Reclaimed By My Ex-husband-Chapter 50: Isaac’s another demand

Gracie’s brows drew together, suspicion flickering in her eyes. Paulina wasn’t the type to make reckless accusations. If she was voicing something this serious, she might have seen something... or at least believed she had.

Before Gracie could ask anything, Paulina shifted in her seat. "I heard Lawson’s younger son is back from abroad. He has joined his father’s company. A decent boy. He’d be a good match for Riya."

Gracie blinked, caught off guard by the sudden turn. Liam Lawson—Nathaniel’s friend—came from a respected family. This boy was well-mannered, successful, and yes, single. The idea sparked something in her. If Riya were settled with someone like that, all this unease might go away.

"Call Vincent," Paulina urged, her tone sharper now. "Ask him to come home. He has spent enough time looking after the vineyard. It’s time he looks after his family."

Gracie remained quiet. Her husband, Vincent, had grown increasingly attached to the farmhouse, preferring to spend his time managing the vineyard and farmland. Ever since he handed over the company’s reins to Nathaniel, his trips to the countryside had become more frequent and longer. It had become his escape.

This time was no different—he had been gone nearly a month without returning home.

"I spoke to him," she murmured, still distracted. "He said he’d be back in a few days... But please, don’t push this too far. Don’t say anything to Vincent about your suspicions. I don’t want this family falling apart over a misunderstanding."

Paulina cast a displeased look at Gracie, her eyes full of sting. "You think I’m the one causing problems?" she snapped, feeling offended.

Gracie was left speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to respond.

"Fine, fine. I’ll stay out of it. Handle it yourself," Paulina said sharply, getting up and heading to her room.

Gracie’s face drained of color. "Why is she upset with me? I didn’t say anything wrong," she muttered, exhaling in frustration. "This is so aggravating."

Inside Zane’s room...

Zane was focused intently on his drawing. Zara, seated beside him, watched him draw with a faint smile on her lips. Her phone buzzed in the meantime, breaking the silence of the room. Her heart sank the moment she saw the caller ID: Dad.

Her expression changed altogether.

She glanced at Zane, still lost in his sketches, then stood and crossed the room quietly. She stopped by the window, pulling the curtain aside slightly as she answered the call in a low voice. "Why are you calling me?"

Isaac’s voice came through fast, panicked. "Zara, you have to help us. It’s urgent. Jaxon is in serious trouble. They took him from the hospital—these people said they’ll kill him if we don’t pay up."

Zara closed her eyes briefly, exhaling hard. ’Of course,’ she thought. ’He only calls when he wants something.’ freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Isaac pressed on, desperation thick in his voice. "They are demanding five million. I don’t have it. You know how the company is doing. We are barely afloat. Please, Zara. This time, we really need you. If we don’t pay... your brother is dead."

Zara clenched her teeth, her free hand curling into a fist at her side. The same story, just a different crisis.

"Five million?" The words escaped before she could stop herself, her voice sharper than she intended. She immediately glanced over her shoulder and saw Zane looking up from his drawing, eyes wide.

Her expression shifted in an instant. She forced a soft, reassuring smile. "Keep drawing, sweetheart," she murmured, covering the phone’s speaker with her hand.

Zane gave a small nod and turned his attention back to the page, the scratch of crayons resuming.

Zara’s face darkened again as she turned toward the window, her voice low and biting. "Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?" she hissed. "That’s your mess. Figure it out yourself."

"Zara... he is your brother," Isaac muttered, frustration spilling out. "How can you be so cold?"

Zara let out a bitter laugh. "Cold?" she echoed. "I’ve bailed you out more times than I can count. Every time you needed money, I gave it to you—no questions asked. I supported you and your son like it was my duty. And now you throw that word at me?"

Her voice dropped, but the fury in her eyes burned hotter. "Fine. I am heartless. I don’t care what happens to you or your pathetic son. Deal with your own disaster. And don’t call me again."

Her thumb hovered over the screen, ready to hang up, when Isaac’s voice broke through, desperate.

"Zara, wait! Please—don’t hang up. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m not thinking straight."

She paused, the anger still pulsing under her skin, but she pressed the phone back to her ear.

Isaac’s voice had softened, laced with guilt. "I’m just scared. Jaxon has still not fully recovered. If they keep him much longer, I don’t know what they’ll do. He is weak... helpless. And those people aren’t bluffing. We are running out of time. Please, help us. I swear I’ll pay you back. Just this once—please."

Zara exhaled sharply, lifting one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. A part of her still felt the pull of family, the instinct to lend a hand. But her conscience wasn’t so quick to agree.

This wasn’t new. Jaxon had a mess after a mess caused by his gambling addiction. Time and again, he had landed in trouble, neck-deep in debt, dragged down by the same reckless choices. And each time, it had been Zara who stepped in to clean up after him, to pay what he owed and buy him another chance. But nothing ever changed. Jaxon never changed.

Even now, her instincts screamed that this wouldn’t be the last time.

"I don’t have that kind of money," she said at last. Her decision was made. She wasn’t handing over a dime this time. "But there is another way. What they did is illegal. Taking him from a hospital by force – it’s a crime? We can go to the police—"

"Are you insane?" Isaac cut her off, his voice flaring with rage. "You want to call the cops and get your brother killed? The moment we involve the police, they’ll slit his throat without hesitation."

His tone dropped. "Stop wasting time. Transfer the five million. Now. I’ll handle the rest and bring him home."

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