AN: First of all, I have to say... that the reviews are awesome and totally heartwarming. :) I'm glad people are responding to this story. :) I'm sorry it has a grim the plot. The sadist in me (which i never knew existed) is showing. Hahaha. But rest assured, I love happy endings and this one's going to be no exception (for now, at least). Thank you so much for all the support and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

-I still own nothing. :|

"What about Addison's trust fund?" Bizzy suggested, pacing Richard Webber's room. They took the first flight out of Hartford and to Seattle the moment Anthony hung up on Peter. They wanted to be closer so that at least they felt as if they were moving forward. "Can't we touch Addison's trust fund?"

"It's in her name. We can't touch it."

Bizzy sighed. "You're a lawyer. You can work your way around it. And we're millionaires, Anthony. Where the hell did all our money go?"

"It's there, Bizzy. We just haven't thought about all the nooks and crannies we put it in."

"What about the money daddy kept for me?"

"What money?", he asked in confusion. Anthony didn't know about any sum of money Mr. Forbes kept for his daughter which Bizzy had kept from him.

Bizzy blushed. "For me and Addie and Archer, actually. I just… never told you."

Anthony's jaw clenched. "This is exactly why we got divorced in the first place. You always keep things from me. Things as big as this."

"Well maybe if you'd been home more then 5 minutes a day, I could've trusted you with the things I consider sacred," she snapped back.

"Money is sacred to you?" Disbelief laced his tone, emphasizing every syllable.

"It is because it's the only thing that was constant in my life," she shot back. "It has 150 million dollars for each of us. It was what I was going to give to Addie and Archie after I die." Although it wasn't something people would consider loving, money was one of the only things Bizzy grew up with, so it was but fitting to leave the same thing as legacy for Archer and Addison. Her father had kept 450 Million Dollars in a secured volt for his daughter and grandchildren. This was apart from the money he originally gave when he first died, an amount big enough to purchase the Empire State Building thrice over.

Anthony's jaw fell open, his eyes widening. "And it never occurred to you to tell me you had this sort of money a while ago? Maybe now we could've been concentrating on finding Addison rather than finding the money."

Bizzy huffed. "This isn't about the money, Tony. This is about our daughter being in grave danger. We have to find her. Besides, the money was none of your concern, not until now when we're desperate to find 200M in cash."

Richard stood up, deciding he could no longer wait and watch the former Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery bicker over whatever inheritance Bizzy got from her father. He shook his head at the irony of it all. It seemed as if the former Montgomery couple had a lot in common with the Shepherd couple. Damn genes, he muttered. "I think, Tony, Bizzy, that we should focus on setting up a master plan to find them," he suggested firmly. He looked at them both in a way that subtly said that they needed to grow up and act like adults. He ushered them to their seats and let Detective Sanders in.

"Detective, this is Mr. Anthony Montgomery," he gestured. "And his wife—"

"Ex-wife," Bizzy and Anthony corrected simultaneously.

"Ex-wife," Richard amended. "Beatrice Forbes."

Bizzy extended her hand to shake the detective's. "You can call me Bizzy," she said, and then took a seat.

Detective Sanders nodded, and took a seat adjacent to Addison's parents. "We understand that the condition was to find 200 million dollars by 7:00pm tonight, is that right?"

Anthony nodded. "We have the money," he said, eyeing Bizzy warily.

"And that he would… hurt Addison every hour until the designated time?"

He gulped and nodded again. "Yes, that's correct."

Sanders looked grave as he opened his briefcase and pulled a brown paper bag. He looked cautiously at everyone before showing them the side of the bag. It read:

For Anthony Montgomery

-P.J.

"This was left at the police station late this evening. No one noticed anything. It was found by one of our men."

"What's in it?" Webber asked, his foot tapping anxiously on the tiled floor.

He opened the top of the brown paper bag and spilled the contents on the coffee table. Her wedding ring and her engagement ring, her SGH ID, her car keys and her wallet. This man had no desire for the money or material possessions. He could have made a fortune with Addison's engagement ring alone.

Bizzy reached out and fingered Addison's wedding bands, tears once again forming in her eyes. Seeing those items scattered on the table made the situation all the more real, as if they were returning the personal belongings of a soldier who died at war.

"It came with this, too," Sanders continued, pulling out an envelope.

12:00 am

You have 17 hours left. I was merciful, don't you think? Just her material possessions? Wait til I get to her.

Don't think I don't know you've alerted the cops. I'm not afraid of them. Because whether or not they catch me, your daughter's mine and I could finish her off any time.

7:00 pm. Don't forget.

Your friend,

Peter

"What do we do now?" Anthony asked, his voice full of worry and pent up anger. The note had stirred so many emotions in him that it was hard to pinpoint which one reigned over his body. "Have you gotten any leads?"

