Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 196

"Theo! Theo, I'm here! Theo, help me!" Cecilia screamed, her voice raw with terror.

“Cici! It’s okay! Don’t panic, don’t be afraid—I’m coming! I’m right here!” Theodore’s voice echoed up the stairwell, urgent and strained.

Within seconds, Theodore appeared at the doorway of the eleventh-floor landing.

His shirt was soaked through with sweat, and his normally immaculate hair hung in damp strands across his forehead.

The first thing he did was lock eyes with Cecilia. "Cici, are you hurt? Are you okay?"

All Cecilia could do was sob, shaking her head as tears streamed down her cheeks.

A wave of relief washed over Theodore. He turned on the men in gray with a furious glare. "If you’ve so much as scratched her, you’ll regret it!"

The man in gray just grinned. "This is getting interesting."

"Relax, we’re here for money. As long as the cash is ready, we can work something out," said the one in a mustard-colored jacket.

The man in gray yanked Cecilia to her feet, pressing a knife to her throat.

Theodore exploded. "What do you think you’re doing? Let her go!"

The gray-jacketed man sneered. "Toss the money over first, and then we’ll talk."

"Release her first!" Theodore barked.

"Oh, I see," the gray jacket mused, eyes glinting. "Then let’s play a little game, shall we?" He exchanged a look with his partner.

The one in yellow dragged Emma from the corner.

Theodore’s face twisted with shock and confusion when he saw her. "Emma? What are you doing here?" His voice dropped, cold and sharp.

Emma couldn’t answer—her mouth was still taped shut. Had Theodore really been up here all this time and not noticed her? Granted, she’d been tucked away in the corner, hidden behind two of the thugs, but even so—his focus on Cecilia was a little too intense.

"Mr. Whitman, which one of these is your wife?" The gray-jacketed man leered.

In an instant, Theodore understood.

His troublesome father-in-law had been here too. When the kidnappers couldn’t get the money they wanted, the old man started bragging about his wealthy son-in-law, saying things like, "My son-in-law can pay anything you want." No wonder they’d gone after his wife. But something had gone wrong—they’d brought back two women instead.

"What do you want from me?" Theodore’s expression turned stony.

"Make a choice. Who do you want back?" Both men pointed their knives at Cecilia and Emma, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"Pick one! The other stays with us until we’re safe!" the man in yellow snarled, his knife biting into Emma’s skin.

"Wait!" Theodore pleaded. "Let both of them go. I’ll go with you instead."

The man in yellow scoffed. "You think you’re in a TV drama? What’s easier—dealing with two scared women, or a grown man who could fight back? Why would we take you?"

"You said yourself. I pay, you leave. No need to complicate things." Theodore’s voice was icy. "But if you must take someone, take him." He pointed at Julian.

"No! No, please, son, don’t! Don’t let them take me!" Julian, who had been trying to blend into the background, suddenly sprang to life, scrambling away—only to be pinned down by a couple of the thugs.

"Enough with the games," said the man in yellow. "Mr. Whitman, just toss the money over."

Theodore eyed the group—there were ten, maybe twelve of them. Fighting his way out was impossible. If paying could end this, he’d do it. But if they decided to double-cross him…

"You don’t trust us?" The man in gray gave a sly, oily smile. "How about this: you have two briefcases. Toss one over and we’ll let one person go. You decide—who goes first?"

"Let Emma go first! Theo! Let Emma go!"

Theodore hesitated, torn. Cecilia was shouting.

"Shut up! You’re making too much noise!" The man in gray tightened his grip on Cecilia’s neck, pressing his knife so hard against her cheek that it left a white mark. "One more word and I’ll ruin that pretty face of yours!"