Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Wanted the Baby Alive
Erin woke inside a moving vehicle with her wrists bound.
Her first instinct wasn't fear for herself.
It was her stomach.
She twisted enough to place both hands protectively over her abdomen.
The baby was still there.
No pain.
No bleeding.
She breathed.
Across from her sat a woman in a cream-colored coat.
Elegant.
Silver-blonde hair.
Perfect posture.
Claire Cross.
Erin had seen old photographs.
Time had sharpened rather than softened her beauty.
“You're awake,” Claire said.
Erin stared.
“You poisoned me.”
Claire's expression remained calm.
“Yes.”
No denial.
No apology.
Erin's stomach turned.
“You tried to kill my baby.”
“At first.”
The phrase was somehow worse.
“At first?”
Claire looked toward the rain-damp road.
“Before I understood what your child represented.”
Erin pulled against the restraints.
“If Damien finds you—”
“He will.”
Claire smiled faintly.
“That is part of the plan.”
Erin studied her.
“You want him to follow.”
“I need both of you.”
“For the trust.”
Claire looked impressed.
“You learn quickly.”
“Occupational requirement.”
The SUV left the highway.
Erin forced herself to stay calm.
Stress was dangerous.
She remembered Whitfield's warning.
Slow breaths.
Think.
Observe.
Two men in front.
Claire.
No visible weapons except the driver's shoulder holster.
Road surface changed from asphalt to gravel.
Travel time since North House?
Impossible to know.
Maybe twenty minutes.
“Why poison me?” Erin asked.
Claire's eyes stayed ahead.
“Because I didn't know whose child you were carrying.”
“You knew it was Damien's.”
“I suspected.”
“So why?”
“Because if Damien's child died before birth, the trust would remain inaccessible.”
“For four hundred million dollars?”
Claire laughed softly.
“You think this is about money?”
“Your son said it wasn't.”
“Noah has always understood too little.”
“Then explain.”
Claire looked at her.
“Patrick Cross discovered something shortly before his death.”
“What?”
“That Damien was not his biological son.”
Erin stopped breathing.
Claire continued.
“Neither was Noah.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It does if Patrick's wife had been unfaithful.”
“Damien's mother?”
Claire nodded.
“So the unnamed son—”
“Patrick's only biological child.”
“Who?”
Claire's smile disappeared.
“You'll learn soon.”
Erin's thoughts raced.
If Damien wasn't Patrick's biological son, her baby shouldn't activate the trust.
Unless—
“Then why did the trust activate when I became pregnant?”
Claire watched her.
“Exactly.”
The answer landed before Erin could stop it.
“Damien is Patrick's biological son.”
Claire's face tightened.
“You are clever.”
“Then your claim was wrong.”
“No.”
Claire leaned forward.
“Patrick believed Damien wasn't his.”
“But DNA proved otherwise.”
“Apparently.”
Erin stared.
Claire's calm façade cracked.
“For thirty years, I was told my son had been robbed of a legacy. Then I discovered Noah wasn't Patrick's either. Do you understand what that does to a person?”
“No.”
Erin's voice turned cold.
“And I don't care.”
Claire slapped her.
The impact snapped Erin's head sideways.
Immediately Claire looked at her abdomen.
“Don't make me do that again.”
Erin tasted blood.
“You're afraid of hurting the baby now.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Claire narrowed her eyes.
Erin smiled despite the pain.
“That means you need me more than I need you.”
Claire's expression darkened.
The SUV stopped at an isolated estate.
Erin was moved into a bedroom.
No windows that opened.
One door.
Camera in the ceiling.
They removed the restraints.
Food arrived.
Erin didn't touch it.
Water came in a sealed bottle.
Still she refused.
Hours passed.
She sat on the bed, conserving energy.
Then the door opened.
Dr. Alan Whitfield walked in.
Erin stared.
“No.”
Whitfield closed the door.
“Erin.”
“You're part of this.”
“Not willingly.”
“You were the trustee.”
His face changed.
“You know.”
“Noah told Damien.”
Whitfield sat.
“Then Damien will understand soon.”
“Understand what?”
“That the trust was never primarily financial.”
Erin stood.
“What was it?”
“Insurance.”
“Against whom?”
Whitfield looked toward the camera.
Then lowered his voice.
“Claire.”
Erin froze.
“Patrick knew she was dangerous.”
“So why marry her?”
“He didn't know at first.”
Whitfield opened his medical bag.
“Years later, he discovered Claire had been stealing from him, manipulating accounts, paying men inside the syndicate.”
“Did she kill him?”
Whitfield met Erin's eyes.
“Yes.”
A chill passed through her.
“Can you prove it?”
“The proof is inside the trust.”
“Then why hasn't anyone opened it?”
“Patrick designed the release conditions himself.”
“Why wait for a grandchild?”
Whitfield gave a tired smile.
“Because he trusted blood more than courts.”
