Chapter 5 - THE BLACKMAIL DEMAND
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The hum of the afternoon traffic vanished, replaced by the loud, thumping sound of my own pulse pounding in my ears.
"You're mistaken," I said, my voice trembling despite my desperate attempt to sound strong. "Please leave my property before I call the police."
"Go ahead and call them," Marcus laughed dryly, taking a step up the porch stairs. "It won't change biology, sweetheart. Clara and I lived together for eight months in New Jersey before she stole my cash and ran off to New York. I've been looking for her for half a year."
He pointed a dirty fingernail toward Daisy.
"I found out two days ago she died in that hospital," Marcus continued, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "And I found out her rich brother took my kid. I already filed a paternity claim with the family court this morning."
"You abandoned Clara!" I shouted, my rage overcoming my fear. "She was living in a homeless shelter! She was dying, and you were nowhere to be found!"
"Clara was a liar and a thief," Marcus spat coldly. "I don't care about her. But that baby? That baby is mine. And legally, you have zero rights to her."
I clutched Daisy tighter, backing all the way up against the front door, my hand desperately reaching behind me for the doorknob. "What do you want, Marcus?"
Marcus chuckled, stepping up onto the top porch step, leaning in close enough that I could smell stale tobacco and cheap whiskey on his breath.
"I'm a simple man, Sarah," Marcus whispered, dropping his voice into a dangerous threat. "I don't really want the hassle of raising a screaming infant. I've got bills to pay, debts to settle. But I know how much people like you and your husband want a little girl."
My eyes widened in disgust. "You're trying to sell your own child?!"
"I'm offering you an option," Marcus corrected smoothly, holding up his hands. "Fifty thousand dollars. Cash. You pay me fifty grand, and I sign away my parental rights today. I walk away, and you never see my face again. You get your little princess, and everybody wins."
"That is illegal!" I gasped. "That's extortion!"
"Call it whatever you want," Marcus sneered, his face darkening with sudden malice. "You have forty-eight hours to decide. If I don't get the money by Wednesday morning, I'm going to that court hearing. I'll demand full custody, take that baby out of your arms, and put her in a foster home in another state just to spite you."
May you like
He turned on his heel, striding down the porch steps toward his rusted car.
"Forty-eight hours, Sarah!" he called out over his shoulder before slamming his car door shut. "Tell your husband to check his bank account!"