"We're trying to get fingerprints off of the bag in case it has any residue that could point us to where they are. But other than that, we're still pretty much stuck," he said apologetically, himself troubled by their lack of evidence.

"Any luck on the skid marks?"

Sanders shook his head. "No. We're still running it back at the lab, so we're hoping we get results in a couple of hours."

Richard nodded. "And Peter Jones' family?"

Sander smiled, remembering. "Now that we have a lead on, courtesy of Mr. Montgomery's friend Atty. John Hamilton."

All of them looked at him encouragingly, urging him to go on. John Hamilton was known for being able to track down the most well hidden secrets. He was a good friend of Anthony's, and as soon as he got the call about Addison, he dug out any sort of information he could find about the family. He knew that if Addison was going to be used as bait, they could use his family to their advantage as well.

"Well?"

"Attorney Hamilton has located Peter's wife, Agatha Jones, living in Southern Connecticut. He took the liberty of having some of his men pay her a visit."

"What're we expecting out of it?"

Sanders shrugged. "Mr. Hamilton thinks we could use her against him, the way he's using Addison against you."

Bizzy furrowed her brow. "How?"

"I think," Richard said, "we could use his family as a threat. That if he doesn't release Addison and Derek unharmed, his family will pay for it."

"Something like that," the detective said. "We blackmail him, sort of."

"That's against the law," Anthony protested. "That's… illegal. You and I both know it's against protocol."

"Do you have any other suggestions, Atty. Montgomery?" Sanders questioned, himself knowing it was illegal but that it was the only way. With the best lawyers in all of America on their side, they would be able to win out a court case should Peter decide to use the blackmail against him.

Anthony was thoughtful for a moment, and then relented with a sigh. "Do it."

-

Her head was spinning, her body unable to comprehend what was happening. At the moment, she was lying on a cold metal table, her legs spread apart and tied to the table's legs, her arms the same way. She couldn't move her limbs, only her head and her trunk, but she couldn't control her movement.

She opened her eyes and squinted at the bright lights above her, much too bright to have her open her eyes completely. She felt small under its harsh glare, somehow understanding that she was weak and had no strength to fight against whatever it was that beheld her.

"Good to see you awake," Peter sneered. "You've been out cold for 15 minutes. But it feels like a lifetime, doesn't it?"

Addison furrowed her brow. "What happened?"

"We drugged you," he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "You wouldn't remember any of it until later on. But," he said, walking over to the table and smoothing Addison's hair, "I'll tell you what happened. You and your husband were getting too cozy for my liking, so Carl had to put his hand over your mouth before you started screaming and cursing like you always do. But I think you already guessed that his hand was—"

"Doped with cytotoxic drugs," Addison finished, her eyes widening in terror. "Where's Derek?"

"Relax, Addie-bee. He's fine. He's right there, see?" he gestured, pointing to the stool on the far end of the room. On the stool, Derek sat, his legs tied to the stool's support, his hands tied behind him, and his mouth covered by a coiled piece of cloth that parted his lips roughly. He was struggling between Ed and Carl who were having fun spinning the stool and watching Derek squirm in protest.

"Oh my god," Addison whispered as she strained her neck to meet Derek's gaze. "Oh my god," she said again, louder this time. "What do you want from me?" she yelled, her eyes instantly filling with tears.

Peter shrugged. "Something of you to send to your father. Just so he knows you aren't dead yet. We sent him your wedding bands, by the way. I hope you don't mind."

Her eyes widened. "Something of me? Don't you think you've taken enough?" she said, her voice laced with pain. She was referring, of course, to her dignity, which the two men had so cruelly taken away from her earlier that evening. It was a good thing, however, that she hadn't lost all of her fighting spirit, regardless of the hopelessness of the situation.

Peter shook his head adamantly. "Taking away something so small from you isn't quite enough, Addison. Your father took away 25 years of my life. That's a big price to pay," he grunted, drawing out a knife from one of the drawers and holding it up to glimmer in the light, allowing Addison and Derek to see it clearly.

"What're you going to do with that?" Addison asked, her voice small and quivering.

He grinned. "Tell me, Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd… have you ever been operated on before in your life?"

Addison's eyes filled with more tears as she heard the stool Derek was on move and scrape against the concrete frantically. Derek's eyes widened in terror at the mere sight of the offensive object.

She started to struggle, her body trying to curve itself into a fetal position.

Derek whimpered, his eyes unable to stir away from the knife Peter held, the maniac grin on his face forever imprinted in his memory.

"Oh my god," Addison whispered. She swore to herself that after she'd gotten out of the hell hole, she's make sure he rotted for another 25 years in prison.

"I'll take that as a no." He took the knife and ran it across a piece of cloth, trying to clean it. But the knife was old and worn-out, rust and dirt covering its surface. It was no doubt very dull, something he had intentionally done so it would hurt more. "You see, being a surgeon yourself, you wouldn't really know how it is to be on the other side of things. So I'm teaching you a valuable lesson, something I hope you'd thank me for when the day comes."