“That sounds insane.”
“Patrick often was.”
Erin paced slowly.
“And the DNA file?”
“It proves Damien is Patrick's biological son.”
“But Claire thought he wasn't.”
“Patrick deliberately let her believe that.”
Erin stared.
“Why?”
“To protect Damien.”
Whitfield nodded.
“Claire believed there was another heir. She spent years searching for him instead of targeting Damien.”
Erin whispered, “The unnamed DNA sample.”
“Damien.”
“What?”
“The second sample in the old report wasn't another child.”
Whitfield looked almost embarrassed.
“Patrick had Damien tested twice under separate identifiers.”
Erin sat.
The entire mystery collapsed into place.
“There was never another son.”
“No.”
“So Claire poisoned me because she thought my pregnancy would reveal Damien wasn't legitimate.”
“Yes.”
“But when the trust activated…”
“She realized Patrick had deceived her.”
“And now?”
Whitfield's expression turned grim.
“Now she needs the baby born.”
“Why?”
“When the child is born and biological descent is confirmed, the trust releases.”
“To Damien.”
“Yes.”
“Then why would Claire want that?”
“Because she believes she can force Damien to transfer everything.”
Erin laughed bitterly.
“She doesn't know Damien very well.”
“No.”
Whitfield's voice lowered.
“But she knows how to threaten him.”
Erin's hand moved to her stomach.
Whitfield nodded.
“You.”
Her blood turned cold.
Meanwhile, Damien was tearing Boston apart.
Every camera.
Every toll booth.
Every license plate reader.
Every private contact.
Within three hours Roman found the SUV.
Abandoned.
Within five, Noah identified one of Claire's known shell corporations.
A property appeared in southern Maine.
Damien prepared to leave immediately.
Noah blocked the doorway.
“You can't storm it.”
“Move.”
“She wants you angry.”
“Then she's succeeded.”
“She'll kill Erin if she thinks she's losing control.”
Damien stopped.
Noah stepped closer.
“You need to think.”
Damien grabbed his coat.
“I am thinking.”
“No. You're reacting.”
Roman watched carefully.
Noah continued.
“You taught me something when I was eighteen.”
Damien looked at him.
“You said the first man to lose control loses the room.”
For a long moment nobody spoke.
Then Damien slowly released the coat.
“Blueprints.”
Roman brought them.
The Maine estate had three entrances.
Underground utilities.
Security cameras.
A private garage.
Damien studied every detail.
Then his phone rang.
Claire.
He answered.
“Where is she?”
Claire's voice was calm.
“Alive.”
“Let me hear her.”
A pause.
Then Erin's voice.
“Damien?”
His eyes closed.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
“Baby?”
“Heartbeat was checked. Still strong.”
Relief nearly broke him.
Claire returned.
“Touching.”
“What do you want?”
“Tomorrow morning, you will come alone.”
“Where?”
“You'll receive coordinates.”
“If Erin has one bruise—”
“Threats are boring, Damien.”
His jaw tightened.
Claire continued.
“Bring every legal document required to transfer Atlantic Harbor Logistics, the Cross real estate holdings, and all liquid assets under your control.”
“You think I'm signing over an empire?”
“For your child's life?”
Claire laughed softly.
“I think you'll sign anything.”
Damien said nothing.
Because she was right.
Claire ended the call.
Roman stared.
“You're not actually going alone.”
Damien looked at him.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Prepare the documents.”
“Boss—”
“All of them.”
Noah stepped forward.
“She'll kill you.”
Damien looked toward the dark windows.
“If I have to choose between my empire and Erin, there is no choice.”
He turned back.
“No company is worth her life.”
Noah watched him carefully.
“And the baby?”
Damien's face softened.
“Both of them.”
Roman finally understood.
Damien wasn't bluffing.
The man who had spent fifteen years building an empire was prepared to surrender it in fifteen minutes.
Upstairs in Maine, Erin stared at Whitfield.
“There has to be another way out.”
The doctor hesitated.
Then glanced toward the camera.
He opened his medical bag.
Inside was a small transmitter.
“I was hoping you'd say that.”
Erin's eyes widened.
Whitfield whispered.
“I activated it when I entered.”
“Who is receiving?”
“I don't know.”
“What?”
“Patrick gave it to me eight years ago.”
Erin stared.
“Then who—”
Outside the room, footsteps approached.
Whitfield snapped the bag shut.
The door opened.
Claire entered.
She looked at Whitfield.
Then Erin.
Then slowly at the medical bag.
“Something wrong?”
“No,” Whitfield said.
Claire smiled.
“Good.”
She stepped inside.
Behind her stood a man holding a pistol.
“Because tomorrow morning,” Claire said, “Damien Cross is going to give me everything.”
Her gaze settled on Erin's stomach.
“And if he refuses…”
The armed man raised the gun.
Claire smiled.
May you like
“…you'll finally discover how much he loves you.”
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