His Destructive, Toxic Love novel Chapter 303

Eliza, with Brock in tow, entered the women's restroom. As she cleaned up the mess on her clothes, she kept an eye on her son, playing with his toy car nearby. The little car's wheels were so nimble that it rolled away at the slightest touch. Eliza got distracted for just a moment and didn't notice Brock following his car out of the restroom. In an instant, he was scooped up by a pair of strong arms and whisked away.

When Eliza turned around and saw Brock was gone, her heart dropped. She bolted out, shouting his name, "Brock! Brock!"

To everyone she encountered, she frantically asked, "Have you seen a little boy, about three years old? He's wearing beige pants and a blue shirt."

Each person shook their head, fueling Eliza’s panic. Desperate, she pulled out her phone and tried calling Aaron, but the call wouldn't go through.

"Brock... Brock... Brock..." she called out as she raced down from the third floor to the ground floor, but there was no sign of her little boy. As she clutched her phone, her heart pounded like a drum. It had to be Aaron who took him. What now? What could she do?

Eliza paced in place, frantic. Just then, Casper and Dillon rushed over. Casper grabbed her trembling shoulders, his voice steady but urgent. "Where's the child? What happened?"

Eliza's eyes were already red, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know. I just looked away for a second, and he was gone. I really don't know..." she said, her voice shaking.

Casper's gaze swept the area sharply. "Where's Aaron? Where did he go?"

"Mommy... Mommy..." he cried, his voice filled with desperation. Eliza's heart was gripped with panic and tension. She didn't dare call out his name again, afraid he might jump.

Casper quickly exchanged a look with Dillon, who understood immediately and headed upstairs. Brock's crying grew more intense, his small body swaying precariously outside the window. Below, a crowd had gathered, buzzing with conversation.

"Don't move, baby," Eliza whispered, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, making it hard for her to breathe. The fifth floor wasn't too high, but for a little child, a fall would be unimaginable. She was beyond terrified.

Each cry from Brock pierced her heart like a needle. His little body was mostly out the window now, holding onto the sill with just one small hand. The wind howled, making his tiny body sway dangerously.