The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir-Chapter 69: Marcus Makes His Move

Aria’s POV - Three Days Later

I was in the middle of a conference call when my phone lit up with an unknown number. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Normally, I’d ignore it. But after Marcus’s text at the park, after the hidden bug, three days of looking over my shoulder and jumping at shadows, I couldn’t ignore anything.

"Excuse me." I muted the call. "I need to take this."

I stepped out of my home office and answered. "Hello?"

"Ms. Monroe?" A woman’s voice, professional and clipped. "This is Principal Davidson from the Academy."

My blood went cold. "Is Noah okay?"

"Noah is fine," she said quickly. "But we had an incident this morning I thought you should know about."

"What kind of incident?" I was already grabbing my keys, heading for the door.

"A man was seen taking photographs of the children during outdoor playtime." Her voice tightened. "Our security noticed him across the street with a long-range camera. When they approached, he fled."

The world tilted. "Did he—did he try to approach any of the children?"

"No. But Ms. Monroe, he seemed particularly focused on your son."

I was in my car, engine roaring to life. "I’m on my way. Don’t let Noah out of your sight."

"We’ve already moved all students inside and locked down the school." She paused. "We’ve also called the police. They’re reviewing our security footage now."

"I’ll be there in ten minutes." I ended the call and immediately dialed Damien.

He answered on the first ring. "Aria? What’s wrong?"

"Someone was taking pictures of Noah at school." My hands shook on the wheel. "Marcus sent someone to watch him, Damien. At his school."

Silence. Then: "I’m leaving now. Don’t go alone."

"I’m already on the road."

"Aria, wait for me"

"He’s my son!" The words came out as a sob. "I can’t wait. I can’t."

"I know." His voice gentled. "But Marcus wants us separated. Wants us vulnerable and alone. Please, just wait in the parking lot for me."

I wanted to argue. Wanted to burst into that school and wrap Noah in my arms and never let go.

But Damien was right. Marcus was playing games, and I couldn’t afford to make mistakes.

"Fine." I forced myself to breathe. "But hurry."

"Five minutes." I heard a car door slam on his end. "I’m already moving."

***********

The school parking lot was chaos. Police cars, concerned parents, reporters who’d somehow gotten wind of the story. I sat in my car, fingers drumming against the steering wheel, watching the front entrance like a hawk.

A sleek black Aston Martin screeched into the spot beside me. Damien emerged, his suit jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, looking barely controlled.

He came straight to my door and pulled it open. "Let’s go."

We moved through the crowd together, his hand at my back, security guards flanking us. The principal met us at the entrance, her face grave.

"Mr. Blackwood, Ms. Monroe." She gestured us inside. "Noah is in my office with his teacher. He’s not hurt, just a bit shaken."

"Shaken?" My voice came out sharp. "Why would he be shaken if the man never approached?"

Her expression tightened. "Because Noah recognized him."

Damien went completely still beside me. "What?"

"He saw the man through the fence and started crying. Said it was ’the shadow man’s friend.’" She led us down the hallway. "He became very upset, kept saying the man was there to take him again."

I thought I might be sick.

We reached her office. Through the window, I could see Noah curled up in a chair, Mr. Hoppy clutched to his chest, his teacher sitting beside him.

I didn’t knock. I just opened the door and went straight to my son.

"Mama!" He launched himself at me, tiny arms wrapping around my neck. "The bad man came back!"

"Shh, baby. I’ve got you." I held him tight, breathing in his little-boy scent. "You’re safe now."

"He had a camera." Noah’s voice was muffled against my shoulder. "Like the shadow man’s friend had in the scary place. He was taking pictures of me."

Damien knelt beside us, his hand on Noah’s back. "Did you see his face, buddy? Can you tell us what he looked like?"

Noah pulled back, his eyes red from crying. "Tall. With yellow hair. And a mean face."

Not Marcus. Marcus had dark hair, just like Damien’s.

Which meant Marcus had hired someone. Was building a network of people to watch us, follow us, photograph our son.

"The police want to talk to Noah." Principal D hovered in the doorway. "If he’s up to it."

"He’s three years old." My voice came out cold. "He’s not up to anything except going home where it’s safe."

"Ms. Monroe, I understand, but"

"No." I stood, Noah still in my arms. "You don’t understand. That man out there? He works for someone who kidnapped my son. Who held him in a warehouse and traumatized him. And you want me to let police interrogate a toddler?"

"Aria." Damien’s hand found my arm. "They need information. The more Noah can tell them, the faster they can find this guy."

I wanted to refuse. Wanted to wrap Noah in bubble wrap and hide him from the world.

But Damien was right once again.

"Five minutes." I looked at the principal. "Noah talks to them for five minutes, and then we’re leaving."

She nodded and went to get the detective.

Ten Minutes Later

Noah sat in my lap, describing the man as best he could while a kind-faced female detective took notes. Damien stood behind us, his hands on my shoulders, a solid presence.

"And you’re sure this was the same man from the warehouse?" The Detective asked gently.

Noah nodded, then paused. "Maybe? They all looked the same. Scary."

"That’s okay, sweetheart." The detective smiled at him. "You’re being very brave. Just one more question—did the man say anything to you?"

"No." Noah shook his head. "He just took pictures. Click click click." He mimicked a camera.

The Dectective closed her notebook and looked at Damien and me. "We have the school’s security footage. We’ll run facial recognition, see if we can identify him."

"How did he know which school?" I asked. "We’ve been careful. No one should know where Noah goes."

"Someone’s been doing homework." Damien’s voice was tight. "Marcus has resources. Money. He could have hired a private investigator."

"Or hacked our phones," I said bitterly. "Or bribed someone in my office. Or followed us without us noticing."

"We’ll increase security at the school." The dectective stood. "Plain clothes officers during pickup and drop-off. Cameras in all common areas."

"That’s not enough." Damien’s hands tightened on my shoulders. "My brother won’t stop. He’ll find another way to get to Noah."

"Then what do you suggest?" She looked between us.

Damien and I exchanged glances. I saw my own thoughts reflected in his eyes.