Chapter 3
The Nexus Innovations Conference Room was thick with tension. Alaric stood frozen after hanging up the phone, his expression dark and brooding. His intense gaze pierced through the air, his voice low and dangerous as he asked, “Caspian’s gone?”
On the other end of the line, Silas Moon could feel the weight of Alaric’s anger. His voice shook as he replied, “After the check-up, Caspian said he needed to use the restroom… and then he just vanished.”
It had been a critical meeting for Alaric, and he couldn’t afford to leave, so he had entrusted Silas to accompany Caspian for the follow-up appointment. His fury was palpable. “Rubbish!” Alaric spat, pacing as he spoke. “Get all the surveillance from Serenity Heights Medical Center. I’m heading there now!”
Silas responded quickly, “Yes, Mr. Knight.” His voice was tight with worry as he scrambled to comply.
Alaric’s car sped toward the hospital as his mind raced. He could feel the storm of anger brewing inside him. When Silas finally found the footage, his voice came through on the line, tinged with urgency. “Mr. Knight, we’ve got something! Caspian was taken by a woman from the restroom. I’ve already called the cops!”
Alaric’s expression turned icy at the sight of the woman on the monitor. Fury flashed in his eyes. Galatea. Did she dare lay a hand on his son? She was as good as dead.
Meanwhile, outside Serenity Heights Medical Center, Caspian walked alongside Galatea, ensuring they weren’t being followed. He had been nervous at first but had begun to feel strangely at ease, his small hand gripping hers as he said, “Mom, I’m hungry.”
Galatea raised an eyebrow at his sudden declaration. “Hungry? Did you run off without eating? What would you like?” she asked, though her tone was filled with gentle concern.
Caspian was used to a strict, regimented diet—his every meal planned by Alaric’s nutritionist, leaving him little to no say in what he ate. His answer came easily. “Whatever you take me to is fine.”
Galatea smiled. She had missed this, the simple joy of being with a child, of feeling that inexplicable bond. “Alright then,” she said, her voice softening. “How about some Arizona barbecue? I’ve been craving it since I’ve been back.”
“Sure, I’ll go wherever you say!” Caspian responded eagerly, still feeling that warmth and safety with her.
They entered a modest barbecue joint, and it was Caspian’s first time tasting the local cuisine. His eyes widened with surprise as he took his first bite. “This is so much better than the food my dad gives me,” he said, delighted.
“Eat slowly; no one’s going to take it from you,” Galatea teased. But her tone turned more serious as she added, “No matter how smart you are, you’re still a kid. Arizona’s not familiar to you, and it’s dangerous to run off on your own. I should call Mia. She’s probably worried sick about you.”
Caspian’s face shifted slightly, and before she could reach for her phone, he pressed her hand down gently. “She knows. It’s my fault. Don’t blame anyone else. Please don’t be mad,” he said quietly.
Galatea paused, her heart tugging at the sincerity in his voice. “You’re being very good at admitting your mistakes today,” she remarked, her lips curling into a small smile.
“I’m not mad,” she reassured him, placing the phone back down. “Eat up, enjoy it. If you like it, I’ll learn to make it at home for you and Elisa.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Caspian said, his words soft but filled with genuine affection.
As they finished their meal, Galatea wiped his mouth with a napkin and took his hand, ready to leave. But just as they were about to step out of the diner, the door swung open abruptly. A group of uniformed officers rushed in, surrounding Galatea and seizing her arms without warning.
“We suspect you of child trafficking. You need to come with us!” one officer barked.
Galatea froze, stunned. “Child trafficking?” she repeated, her voice a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “He’s my son! There’s some mistake!”
The officers remained stoic, their grips unyielding. “We’ll talk at the station,” one of them said, offering no room for discussion as they escorted her out.
Caspian, horrified, rushed to the front of the patrol car, his small hands pressed against the vehicle as he pleaded, “Let her go! She is my mom!”
But his cries fell on deaf ears. The patrol car drove off quickly, the officers ignoring his desperate pleas. Caspian was left standing in the parking lot, helpless, until a sleek Rolls-Royce pulled up beside him.
Before he could say anything, Alaric was there, towering over him. With a sharp, angry tone, Alaric scolded, “Caspian, what did I tell you? How could you leave with a stranger?”
Alaric had seen it all on the surveillance footage—Caspian had willingly left with the woman, which had unsettled him deeply. For a moment, he had feared she had drugged Caspian, but now it seemed there was no such issue. His rage simmered as he continued, “Speak up!”
Caspian’s voice was small and filled with guilt as he mumbled, “I didn’t want to see that woman.”
Alaric’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Orion Nash is coming home today. After my check-up, you could have seen her at home. She’s your mother.”
Caspian shook his head vehemently. “She’s not,” he protested.
“She is!” Alaric snapped, his patience running thin.
“She’s not!” Caspian’s voice grew more agitated. “If she was really my mom, why would she avoid me? Why doesn’t she love me? Her kindness is just to please you and Grandma, but I don’t like her! I don’t want her around!”
Alaric fell silent, his anger fading as he noticed the hurt in Caspian’s eyes. He understood the delicate nature of his son’s condition, and with a heavy sigh, he dialed Orion’s number, his voice cold. “Caspian’s not in a good mood. Don’t come home today.”
He hung up and turned to Caspian, his gaze softening. “Is that better now?”
Caspian nodded, though his eyes still held confusion. “But she looks like Mom to me,” he said, his voice filled with innocent sincerity. “Dad, she’s not a kidnapper. Please tell the cops to let her go. Don’t hurt her.”
Alaric’s heart clenched at the rawness in Caspian’s voice. He had always been distant with others, even with Orion, but with Galatea… he seemed to care. Perhaps more than he understood.
“Come home with me,” Alaric said softly, pulling Caspian closer. “Take your medicine, and I’ll let her go. I promise.”
Caspian’s eyes lit up. “You have to keep your promise.”
“I swear it,” Alaric said, his voice firm yet gentle.
At the police station, Galatea was beyond furious, her interrogation dragging on without end. She felt helpless as the officers dismissed her, her frustration mounting.
“He’s my son! His name is Harry! I have proof!” Galatea insisted, pulling up photos from her phone.
She showed them pictures of herself with Caspian—pictures taken with Harry and Elisa. The officers glanced at each other, stunned by the evidence.
“You can verify it,” Galatea continued, desperation creeping into her voice. “These pictures are real. If you still don’t believe me, do a DNA test. I’m not a kidnapper!”
The officers stood still for a moment, processing the images. Finally, one spoke. “Everyone knows Mr. Knight has a son, but the identity of the child’s mother has always been a mystery. Rumors have circulated that Alaric and Orion were secretly married, but it was never made public… So, the child’s mother isn’t the famous actress Orion?”
The realization hit them all—Galatea’s identity was not what they had expected, and now the questions only grew deeper.