Chapter 8 - SEVEN MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT
Andrew called at 11:53 p.m.
Seven minutes before Christmas ended.
Claire was asleep.
Rebecca was downstairs drinking terrible hospital coffee.
I sat in a chair outside Claire’s room with my phone in my hand.
“Danny.”
“Andrew.”
“You took my guest.”
“She isn’t yours.”
“You always did steal things.”
“According to Dad, that was more his specialty.”
Silence.
“You heard the recording.”
“Part of it.”
“He tell you why I hate you?”
“No.”
Andrew laughed softly.
“Because you never had to know what he was.”
I looked through the small window in Claire’s door.
She slept on her side.
The monitor beside her glowed steadily.
“You think I didn’t?”
“No, Daniel. You knew he was violent. You knew he was ruthless. You got the version that taught you how to win.”
His voice became harder.
“I got the version who made me watch a man burn and then told me it would destroy our family if I spoke.”
“You were a child.”
“So were you.”
“Yes.”
“But you became his prince.”
“I became useful.”
“You inherited everything.”
“Not everything.”
“You inherited his name.”
“So did you.”
“No.”
His laugh was bitter.
“I inherited a fake birth certificate and a mother who wasn’t mine.”
I leaned back.
“I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“What?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what he did to you.”
Andrew did not speak.
“But you don’t get to pass it to Ella.”
His breathing changed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“Your daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Your precious little heir.”
“My child.”
“The child who takes what should have been mine.”
“She hasn’t taken anything.”
“She will the moment she breathes.”
“And that matters to you more than whether she survives?”
He went silent.
That was answer enough.
“You became him,” I said.
“No.”
“You became the thing you claim to hate.”
“No!”
His voice cracked with sudden fury.
“Patrick took my life before I understood what a life was. He erased my mother. My age. My place in this family. Then he built a trust designed to humiliate me from the grave.”
“And your solution was to poison Claire.”
“I never told Pierce to poison her.”
“Then what?”
“I told him to make her sick.”
I stood.
“What?”
“I wanted her frightened. I wanted a complicated pregnancy. I wanted her to leave Chicago.”
“You changed her medication.”
“Pierce said it would cause discomfort.”
“He lied.”
“So did everyone.”
“That doesn’t absolve you.”
“I didn’t send those men to kill her in Michigan.”
“Then why were they there?”
“To bring her back.”
“With guns?”
“She was with Michael’s people.”
“She was with a retired doctor!”
Andrew swore.
“That wasn’t what I was told.”
I went still.
“Who told you?”
Silence.
“Andrew.”
The line clicked.
Another call entered.
Michael.
I switched.
“Talk.”
“Claire’s floor has a problem.”
My heart stopped.
“What problem?”
“One of the night nurses tried to access her chart under another employee’s login.”
I was already moving.
“Where?”
“Security stopped her. She ran.”
“Lock the elevators.”
“Done.”
I entered Claire’s room.
She woke immediately.
“What happened?”
“We’re moving.”
Her face changed.
“Why?”
“Someone tried to access your chart.”
She sat up.
“Andrew?”
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca came in behind me.
“What’s going on?”
I called Michael back.
“Description.”
“Woman, thirties, blond, blue scrubs.”
Claire grabbed my arm.
“Daniel.”
I looked at her.
“Bianca is blond.”
I went cold.
“No.”
“What?”
“She called me yesterday.”
I stared.
“You spoke to Bianca?”
“She said she wanted to apologize. I didn’t answer.”
“Did she know where you were?”
“No.”
“Did she leave voicemail?”
“Yes.”
“Play it.”
Claire grabbed her phone.
The voicemail filled the room.
Bianca sounded terrified.
“Claire, you don’t owe me anything. I know that. I’m calling because Andrew isn’t the only one you need to be afraid of. There’s someone else. Someone who knew about the trust before he did. Someone close to Daniel. I’m trying to get proof. Please don’t—”
The message ended.
Michael entered.
“Elevator camera.”
He held up the image.
The woman in scrubs was not Bianca.
It was Dr. Malcolm Pierce’s daughter.
Natalie Pierce.
Claire recognized her.
“She came to the penthouse once.”
“When?”
“After I got sick. She said her father sent her to draw blood.”
My rage returned.
Michael spoke.
