He Killed Our Son for the Affair I Never Had

Freya’s POV

By the time I snapped out of my daze, we had already arrived at the same amusement park we went to on our anniversary.

The roller coaster, still hanging midair from the earlier accident, remained unfixed. In one swift motion, Rodney wrenched my daughter out of my arms.

“Tell me where Harper is,” he growled, “or you’ll regret it!”

Clutching my daughter tightly, he boarded a helicopter. As it rose higher and higher, my heart lurched. And then—without a shred of hesitation—he placed Farrah back into that same faulty roller coaster.

She had already been traumatized by it once.

Now, she wailed uncontrollably.

Her cries tore through me, each sob shredding my chest. Watching the roller coaster sway slightly under his manipulation, I could barely breathe.

“I don’t know anything, Rodney!” I screamed hoarsely. “I don’t care who kidnapped Harper—just put my daughter down now!”

I was nearly hysterical.

But the tender, doting father from earlier was gone. In his place stood a cold, unfeeling man, his expression like stone as he deliberately rocked the car.

“I’ll give you ten seconds,” he said flatly. “And I’ll keep shaking it harder each time I count.”

True to his word, he increased the force.

I stared at my daughter, her sobs breaking into hiccups, my nails digging deep into my palms. He showed us no mercy—none at all. My chest ached so violently I thought I might faint.

Seeing her tiny body tremble, her cries nearly turning into convulsions, my tears finally spilled over.

“Rodney, I truly don’t know! I have no idea where Harper is! Please, just bring our daughter down—she can’t take this anymore!”

My plea didn’t move him in the slightest. He simply kept counting, voice as cold as steel.

“Eight.”

Just earlier, at home, he had apologized for what happened on the roller coaster.

And now—because of Harper—he had become the executioner, personally threatening us.

I broke into a scream. “Rodney! Go check! Look at the surveillance footage! I didn’t kidnap Harper! Please, let Farrah go! She’s your child too! She’s about to collapse! I’m begging you—please!”

I even dropped to my knees in desperation.

But he didn’t so much as glance at me. The cold, relentless countdown continued.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I scrambled toward the roller coaster, trying to climb up.

He watched me with icy detachment.

Just as the countdown neared its end, my fingers brushed the edge of Farrah’s car. My heart leapt—I reached out without a thought for my own safety, desperate to pull her free.

But in the next instant, Rodney yanked me back onto the helicopter, and, with a sharp crack, he slapped me hard across the face.

“Are you insane? Climbing that high—what if you fell?”

For a brief moment, his eyes betrayed a flicker of worry.

But I could no longer believe in him.

Gripping his sleeve, I choked out, “I’m begging you, Rodney. Do whatever you want to me. Blame me for kidnapping Harper if you must. Just let her go—I’ll take Farrah’s place in that car if that’s what you want.”

He gripped my sleeve tightly, roaring, “For the sake of that bastard you had with Macsen, you’d even throw away your life? Then why did you marry me?!”

With that, he shoved me toward one of his bodyguards.

“I won’t let that bastard live. You’d better tell me where Harper is, or else, I’ll make that bastard pay with her life!”

I thrashed against their hold, tears streaming freely.

“I really don’t know! After we got off the roller coaster, we went straight home! I never had the chance to kidnap Harper! Farrah’s your daughter, Rodney! You can do a DNA test if you don’t believe me! But please, let her go now!”

I wailed, throwing my dignity into the dirt for him to trample.

And still… he refused to believe me.