Revenge for Mum
The distorted voice on the other end of the line was cold, deliberate. “Your daughters with us. Bring £100,000, and she lives. Ill send the coordinates later.”
“Youyou dare make demands of me!” Michaels grip tightened on the phone, but the call had already ended.
Michael Harrington was a man of precisioncontrolled, calculating, and ruthless. Only with his beloved wife, Charlotte, and adored daughter, Emily, did he soften, and even then, not often.
Cross him once, and hed remind them all who ruled the household.
“Im the one who keeps this family afloat!”
And it was true. The detached house in Surrey was his doing. Charlotte worked only to flaunt her dresses, and Emily drove herself to university in the car hed bought her.
Yet somehow, they still forgot.
Hed had to *remind* them again when he discovered Emily was seeing some struggling violinist, Sebastian.
“That boys beneath you! You wont see him again!” Michaels voice left no room for argument. “What kind of man makes a living scraping a fiddle?”
Too thin, too soft. A bloody intellectual.
“Im going to marry him!” Emily shot back. “Its my choice!”
“I raised you. *I* decide!”
“Im eighteen, Dad. Im an adult, and”
“Enough! My house, my rules.”
Emily fled in tears. Charlotte didnt speak to him for days. But Michael didnt carehed laid down the law.
Besides, he had real problems. Unlike his daughters tantrums.
His childhood friend, Jamesthe one hed built the concrete business withwas stirring trouble again.
Theyd only just cleared their debts, built a solid team, greased the right palms. Finally, they were turning a profit. Now, James was whining about expansion.
Usually, their arguments were short-lived. But this time, James dug in his heels. Threatened to split the business.
As if *he* was the one dealing with the fallout of reckless ideas.
Two weeks passed. Things settled. James dropped his nonsense. Emily attended lectures, kept her evenings at homeno sign of Sebastian.
Until Michael spotted her one night, arm in arm with a boy.
“Emily! What the hell are you doing out so late?” He slammed the car to a stop beside them. “Whos this?”
The dim streetlight hid the boys face at first. Then recognition struck.
“Bloody hell, you traded the violinist for a *labourer*? Trying to spite me? Get in the car!”
Emily scowled, ready to snap backbut the boy spoke first.
“You dont own her. Just because youve got money doesnt mean”
“Shut it, you little *rat*,” Michael cut him off. “Youre fired. And *you*” He turned to Emily. “Get in. Now.”
She hesitated, then obeyed.
Good. Thats how it should be.
The boyRyan, one of their warehouse ladshad nerve. But Michael had broken tougher men.
For a week, order seemed restored. Until he spotted Emily with Ryan again.
They vanished before he could confront them. But that evening, the house erupted.
To his shock, Charlotte sided with Emily. They called him a tyrant. Said they couldnt live with him.
“Then leave! No ones stopping you.”
And they did. Suitcases in hand, faces set in defiance.
Let them see how long they lasted without him.
A week later, Charlotte called.
“MichaelEmilys gone. Two days, no word. Her phones off. Weve checked everywhere. Should we call the police?”
So, theyd moved in with Charlottes friend.
“No police. Come home. *Ill* find her.”
Before he could plot his next move, the phone rang again.
“Your daughters with us. Bring £100,000, and she lives.”
“You *bastard*” The line went dead.
A video followed. Emily, dishevelled, wrists boundbut alive. Silent. Defiant.
Michaels blood boiled.
James, despite their feud, agreed to help.
“We should call the police,” James muttered. “And the money”
“No. Ill handle this myself. The money stays with us.”
At the abandoned factory, Ryan waited.
Michael lungedJames yanked him back.
Ryan smirked. “Drop the bag in the sewer.”
Hatred burned in Michaels chest, but he obeyed.
Ryan turned to leave.
“You think youll walk away from this? Wheres Emily?”
“Shes fine. Shell call when shes ready.”
“Youre *dead*.”
Ryan scoffed. “I dont care. I did what I had tofor my mum.”
“Your *what*?”
“Olivia. Worked as your cleaner for seven years. Until she caught Charlotte in bed with another man.”
Michaels jaw clenched.
“Charlotte fired hersaid she was stealing. No proof. Just lies. Mum had a weak heart. Worked herself to death for *your* scraps.”
Ryans voice cracked. “She collapsed in the street the next day. No one helped. If not for *you*”
“And now youre going to prison,” Michael spat.
Ryan laughed bitterly. “Emily wont let that happen. This was *her* idea. The moneys already safe. Youd have to arrest your own daughter.”
“*Liar*!”
“Ask James about love. *He* was the one in bed with Charlotte.”
Ryan revved his bike and vanished.
Michael punched James. Again. And again.
He divorced Charlotte. Left her a one-bed flat. The business stayed hished paid enough for her betrayal.
As for Emily? No police. No charges.
She vanishedrumour said shed fled abroad with Sebastian.
Maybe shed return someday.
Maybe not.
