Wealthy Seattle Tech Executive Shocked When Grieving Wife Uncovers Stolen Daughter Alive Exposing High Society Syndicate Selling Babies To Millionaire Families
CHAPTER 2
The digital smart-lock chimed softly, its electronic deadbolt sliding open with a metallic click that sounded like a gunshot inside the quiet penthouse.
My heart slammed furiously against my ribs as I snatched the utility knife off the marble island and backed toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Elliott Bay.
The heavy mahogany door swung open, but it was not Daniel who stepped across the threshold into the sunlit foyer.
Standing in the entryway was his mother, Lorraine Mendoza, wearing an ivory cashmere coat, her diamond rings catching the light as she held a spare master key fob.
Her eyes immediately landed on the shattered ceramic planter, the pile of dark potting soil, and the silver USB drive sticking out of my laptop.
"You always were an incredibly clumsy girl, Caroline," Lorraine said smoothly, her voice cool, sharp, and entirely devoid of surprise. "Daniel told me you had an uncanny knack for ruining expensive things."
"You sold my daughter," I rasped out, my voice shaking with an intense, agonizing rage that burned straight through my shock. "Seventeen years ago... you and Daniel traded my baby girl for a bag of cash!"
Lorraine stepped calmly over the broken ceramic shards, her high heels clicking loudly against the Brazilian hardwood as she stopped near the marble kitchen island.
"We saved this family from financial ruin, Caroline," Lorraine corrected, gently setting her designer handbag on the counter without blinking. "The Mendoza name was on the brink of complete bankruptcy before Daniel secured that private seed funding."
"Seed funding?!" I screamed, hot tears finally spilling over my lashes as I pointed a trembling finger at the glowing laptop screen. "You sold my flesh and blood to the Whitakers like she was a piece of real estate!"
"She went to an exceptionally wealthy home in Bellevue," Lorraine replied flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sophie has lived a life of immense luxury, private schooling, and trust funds—things you could never have provided back then."
The sheer, sociopathic detachment in her voice sent a terrifying chill straight down my spine.
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Before I could speak, Lorraine reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a sleek black smartphone, and pressed the speaker button.
"Daniel, she found the package," Lorraine said into the phone, her cold eyes never leaving my face. "Bring the private security detail upstairs immediately."
