around. Autumn wanted to say something but was stopped by the police. The distrust was thick.

She opened her mouth, but an officer shook his head, signaling her to stay silent. The distrust in the room was palpable. I felt their eyes on me.

"Right now, no one is more suitable than Mr. Graham to deliver the money."

The lead detective spoke up, his tone neutral. He looked at me, eyes hard. The responsibility was mine.

"He's the child's father."

The words were loaded, a reminder of my responsibility. The room watched, waiting for my next move. The pressure was immense.

The kidnapper only gave one hour. After that, he'd kill the child. The clock was ticking.

The deadline loomed, the pressure mounting. Every second counted. The tension was unbearable.

With the police putting a tracker in the cash box, I drove to the designated location. Viewers in the livestream anxiously watched the rescue, time ticking by. The world held its breath.

The cash box was heavy in my hands as I walked to the car. The police attached the tracker, their faces tense. The world watched as I drove into the night, the clock ticking down. Every moment mattered.

Until...

The tension was unbearable, every eye glued to the screen. The police monitored my progress, hope and fear mingling. The suspense was suffocating.

"Where is he?"

A voice in the control room broke the silence. Panic crept in. The room froze.

"Only five minutes left until the deadline. Where's the father who was supposed to deliver the money?"

The question echoed, the dread in the room palpable. The viewers' anxiety reached a fever pitch. The world waited.

"My god, did he really just watch his child die?"

The realization dawned, horror spreading. People gasped, unable to comprehend what was happening. Disbelief reigned.

At the tracking station, a police officer suddenly cursed, pointing at the screen and shouting. The tension snapped.

He slammed his fist on the table, eyes wide with fury. The tension snapped. Chaos erupted.

"Why did the car stop? It's off route!"

The officer’s voice was sharp, panic rising. The screen showed my car parked, far from the meeting point. The truth was clear.

"He never intended to save the child! He parked the car with the money and is letting the child die on purpose!"

The accusation was brutal, but undeniable. The room erupted in chaos, everyone shouting at once. The betrayal was total.

Faces went pale. A fist slammed on the table. Even the seasoned police officer's eyes turned red. Autumn couldn't stand and collapsed to the ground. The devastation was complete.

The shock was overwhelming. Autumn crumpled, sobbing, as the officers scrambled for answers. The room spun.

"Time... it's too late."

A whisper in the crowd, hopeless and broken. The reality settled in—Mason was out of time. The finality was crushing.

Someone murmured, and everyone stared blankly at the screen. The next second, the alarm on the kidnapper's phone went off. The world stopped.

The room fell silent, every eye glued to the screen. The tension was unbearable. The moment stretched.

"Ahhh!"

Mason’s scream pierced the silence, raw and desperate. The sound was a knife to the heart. No one could breathe.

Screams rang out. The man kicked the child hard, sending him sprawling onto the concrete. The violence was relentless.

The camera shook as Mason’s body hit the ground. The chat exploded with horror, people begging for someone to intervene. The world watched in horror.

"Dad, Mom, save me!"

His voice was weak, but the words were clear. The plea was heartbreaking. The pain was immeasurable.

With only enough strength for one last scream, the kidnapper raised the iron rod and struck the child's head hard. The screen went black, and the livestream ended abruptly. The silence was suffocating.

The final blow landed with a sickening thud. The screen cut to black, the silence that followed more terrifying than the violence. The end had come.

In the silence, the sound of sobbing was heartbreaking. The grief was overwhelming.

Autumn’s wails filled the room, her grief unbearable. The viewers online wept, the sense of loss overwhelming. The pain was endless.

No one expected that I would really give up the child. The shock was total.

The realization settled over the room like a shroud. People stared at me, mouths open, unable to comprehend what I’d done. The horror was absolute.

"Wuwuwu, my child... my child!" Autumn’s cries echoed through the house, each one a dagger to the heart. Her pain was infinite, her hope shattered. The agony was raw.

Autumn broke down, crying and trying to find her son. Someone couldn't help but curse, their rage boiling over.

She crawled across the floor, searching for Mason as if he might still be there. Someone in the crowd spat curses, unable to contain their rage. The room was chaos.

"That's murder!"

The accusation was loud, final. The room erupted in chaos, people shouting and sobbing. The verdict was unanimous.

Viewers went wild cursing me. Clearly, paying the ransom could have saved the child, but I disappeared with the money and watched him die. The world turned against me.

The chat was a firestorm, people calling for justice, for revenge. My name trended for all the wrong reasons. The backlash was total.

"Don't worry, we'll definitely get justice for you and your child."

A police officer knelt beside Autumn, voice gentle but determined. The promise was a lifeline, thin but unbreakable. The world demanded justice.

Veins bulged on his forehead, the police gritted their teeth, until the door burst open, breaking the tension.

The tension snapped as the door flew open. Every eye turned, hope and dread mingling. The next act was about to begin.

"Bang!"

The sound echoed, sharp and final. The room held its breath. The moment was electric.

Everyone looked at me. Backlit, I stepped into the house with the car keys in hand, the sound of my leather shoes echoing on the floor. All eyes were on me.

I paused in the doorway, the keys dangling from my fingers. The light behind me cast my shadow long and dark across the floor. Every step I took was deliberate, the echo of my shoes a countdown to confrontation. The tension was palpable.

"Graham, you dare come back?!"

The police officer’s shout was raw, his face twisted in rage and disbelief. The crowd surged forward, ready to tear me apart. The room was a powder keg.

Red-eyed, the police glared at me. The child was so close to being saved... The regret was bitter.

Their anger radiated from every corner of the room. Autumn’s sobs quieted, replaced by a cold, brittle silence. The world waited.

In front of everyone, I walked straight to Autumn, every step deliberate, every eye on me.

I strode across the room, all eyes on me. The tension was electric, the outcome uncertain. The final confrontation loomed.

I raised my hand and slapped Autumn hard across the face. The blow echoed through the room.

The sound of the slap echoed, sharp and shocking. Autumn reeled, clutching her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief and pain. The room erupted in chaos, but I stood my ground, unmoved, as the world watched my final act of cruelty.