Dancing with a stranger

Chapter|20✨

Everything had been going fine—for now. I hadn't been home since that night, the so-called wedding. In the meantime, I had our baby girl. Aaliyah was perfect—a spitting image of Kian, with a full head of dark hair and gray eyes that mirrored his. Kian had been there every step of the way, supporting me, keeping me safe.

I finally called my father to tell him about the baby. He wasn't angry or upset—at least, not openly—but there was a quiet stiffness in his voice. At least he'd get a grandchild, though I still had no idea how he'd ever come to know his only son, the one he thought was dead.

That afternoon, I was home alone, putting clothes away in the bedroom while Aaliyah napped. Suddenly, I heard her crying. Panic hit me immediately. I ran to her room, but the crib was empty. My stomach dropped—I knew she had to be here, somewhere in the house. I searched frantically, calling out her name, my heart hammering. I called Kian, but he was on the way back from a meeting—he wasn't there.

Grace arrived as quickly as she could and urged me to call the police. Just as I was explaining the situation, Kian pulled into the driveway. Relief and terror tangled inside me. How could anyone want to take a month-old baby?

The police arrived, took my statement, and left. Of course, the security cameras around the house had conveniently gone dark. I was shaking, unable to calm down. Jain and Grace tried everything they could to help. I even contacted my father, but he was in another country, and Lorenzo vouched for him.

Hours passed. Midnight came and went. Grace had to leave to be with Charlie, who was waiting at home. I tried to sleep, but every sound made me tense. Then my phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number:

If you want to see your precious baby again, you do as I say.

Attached was a picture of Aaliyah sleeping in her crib, and a date and time.

I dropped to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I just wanted my baby back.

Kian sat beside me, pulling me into his arms, rubbing my back, whispering that everything would be okay—that we would get her back. I tried to sleep, hoping it was just a nightmare, but the fear gnawed at me.

At 1:30 a.m., I gave up. Kian wasn't in bed. I heard him talking in the kitchen. Steeling myself, I walked out to find him seated at the table with a man.

"Hey, baby," he said, rising to kiss me. "This is Stella, my girlfriend," he introduced me, his tone casual but firm. "Stella, this is Ramone. He's a family friend, and he's going to help us get our little girl back."

I tried to smile, but the weight in my chest wouldn't let me. My heart ached.

Ramone spoke calmly, explaining that he had a lead and suspected my mother. "The name we found was Leanne," he said.

I froze. "Yes," I whispered. "That's my mother's birth name."

After talking strategy with Ramone, he left, leaving Kian and me on the couch. His arms wrapped around me felt like the only thing holding me together. My chest was tight, my breaths shallow, the fear pressing against me like a physical weight.

"We'll get her back, Stella. I swear to you, we will," Kian murmured, stroking my hair.

I clung to him, but my mind kept flashing to Aaliyah's innocent face. The tiny picture of her sleeping in the crib mocked me—she was so small, so fragile.

"It has to be my mother," I whispered, voice breaking. "She would do something like this. She always does."

Kian pulled me closer, pressing my face into his chest. "If it's her, we'll handle it. Together. Don't let her get inside your head. Focus on Aaliyah—that's all that matters right now."

I tried to breathe, tried to steady myself, but the fear gnawed at me relentlessly. What if she's hurt? What if my mother has been planning this all along?

"I just want to hold her again," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I want her back so badly."

"We will," Kian said, his voice steady, full of determination. "We won't stop until we do."

The silence stretched, oppressive, every tick of the clock a reminder of the unknown. I knew I couldn't just sit there. I had to act, to help get her back.

Kian stood, running a hand through his hair. "I'm making calls. Ramone has connections that can help. We need to find her, fast."

I nodded, throat tight, tears unshed. "Just... be careful, Kian. I don't want to lose you too."

"You won't. I promise. I'm not going anywhere," he said, gripping my hand firmly.

As he left, I sat there, staring at the wall, trying to steady my breath. Each word I heard from him over the phone, urgent and low, made the situation feel painfully real. My baby was out there—and I had no idea what my mother was doing to her.

I closed my eyes, drawing strength from the image of Aaliyah's face—her little nose, her full hair, her dark gray eyes. She was everything to me. I wouldn't let anything happen to her.

The minutes passed slowly, but when Kian returned, his expression tense yet resolute, he said, "I've got a lead. It's not much, but it's a start. We'll get your daughter back, Stella. I swear it."

Relief washed over me in a small, fragile wave. "We'll do it together," I said, voice shaky but firm. "We'll bring her home."

Kian pulled me into him again, and this time, I didn't resist. I let myself hold onto him, feeling the strength, the commitment, and the love that had carried me this far.

I closed my eyes, letting the promise of finding Aaliyah keep me grounded, bracing for whatever came next.