Chapter 3 - The Ride to the Hospital
I had one rule left that morning.
Do not turn Claire’s fear into another excuse to control her.
Then I saw the man with the camera.
Everything instinctive inside me demanded action.
Block the street.
Take the sedan.
Drag the driver out.
Find out who sent him.
Instead, I told Rafael, “Get the plate. Nothing else.”
He stared at me.
“Boss—”
“Nothing else.”
The SUV stopped at the curb.
I got out alone.
The gray sedan pulled away.
I watched it disappear.
Then Claire screamed my name from inside the basement.
Every other problem ceased to exist.
I found her gripping the edge of the table.
Water pooled on the concrete floor beneath her.
Her face had gone pale.
“This is too early,” she whispered.
“Thirty-five weeks isn’t ideal, but babies are born safely at thirty-five weeks all the time.”
“How do you know?”
“I looked it up in the car.”
She stared at me.
“You searched premature delivery statistics?”
“I had three minutes.”
Despite everything, she laughed.
Then another contraction hit.
The laugh became a gasp.
I moved forward, then stopped myself.
“Can I touch you?”
Her eyes opened.
The question mattered.
I saw that immediately.
“Yes.”
I took her hand.
She nearly crushed my fingers.
“Car is outside.”
“No convoy.”
“One car.”
“No armed men in the hospital.”
“Agreed.”
“No people calling doctors and telling them who you are.”
I hesitated.
Claire glared.
“Agreed.”
“And I choose what happens medically.”
“Claire, that one was never—”
She raised an eyebrow.
I corrected myself.
“Agreed.”
The drive felt endless.
Claire sat beside me, breathing through contractions.
I sat close enough to help but did not touch her unless she reached for me first.
At one point she whispered, “You can hold my hand.”
So I did.
And somehow that simple permission meant more than the wedding ring she no longer wore.
At the hospital entrance, a nurse brought a wheelchair.
Claire refused it.
Then another contraction hit and she accepted without argument.
Inside triage, paperwork appeared.
“Relationship to patient?” the nurse asked me.
I looked at Claire.
She answered.
“Husband.”
I had not realized how much I needed to hear that word until then.
Not because it meant ownership.
Because it meant she had not completely erased me.
They placed Claire in a room and attached monitors to her stomach.
A rapid heartbeat filled the space.
Our baby.
For thirty-five weeks, a life had been growing without me knowing.
I stared at the screen.
Claire noticed.
“That’s your daughter.”
I looked at her.
“Daughter?”
She nodded.
Something happened to my face because Claire’s expression softened.
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
“She’s a girl.”
I laughed once.
It came out broken.
“A girl.”
“Don’t look so terrified.”
“I’m not terrified.”
“You look terrified.”
“I’ve negotiated with people who wanted to bury me under concrete.”
“Exactly. And this scares you.”
“Yes.”
The admission surprised both of us.
The obstetrician entered.
Claire’s contractions had slowed slightly, but labor had started.
Medication might delay delivery.
Maybe hours.
Maybe days.
Maybe not at all.
The doctor explained possible complications.
Neonatal support.
Breathing assistance.
Observation.
Claire listened calmly until the doctor left.
Then her fingers started shaking.
“I can’t do this.”
I sat beside her.
“You already are.”
“What if she’s too small?”
“We’ll handle it.”
“What if something happens?”
“We handle that too.”
“You always say that.”
I froze.
Claire looked at the ceiling.
“You say everything can be handled like it’s a business problem.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Tell me you’re scared.”
I swallowed.
“I’m terrified.”
She looked at me.
“I’m terrified that she’ll need something I can’t fix. I’m terrified you’ll disappear again. I’m terrified that if you stay, I’ll ruin it by becoming the man you ran from.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“That’s better.”
“Better?”
“Honest.”
For several minutes, the only sound was our daughter’s heartbeat.
Then my phone vibrated.
Rafael.
I ignored it.
Again.
Again.
Claire glanced at the phone.
“You should answer.”
“Not now.”
“It might matter.”
“You matter.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Dominic.”
I answered.
“What?”
Rafael’s voice was low.
“The sedan is registered to a shell company.”
“Whose?”
“We’re working on it. But there’s more.”
I looked at Claire.
“Talk.”
“Someone accessed records connected to her prenatal clinic yesterday.”
My blood chilled.
“How?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Was information taken?”
“Yes.”
“What information?”
“Address. Appointment history. Due date.”
Claire had heard enough.
Her face changed.
“What’s happening?”
I ended the call.
“Someone may have found you before I did.”
She turned pale.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said no men.”
“And there won’t be men in this room.”
“Dominic—”
“I am not taking over.”
I forced myself to keep my voice level.
“But I need to tell hospital security there may be a privacy concern.”
Her fear sharpened.
“This is your world.”
The accusation hurt because it was almost certainly true.
“Yes.”
“You brought this to me.”
“Maybe.”
“My baby—”
“Our daughter is going to be safe.”
“You can’t promise that!”
She was right.
Again.
I breathed.
“I can promise I won’t make decisions without you.”
Claire pressed both palms to her face.
After a moment, she whispered, “Tell hospital security.”
“Nothing beyond that?”
“Not yet.”
I nodded.
Then something happened that neither of us expected.
Claire reached out.
Her fingers closed around my wrist.
“Stay.”
“I’m staying.”
“No matter what happens?”
I looked at her.
“As long as you want me here.”
She nodded.
That was when the monitors changed.
A nurse rushed in.
Then another.
The baby’s heartbeat had dropped.
Claire’s face went white.
“What’s happening?”
The nurse adjusted the monitor.
“Turn onto your left side.”
Claire obeyed.
The heartbeat recovered.
Everyone exhaled.
Then the door opened.
Rafael stood in the hallway despite my instructions, his expression grim.
I started toward him.
He handed me his phone.
On the screen was a photograph.
Claire leaving her prenatal clinic.
Taken two days earlier.
Under it was a message sent to one of my former business rivals.
FOUND HER.
I felt something ancient and violent rise inside me.
But then Claire spoke behind me.
“Dominic.”
I turned.
She had seen my face.
Fear returned to hers.
Not fear of the unknown person following her.
Fear of me.
I understood the choice in front of me.
The old Dominic would leave the room and start a war.
The man Claire needed would stay.
I handed the phone back to Rafael.
“Handle it legally.”
His eyes widened.
“Police. Hospital security. Attorneys. Whatever it takes.”
“You sure?”
I looked at Claire.
“Yes.”
I returned to her bedside.
She studied me.
“You’re staying?”
“I said I would.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Several hours later, the contractions intensified.
The doctor checked her again.
Labor had progressed.
Our daughter was coming whether either of us was ready or not.
Claire grabbed my hand.
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
And when the doctor announced they were moving us to delivery, Claire whispered something I could barely hear.
“Don’t let go.”
I tightened my fingers around hers.
“I won’t.”
But outside the room, another man watched us through the narrow window in the door.
May you like
And this time, he wasn’t one of mine.
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