Chapter 6
The order had Victor Hale’s fingerprints all over it.
Not literally.
Men like him never touched dirt with their own hands.
But his assistant had filed the emergency request.
His donor had recommended the psychiatrist.
His friend at family court had pushed it through before sunrise.
By noon, Gary’s attorneys had blocked it.
By three, the hospital had a police detail outside my floor.
By sunset, Victor Hale appeared on television talking about family values.
I watched from my bed while my baby kicked under my palm.
“He’s smiling,” Rocco said.
“He thinks he won.”
Gary stood near the window.
“No. He thinks we’re afraid.”
“Are we?” I asked.
Gary turned.
“Yes.”
That answer scared me more than any lie would have.
He walked to my bed and sat in the chair Preston should have been sitting in.
“Audrey, there are things about this family you don’t know.”
“I know enough.”
“No,” he said. “You know what touched you. You don’t know what built it.”
Rocco’s face hardened.
“Grandpa.”
“He deserves truth.”
I looked at him.
“So do I.”
Gary nodded.
“Years ago, Victor helped me move the Marino businesses out of the streets and into legitimate work. Construction. Shipping. Real estate. But he kept records of the old days. Names. Payments. Favors.”
My throat tightened.
“And Brenda knew?”
“Brenda used it.”
“Against you?”
“Against anyone who stood between her and power.”
Rocco whispered, “Including Dad?”
Gary looked at him sadly.
“Your father has always wanted the crown without carrying the weight.”
That broke something in Rocco.
He sat down hard.
“I thought he was just weak.”
“Sometimes weakness becomes cruelty when someone offers it a reward.”
I stared at Gary.
“What reward?”
“The trust,” he said. “If your baby is born, Preston loses majority control. If something happens to you before delivery, Brenda can argue instability. If something happens to the child…”
“Stop.”
My voice cracked.
Gary stopped.
I couldn’t breathe through the rest.
Rocco put his forehead against my hand.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I touched his hair.
“You didn’t do this.”
“But I heard things. I should’ve said something sooner.”
“You saved us.”
He shook his head.
“No. I waited.”
That night, the hospital fire alarm went off.
At first, no one panicked.
Then smoke slid under the door.
The guard outside shouted.
“Move her now!”
Rocco grabbed my shoes.
Gary grabbed my hospital bag.
The nurse unhooked the monitors with shaking hands.
I stood, but pain shot through my stomach.
“I can’t.”
Rocco threw my arm over his shoulder.
“Yes, you can.”
The hallway was chaos.
Patients.
Nurses.
Alarms.
Smoke.
A sprinkler burst overhead.
Then I saw him.
Preston.
At the far end of the hall.
Not running toward me.
Running away.
In his hand was a visitor badge and a lighter.
Our eyes met.
For one second, he looked like my husband.
Then he disappeared through the stairwell.
“Preston!” I screamed.
Gary heard me.
His face changed.
The guard ran after him.
We made it to another wing.
Dr. Ellis checked me in an empty exam room while Rocco paced like a caged animal.
The baby’s heartbeat returned.
Strong.
Steady.
I cried silently into my hands.
Gary came in twenty minutes later.
His suit was soaked from sprinklers.
His face was gray.
“They caught the man who started it.”
“Preston?”
Gary shook his head.
“A hospital janitor paid to pull the alarm and light a trash bin.”
“But I saw Preston.”
Gary’s eyes darkened.
“So did the cameras.”
Rocco looked up.
“Where is he?”
Gary didn’t answer.
A detective stepped into the room.
“Mrs. Marino,” she said, “your husband just filed a statement claiming you imagined seeing him because of pregnancy-related emotional distress.”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
It sounded almost insane.
May you like
Then the detective held up a tablet.
“But we have video.”