Derek was screaming against the piece of cloth covering his mouth, hindering him from making sound other than soft whimpers. The wheels in his head were turning, every possibility with a knife being listed off, giving him no comfort. He wanted to hit him, to kill him over and over and over again, but he couldn't. He was weak compared to the forces they were reckoning with.

"Tonight, I'm the surgeon, and you're the patient. I take a piece of yourself, send it to your father, and let him know you're still alive." He paused, and then laughed sardonically.

"Please don't," Addison begged. "Tell me what I can do, but please… please don't hurt me. Don't hurt Derek… don't…" She had never begged much in her life, but seeing that it could end anytime soon, she really had no choice. Under other circumstances, she would've let the bitch in her reign supreme, but she couldn't because Derek would suffer the consequences of her actions. If it was just her, she'd have done it from the very beginning. But she had Derek to think about, and she couldn't stomach the idea of anyone hurting him.

"Unfortunately for you, Addison, that's not for you to decide." He moved painstakingly slow as he tried to clean the knife, running its rusty surface on an equally dirty towel. "Tell me, Addie-bee, what should my insertion point be if I want to make sure you're going to bleed to death slowly?"

Addison started to sweat, her fingers curling, her mind reciting prayers she hadn't thought of in years. She didn't answer, only continued to stare at him in fear, praying that Derek was smart not enough not to try to protect her. His chivalry would only mean the end of both of them.

"You really don't have to answer me, by the way. I told you I did my research, remember?" He cleared his throat. "There's a central artery running directly from your heart to your thigh. I suppose your thigh's a good place as any," he stated with a slight shrug. He stood up and walked to the table's side, grinning madly.

Slowly, he raised the knife, letting it glimmer slightly under the harsh overhead lights, and then carefully lowered it against Addison's body.

-

2 hours later

Agatha Jones sat directly in front of Anthony and Bizzy, her stance rigid and unrelenting.

"Please," Bizzy begged, probably for the first time in her life. "My daughter has done nothing wrong."

Agathe raised her brow. "You want me to help you? After what you did to our family? My husband did nothing wrong, either, but you had him thrown into jail. That's not exactly fair," she snapped bitterly.

"But he's going to kill her!" she exclaimed, the exasperation evident. "Take me, take Anthony. But don't hurt my daughter."

"We'll do anything," Anthony asserted. "Anything at all. But please, can you really live with the fact that your husband, your husband, killed my little girl for something I did?"

Before Agatha could reply, the door to the room burst open, revealing a frenzied Detective Sanders and a couple of police officers behind him. He was carrying a black plastic container, his knuckles white from holding it every so tightly in his hands. The sweat on his brow doubled, and he looked nervously between Addison's parents.

"What is it, Detective?" Bizzy asked, her voice soft and calculated.

He shook his head. "It's not good. We have to take more major measures."

Agatha perked up, straightening her back and listening intently to the detective's words. She didn't know what her husband was capable of, didn't know how much he changed while behind bars. So the next couple of words the Detective released stunned her to the core.

"What do you mean?"

He gently handed the box to Bizzy, unsure. "Are you positive you're ready for anything? He left this at the station."

Bizzy closed her eyes, internalizing, and then nodded. "I'm ready." Taking a deep breath, she gingerly pried the lid off of the container and peered in, her heart stopping momentarily at the sight before her.

Inside the box was a chunk of red, bloody flesh, practically screaming pain and suffering. Its brightness was not welcome sight, but a reminder of the clock ticking every second.

Everyone in the room was silent, Anthony and Bizzy transfixed at the contents of the box before Bizzy dropped it as if she were burned. Her heart clenched and unclenched, her whole body feeling Addison's pain. She couldn't breathe, couldn't comprehend how all of this happened to her daughter. It would take a miracle for her to survive.

Tony looked pained, his tears falling freely as the guilt toppled him over. He turned to Agatha once more, his eyes pleading. "Please…"

Agatha saw the piece of flesh. She was revolted. She never imagined that her husband, her sweet and gentle husband, would be able to be so sadistic and punitive. Her lower lip quivered, her heart pounded, her whole body shook as she nodded fervently, her own head unwilling to shake off the image that lay before her. "He's doing this for me… for the kids. He…" she sighed, not knowing how to continue. She took a deep, calming breath and said. "The only way to get to him is through me. Use me," she declared. "Use me to get to him. But I beg of you… unless he… kills your daughter… have mercy on him. Please..."

Anthony and Bizzy nodded, their bodies unconsciously leaning towards each other for support.

"Use me," Agatha repeated, her heart aching for Addison's parents.

I promise to update soon! But thank you so much for reading and I hope you like it. :)