The mahogany boardroom of Crawford Industries fell silent as James Crawford’s phone buzzed against the polished table. At forty, he commanded respect with his sharp jawline, steel-grey eyes, and the kind of presence that made million-dollar deals happen with a handshake. The late-night emergency meeting about the Shanghai acquisition was reaching its climax when the unknown number flashed on his screen. «Take five, gentlemen,» James said, his deep voice cutting through the tension.
His executives shuffled papers as he stepped toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering Manhattan skyline. «Crawford Industries,» he answered, expecting another panicked call from Tokyo about market fluctuations. Instead, a small, trembling voice broke through the static.
«Papai! Daddy!»
James froze. The word hit him like a physical blow. His reflection in the window showed a man who’d never married, never had children, never even considered the possibility of someone calling him that sacred word.
«I—I think you have the wrong number, sweetheart,» he managed, his usual commanding tone softening involuntarily. «Please don’t hang up. Don’t.»
The desperation in the child’s voice was raw, heartbreaking. «I found your number in Mommy’s work phone. She said if we were ever really, really scared and she couldn’t help us, we should call this number and say that word.»
«She said you’d understand how serious things were.»
James’s chest tightened. Through the phone, he could hear muffled sobs in the background, multiple children crying softly.
«What’s your name, honey?»
«Madison. I’m almost eleven, and my twin sisters Zoe and Mia are seven. Mommy came home from her night-cleaning job this morning, but she collapsed and won’t wake up properly.»
«We don’t have any food left, not even the stale bread from two days ago.»
«Where are you, Madison?» James found himself moving away from the boardroom, his business deal suddenly seeming insignificant.
«I don’t know the exact address. We live in the apartment above the old bakery that closed down. The windows are boarded up, and there’s a big crack in the wall where the rain comes in.»
The description painted a picture of poverty that existed just miles from James’s penthouse, yet felt like a different universe.
«Madison, is your mommy there? Can I talk to her?»
«She’s breathing, but she just moans when I try to wake her. I’m scared something’s really wrong, but I don’t know any doctors or anybody else to call. Mommy always said this number was only for emergencies, and this feels like an emergency.»
James closed his eyes, processing what he’d heard. A mother who’d given her daughter his number for emergencies. A child who’d been taught to call him Daddy as some kind of code.
None of it made sense, but the desperation in Madison’s voice was real. «Madison, honey, I need you to tell me something important. What’s your mommy’s name?»
«Rachel Martinez, but that’s her married name. Before she married my stepdad, her name was different. I think it was Rachel Santos.»
The name Santos hit James like lightning. Eleven years ago. Rachel Santos, the woman with warm brown eyes and a laugh that could light up entire rooms.
She was the woman who’d cleaned the evening shift at Crawford Industries, who’d always smiled when she emptied his trash can during his late nights at the office. The woman who’d disappeared from his life without explanation after they’d spent six months finding excuses to talk to each other, sharing coffee in empty hallways, and falling in love despite the differences in their worlds.
«Madison,» his voice cracked slightly, «what does your mommy look like?»
«She has long brown hair, but it’s not shiny anymore, and she has pretty eyes that used to smile a lot, but now they look sad all the time. She’s thirty-seven, and she works cleaning offices at night when she’s not too sick. She used to work at a really tall building downtown before we moved here.»
James’s hand trembled against the phone. Rachel Santos, now Martinez. The woman he’d searched for desperately eleven years ago, who’d vanished right around the time his security chief had recommended tightening protocol around executive floors due to industrial espionage concerns. He’d always wondered if that had something to do with her sudden departure.
«Madison, sweetie, I need you to do something very important for me. Try to wake up your mommy again. Tell her that James Crawford is on the phone and that I’m coming to help.»
«You know my mommy?»
Before James could answer, he heard shuffling, then Madison’s voice becoming distant. «Mommy, wake up. There’s a man on the phone who says he knows you. His name is James Crawford.»
The silence that followed was deafening. Then a sharp intake of breath and Rachel’s voice, weak but unmistakably hers. «Give me the phone. Right now.»
James waited, his heart pounding as he heard whispered conversation, footsteps, and finally Rachel’s voice, hoarse but filled with shock and something that sounded like panic. «James, is it really you?»
«Rachel.» The name came out like a prayer. «My God, Rachel, I looked for you. After you stopped showing up for work, I tried to find you, but you’d just vanished.»
«I—» her voice broke. «James, I can’t do this conversation right now. Madison shouldn’t have called you. We’ll figure something else out.»
«Figure what out? Rachel, three children called me for help because their mother is unconscious and they have no food. I don’t care what happened between us eleven years ago. I care about making sure those little girls are safe tonight.»
Through the phone, he heard Madison’s voice. «Mommy, is the man really coming? Will he bring medicine to make you feel better?»
Rachel’s sigh was heavy with exhaustion and defeat. «James, this isn’t your responsibility.»
«Maybe not, but I’m making it my responsibility. Give me your address.»
«You don’t understand. Things are complicated. Madison, she—»
Rachel’s voice trailed off, and James heard her sharp intake of breath. «Oh God, what has she been told to call you?»
«She called me Daddy. Rachel, is there something you need to tell me?»
The silence stretched so long James thought the call had dropped. Finally, Rachel whispered, «1247 Bleeker Street, Apartment 3B, above the old Giovanni’s Bakery.»
«I’ll be there in thirty minutes, Rachel. Yes, we’re going to talk. About everything.»
As James hung up, his hands shook. His reflection in the window showed a man transformed, no longer just a successful CEO, but someone about to face a past he’d never fully understood and a future he couldn’t have imagined.
He turned back to the boardroom where his executives waited. «Gentlemen, we’re postponing this meeting indefinitely. Cancel everything on my schedule for tomorrow.»
«Sir, the Shanghai deal!»
«We’ll wait.»
James grabbed his coat, his mind racing with questions that had no easy answers. Rachel Santos, who’d become Rachel Martinez, a child who’d been taught to call him Daddy in emergencies. And most importantly, the math that was becoming clearer by the second: eleven years ago, Madison almost eleven now.
As his private elevator descended toward the garage, James Crawford realized his carefully controlled world was about to change forever. The only question was whether he was ready for the truth he might find waiting in Apartment 3B.
The Mercedes S-Class felt absurdly out of place as James navigated the narrow, pothole-filled streets of Rachel’s neighborhood. Forty minutes earlier, he’d been discussing multi-billion dollar acquisitions. Now he was driving through an area that reminded him why he’d worked so hard to escape his own humble beginnings.
