"I've taken your grandson. So, the reason I'm calling should be crystal clear to you by now," the gruff voice sneered through the phone.
Alyssa had already cried herself to a state of exhaustion, and Dean took the phone from her trembling hands.
"Name your price. We will meet any demand. Just bring our boy back home safe and sound," Dean said, his voice strained with desperation.
"Ha, must be nice to be loaded with cash, huh? Don't worry, we're not in the killing business. You meet our demands, and your little prince will be returned to his castle unharmed. Just one thing, we don't like dealing with the cops. If you get them involved, don't blame us for playing rough!"
The threat in his voice was palpable, and Dean agreed to everything in a flurry of anxious promises.
"Alright, I agree to all terms. Just tell me what you want."
The leader grinned, showing his yellowed teeth, and blew a cloud of smoke right into Balfour's face, causing the boy to cough violently. The sound reached Dean's ears, and his heart nearly stopped.
"Balfour! Balfour, are you alright?"
Balfour tried to steady his voice, "Grandpa, I'm okay. Don't worry about me."
"Well, aren't you the perfect grandson, looking out for your grandparents even now. They must really adore you. So I'm guessing they wouldn't mind shelling out, say, a hundred million for your life, right?"
Dean's voice was heavy, "You want a hundred million dollars?"
Their fortune was vast, but how would the kidnappers even claim such a sum?
"Prepare two million in cash. The rest can be transferred to an account. I have my ways. You don't need to worry about that."
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