Chapter 6
At eleven weeks, I went for another ultrasound.
Eleanor came with me.
The doctor smiled at the screen.
“Everything looks good.”
I stared at the tiny flicker.
A heartbeat.
Fast.
Perfect.
Real.
I cried.
Not because I was sad.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about Adrian.
I was thinking about my child.
My future.
My life.
Then the doctor said something that changed everything.
“You’ll want to be careful over the next few months.”
“Why?”
“Stress.”
She looked at me.
“Your blood pressure is elevated.”
I nodded.
“I’ll be careful.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
When we left the clinic, a black sedan was parked across the street.
My heart stopped.
Eleanor noticed.
“Do you know that car?”
I stared at it.
“No.”
The vehicle drove away.
But something felt wrong.
That night, Adrian called.
I answered.
“Claire?”
“How did you know I went to the doctor?”
Silence.
“I didn’t.”
“Someone was watching the clinic.”
His voice changed instantly.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Stay inside.”
“Adrian—”
“Listen to me.”
I heard movement in the background.
“Someone has been asking questions about you.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“You said you were protecting me.”
“I am.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
A pause.
“The Russo family.”
My stomach dropped.
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Her brother.”
I remembered the name.
Marco Russo.
A man Adrian had once described as unpredictable.
“He believes the marriage changed the balance of power.”
“What does he want?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re carrying my heir.”
I closed my eyes.
“I’m not a bargaining chip.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t treat me like one.”
“I won’t.”
“Adrian.”
“Yes?”
“I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“If anything happens to me, you protect the baby.”
His breathing stopped.
“Don’t say that.”
“Promise me.”
“Claire.”
“Promise.”
His voice broke.
“I promise.”
The attack came three nights later.
At 1:26 a.m., the power went out.
I woke instantly.
Eleanor was downstairs.
I heard glass breaking.
Then a gunshot.
I grabbed my phone.
Another shot.
“Claire!”
Eleanor screamed.
I ran downstairs.
She stood near the kitchen, holding her arm.
Blood.
My heart stopped.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
Another window shattered.
Eleanor grabbed my hand.
“Back door.”
We ran.
The house was surrounded.
Men moved through the darkness.
I heard shouting.
Then headlights flooded the yard.
Black SUVs.
Dozens of them.
Adrian’s men.
The front gate exploded inward.
Security flooded the property.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Eleanor pulled me behind a wall.
I crouched, shaking.
Then I heard a familiar voice.
“CLAIRE!”
Adrian.
He ran through the doorway.
I had never seen him move like that.
He crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of me.
His hands stopped inches from my body.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He looked at Eleanor.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing.”
Adrian called for a medic.
Then his eyes returned to me.
“You were supposed to be safe.”
“I was.”
His jaw tightened.
“Not safe enough.”
He reached toward me.
Stopped.
“Can I touch you?”
I stared at him.
Then nodded.
His hand rested gently against my cheek.
His eyes closed.
For a moment, the terrifying Adrian Moretti disappeared.
There was only my husband.
The man who had once held me outside a courthouse and promised forever.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I looked at him.
“This isn’t your fault.”
“It is.”
“Adrian—”
“It is.”
He swallowed.
“I brought this world to you.”
I shook my head.
“You brought yourself to me.”
His eyes opened.
“And I still love you.”
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Adrian froze.
I froze too.
Three years of love.
Three years of silence.
And one sentence had finally broken through everything.
His forehead touched mine.
“I never stopped.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You can’t fix three years.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“But I can spend the rest of my life proving I learned from them.”
I closed my eyes.
May you like
Then I whispered:
“Start by taking me home.”
