Chapter 10: The Live Feed
Julian’s hand shook violently as he reached out and picked up the smartphone from the bedside table. The screen displayed a live video feed, broadcasting in high-definition from a camera mounted somewhere inside a dimly lit, unfamiliar room. At the center of the frame sat a heavy wooden chair, and bound securely to its seat with thick industrial zip-ties was young Mia, a strip of grey duct tape pressed firmly across her mouth to silence her muffled cries. Her long brown hair was disheveled, and her tear-stained face was pale with absolute terror.
Julian let out a choked, desperate sound that was half-sob, half-roar, staring at the screen as if his sheer willpower could reach through the glass and free his daughter.
"Mia!" he screamed out loud, pressing his face against the phone screen before remembering she couldn't hear him through the recording.
Suddenly, the audio feed on the phone clicked active, and Elena’s calm, chilling voice filled the small hospital room.
"She’s a resilient little fighter, Julian, I’ll give her that," Elena’s voice said smoothly from the device. "It took quite a bit of effort to convince the night nurse that I was her legal guardian authorized for an off-site X-ray transfer, but hospital security is notoriously lax when you wear an expensive evening gown and speak with absolute authority."
"Where is she, Elena?!" Julian roared into the phone, his voice cracking with raw agony. "What do you want? Take the money! Take the company! Take everything I own, just leave her alone!"
"Oh, we’re going to take everything, Julian. That was never in question," Elena replied, her tone shifting to one of cold, corporate negotiation. "But wealth without security is just a temporary arrangement. There’s one final document that hasn't been signed yet—the complete transfer of ownership for your grandfather's coastal estate and trust fund, which is currently locked in a physical safety deposit box at the downtown central bank."
Julian stared at the screen, his brain racing through the logistics. The coastal estate was the last remaining asset tied directly to his family lineage, completely separate from his corporate tech accounts. It was the one thing Elena hadn't been able to digitally access with his stolen credentials.
"The bank is closed, Elena! It’s the middle of the night!" Julian argued frantically.
"The bank’s automated vault system operates twenty-four hours a day for high-tier account holders with a master biometric key," Elena countered smoothly. "And you, my dear husband, happen to have your thumbprint registered right on the master app. Here is what is going to happen: You are going to leave the hospital immediately, drive down to the downtown central branch, open that vault, and transfer the physical bearer bonds into the account number scrolling across the bottom of your phone screen right now."
Julian looked down. A string of alphanumeric characters had appeared in a flashing banner beneath the live video of Mia, who was still struggling against her bonds on the screen, her brown eyes wide with silent terror.
"And if I refuse?" Julian asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper.
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"If you refuse, or if you call the police before you complete the transfer," Elena said, her voice turning as sharp as a razor blade, "our little security consultant—the man you graciously invited into your home earlier—will ensure that your daughter’s other leg meets the same fate as the first one. And this time, there won't be a hospital nearby to fix it."
The video feed cut out abruptly, plunging the phone screen into darkness. Julian stood frozen for three seconds, his chest heaving, before turning around and running out of the hospital room toward his car.