“Pierce’s clinic records show Natalie works with him.”
“Find them both.”
“We’re trying.”
The fire alarm sounded.
Claire flinched.
Red lights began flashing.
Michael looked toward the ceiling.
“No smoke.”
“Diversion.”
He nodded.
“Service elevator.”
Rebecca grabbed Claire’s coat.
“I’ll get her dressed.”
“No time,” Michael said.
The lights went out.
Emergency power kicked in.
Then gunshots echoed from the stairwell.
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
I pulled my weapon.
“Michael.”
“Two men with me.”
The hospital door opened.
One of Michael’s guards entered.
“South stairs breached.”
“Take Rebecca.”
Claire immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“Claire.”
“She stays with me.”
I looked at Rebecca.
She nodded.
“Fine.”
I turned to Claire.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
She tried to stand.
A contraction hit instantly.
Claire doubled over.
“Maybe.”
My entire body tightened.
“How bad?”
“Not now.”
“Claire—”
“Not now, Daniel!”
Michael checked the hallway.
“We have thirty seconds.”
I looked at Claire.
Then at her belly.
“Can I carry you?”
Her eyes met mine.
For a second, six years of marriage existed between that question and her answer.
“Yes.”
I lifted her.
She wrapped one arm around my neck.
The smell of her hair hit me so hard I almost lost focus.
We moved through a staff corridor.
Rebecca followed.
Gunfire sounded behind us.
Michael’s men returned it.
Claire buried her face against my shoulder.
“Daniel.”
“I have you.”
“You said that before.”
The words hurt.
“I know.”
I kept moving.
This time, I would prove it instead of demanding she believe it.
We reached the service elevator.
Locked.
Michael swore.
“Maintenance stairs.”
Another contraction hit.
Claire cried out.
I held her tighter.
Rebecca looked down.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
Her face went white.
Liquid was running down Claire’s leg.
Claire stared.
“No.”
Dr. Foster’s warning returned.
If her water breaks, we move.
Except we were already moving.
And men were coming up the stairs.
Claire’s eyes filled with terror.
“It’s too early.”
I pressed my forehead to hers.
“Look at me.”
“She’s too early.”
“Look at me.”
Claire did.
“Ella is not being born in a stairwell.”
Despite everything, she almost laughed.
Then a bullet struck the wall behind Michael.
“MOVE!”
We reached the operating wing.
A nurse recognized the situation instantly.
“Labor?”
“Thirty-one weeks,” Rebecca shouted.
“Thirty-two tomorrow,” Claire corrected through clenched teeth.
Even terrified, she was precise.
The nurse opened a secure door.
“Inside.”
Michael remained in the corridor.
I carried Claire through.
The door locked behind us.
For the next ten minutes, the world became doctors.
Monitors.
Questions.
Needles.
Claire gripping my hand.
Someone telling us the baby’s heartbeat was strong but labor was progressing.
A physician said they would try to stop it.
Another said they needed to prepare in case they couldn’t.
I stood beside Claire’s bed.
She cried silently.
“I wanted more time.”
“I know.”
“She’s supposed to be safe inside me.”
“She is safe with you.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“It has been for thirty-one weeks.”
She looked at me.
“You really think she’ll be okay?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire’s face broke.
I tightened my grip.
“But I know she has you.”
A nurse interrupted.
“Mr. Carter, security needs you outside.”
“No.”
“They said it’s urgent.”
Claire looked at me.
“Go.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Daniel.”
“I promised.”
“You promised to do everything you could to protect us.”
She glanced toward the door.
“Right now that might mean leaving this room.”
I hated that she was right.
I kissed her hand before I could stop myself.
Claire froze.
So did I.
“Sorry.”
Her fingers closed around mine.
“Go.”
I stepped into the corridor.
Michael was waiting.
Blood covered one sleeve.
“Yours?”
“No.”
“Andrew?”
“Not here.”
“Then who?”
Michael held out a phone recovered from one of the attackers.
On the screen was a message.
CONFIRM MOTHER AND CHILD BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
Sender:
E. CARTER.
I stared.
Evelyn Carter.
My mother.
For several seconds, I could not breathe.
May you like
Then Michael said the words I was already thinking.
“Daniel, we may have been looking at the wrong Carter.”
