{CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR}

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......FLASHBACK......

As Hanna's dad stepped into the room, he was met with a horrifying scene that plunged him into a whirlwind of confusion and terror.

Gunshot-wounded bodies lay on the floor, the acrid smell of blood replacing the once-fresh fragrance of the room. As he stepped closer, trembling with fear and tears welling in his eyes, the news channel blared in the background, partially drowning out his sobs. He was paralyzed by fear, unable to process the horrifying sight—the lifeless forms of his friend and his friend's wife sprawled on the ground. It felt unreal as if he were trapped in a nightmare or watching a scene from a movie.

As he approached the bodies, a heavy weight of dread settled in his chest as he pondered who could have committed such a heinous act against his friend and his wife. Trembling with fear, he summoned every ounce of strength to kneel between the two lifeless forms, but his gaze instinctively gravitated toward his friend rather than his wife.

After a thorough check and sobbing by his friend's side, he was consumed by thoughts of who could have inflicted such a painful fate upon them. Memories flooded back of the businessmen they had initially worked with. He had backed out after conducting a meticulous background check and discovering they were not genuine businessmen but con artists masquerading as professionals, intent on stealing company shares or, if fortunate, seizing the entire organization. He had urgently warned his friend about them and advised him to sever ties, just as he had, but his friend had been too reluctant to listen. According to his now-dead friend, the offer they presented was far too tempting to refuse.

Though he knew they were dishonest, he never imagined they would go so far as to murder their partners just to secure the shares they craved.

One thought echoed in Hanna's dad's mind: he could let them walk away with the shares, but he couldn't allow those con artists to evade the consequences of the deaths of his friend and wife.

Just as he was about to rise, a chilling touch grazed the back of his palm. Startled, he turned to see the source of the sensation, but there was nothing there. As he stood up, he spotted a small bloodstain on his palm, a grim reminder that someone had indeed touched him. Hesitantly, he took a step closer to the lifeless bodies on the floor, and then he heard it—a faint sobbing, barely audible, emanating from the dead.

To his astonishment, the sobbing was coming from his friend's wife—she was alive! He rushed toward her, desperate to speak as he tried to lift her, but he quickly realized she was struggling to form words. Gently, he cradled her against his chest, straining to hear what she was trying to say. As her body trembled and blood poured from her mouth, the haunting words escaped her lips: "My son."

He swiftly scanned the room for her son but found no one. At that moment, his sole focus was on saving her life, nothing else mattered. With urgency, he lifted her into his arms and rushed out of the room, making his way directly to his car.

.

.

.

.

"Thank God you're better now! How are you doing now?"

"Thanks to you, I feel much better. Words can't express how grateful I am to you for saving me. I'm so thankful."

When he noticed she was talking too much, which could worsen her condition, he gently said, "Shhh, you don't need to thank me. The doctor said you aren't well yet and still need more rest, so please don't stress yourself too much."

It seemed that Hanna's dad's plea to let her rest had an impact, as she quieted for a moment. But then, with a sudden shift in her demeanor, she gripped his hands tightly, tears flowing uncontrollably down her cheeks as she cried out, "It's been two weeks since the incident, and I still haven't heard anything about my son."

He gently pressed her hand tighter, their shared sorrow palpable as he gazed into her tear-filled eyes. "I know you miss your son and are desperate to know his whereabouts, but the police are doing everything they can to find him. I promise you, they will."

"You said the same thing just three days ago! It's been two weeks since the incident, and there's still no news about my son, only that they caught the corn artist and locked them up. But that's not enough! I want my son back! How could a young boy, who was with us that fateful day, just vanish without a trace?" She paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing, "I'm convinced those corn artists took my son. They kidnapped my baby boy."

Her sobbing grew louder, reverberating through the private ward where she was admitted, her wails filling the sterile space. In a heartfelt attempt to comfort her, he placed his hand gently on her back, hoping to ease the pain she felt. "I understand how you feel, but the cops are doing everything they can. It just seems so strange that even after questioning the corn artists, they insist that the boy wasn't taken by them, and their story hasn't changed at all."

His words lingered in the air, and as soon as he finished, she shot back, "They're lying! Those bastards took my son!"

"I swear on the memory of my late friend that as long as I am alive, I will find your son and return your company to you. This is the least I can do to honor him."

"You made a promise on the death of my husband, your best friend, but can you give him two more assurances? Promise me that no one will ever discover that I am alive."

"I promise, and I promise to keep you safe," he said. "Now, tell me what your second promise is."

With trembling hands and a fearful expression, she pressed on, her words shifting from a promise to a desperate plea. "Promise me that once you recover the stolen shares and restore the company, you'll put it under your name until my son is found... please, promise me!"

It took him what felt like an eternity to respond, fully aware that the idea wasn't a good one. If he agreed to her request, she wouldn't regain her company until her son was found, and she would remain trapped in a life far from the comfort she once knew before the tragic incident—who could say how long that would take?

Yet, he felt he had no choice but to honor her plea. With a slow, hesitant nod, he finally said, "I promise." But he couldn't let it end there; the question that gnawed at him had to be asked. "Why would you ask for something like this?"

"It would be much safer with you than with my husband's brother. By keeping my identity hidden from him, I'd also be protected, since he would stop at nothing to seize control of the company and the shares—he wouldn't hesitate to kill me for it. To prevent that, you need to safeguard the company until my son is found, so I can finally feel safe."

......PRESENT DAY......

The nanny jolted out of her reverie, clutching the necklace tightly. "It's been years, and you're still not found. I don't even think I'd recognize you if I saw you, as I only have the birthmark on your head to identify you."