Ellen's POV

I stood beside my father on the presidential floor, our eyes glued to the TV screen showing the live feed from the room where Kamille was with the kidnapper we had hired.

I was delighted by how miserable Kamille looked. We just needed her damned signature on the documents. Was that so hard for her to do and get her pathetic self out of my face?

Instead, she chose to stay in the room, her eyes red and swollen from crying and ceaselessly demanding to see her kids first. I felt a twisted satisfaction seeing her like that. She deserved this, every bit of it.

We could not...