The Surrogate He Discarded

That afternoon, Isobel didn’t head straight home.

Instead, she steered her silver Audi toward the nearest upscale mall. She only needed a few personal items—nothing urgent—but staying busy felt better than returning to an empty house with her thoughts.

Normally, she would have ordered everything online. It was faster, more convenient, and saved her the trouble of dealing with crowds. But today was different. Too many things weighed on her mind, and she hoped a little retail therapy would quiet the relentless noise in her head, if only for a while.

For the next hour, she wandered through boutiques and specialty stores, buying far more than she had planned. It didn’t help nearly as much as she’d hoped, but at least it kept her mind occupied.

By the time she made her way to the basement parking garage, evening had begun to settle outside. The underground level was dimly lit, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. Her footsteps echoed across the concrete floor as she navigated between rows of parked vehicles.

Halfway to where she had left her Audi, the engineer in her couldn’t help noticing the flaws.

The parking garage had far too many blind spots. Thick concrete pillars blocked visibility at every turn, creating countless places where someone could hide unnoticed.

Several security cameras covered the main lanes, but large sections between the pillars remained unwatched. The ventilation was poor, leaving the stale air heavy with the smell of gasoline, oil, and damp concrete.

She frowned, but then, an idea came to her.

She knew the next project she would be working on.

Perhaps that should be the company’s next product—a smart, AI-powered parking security system capable of eliminating blind spots, detecting suspicious movement, and alerting security personnel before incidents occurred.

Already, ideas were beginning to take shape in her mind.

She turned a corner.

Something moved in her peripheral vision.

Before she could react, a powerful arm locked around her shoulders while a cloth was pressed tightly over her mouth and nose.

A sharp, sickly-sweet chemical odor flooded her senses.

Isobel jerked violently, trying to break free, but her body betrayed her. Her limbs grew heavy almost instantly. The parking garage blurred, the lights smearing into streaks of white.

The last thing she heard was the distant slam of a car door.

Then darkness swallowed her whole.

When Isobel finally opened her eyes, pain exploded through her skull.

It felt as though a drill were boring straight into her head.

She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut again, waiting for the pounding to subside. Every heartbeat sent another wave of agony through her temples.

For several long seconds, confusion clouded her mind.

Then the memories rushed back. The parking garage. The cloth over her face. The smell.

Someone had knocked her unconscious.

Her pulse quickened. Instinctively, she reached for the smartwatch on her wrist but her fingers met bare skin.

Her eyes snapped open.

Her watch was gone. A chill crept down her spine.

Her other hand searched frantically for her phone.

It was nowhere to be found. Her breathing became shallow.

She had no way to call for help. No way to track her location.

A horrifying realization settled over her like ice. She had been kidnapped.

But by whom?

And more importantly...

Why?

....

”Looking for this?”

A gravelly voice sliced through the silence.

A masked man stepped into her field of vision, dressed in torn jeans and a worn black leather jacket. In one hand, he lazily twirled her cellphone. Her smartwatch dangled from the other, swaying like a trophy.

Isobel’s heart lurched, but she forced herself to remain calm.

”What do you want?” she asked, keeping her voice as steady as she could. ”If it’s money, I can pay you a lot more than the one who posted the mission. Just let me urgently call Morgan. Urgently.”

She deliberately stressed the name.

What the masked man didn’t know was that the moment she uttered the words urgently call Morgan, her smartwatch, it had already activated its silent emergency protocol.

No vibration.

No ringtone.

No flashing screen.

A call had been placed to Morgan in complete silence. At the same time, the watch was streaming live audio and transmitting her location.

The kidnapper laughed—a low, ugly sound that echoed through the room.

”Our client already paid us,” the masked man said with a dismissive snort. ”Even if you offer two times the money, we wouldn’t betray the one who hired us.”

He tapped a gloved finger against his chest.

”We have rules. We break them...” A humorless chuckle escaped him. ”...and we’re the ones who disappear.”

His gaze crawled over Isobel’s body with slow, deliberate contempt, lingering just long enough to make her stomach churn.

”So stop trying to buy our loyalty. You can’t afford us!”

A cruel smile tugged beneath the mask.

”That’s beneath us.”

How ironic. The morals of these people were really misguided.

”So don’t worry.” His eyes crinkled behind the mask. ”We’re not here to kill you.”

A sick smile crept into his voice.

”Not yet.”

He took another deliberate step closer.

”We’re here to enjoy ourselves first.”

A chill raced down Isobel’s spine, but she refused to let panic take over.

”I’ll pay you five times what your client offered,” she said, her voice quivering despite her best efforts. ”Cash. Wire transfer. Gold. Whatever you want.”

The man burst into laughter.

”You think this is about money?”

He leaned forward until only inches separated them.

”We’re professionals.”

His voice dropped into a cold whisper.

”We don’t betray the people who hire us.”

He tapped her phone against his palm.

”But if you keep trying to buy your way out...” His head tilted ever so slightly. ”I’ll start wondering whether our client underestimated just how much you’re worth.”

The threat hung in the air like a blade.

For the first time since waking up, Isobel realized something far more terrifying than being kidnapped.

She wasn’t dealing with desperate criminals.

She was trapped with men who enjoyed making their victims afraid.