Chapter 4 - The Woman Sarah Trusted
The person who entered Sarah’s apartment that evening did not need to break the lock. She carried a spare key, knew the alarm code, and had held Sarah’s hand during every prenatal appointment.
Lydia Mitchell was Sarah’s older sister.
For ten years, she had blamed Declan Hayes for the death of her husband, Detective Aaron Mitchell. Aaron had investigated the Hayes Syndicate and disappeared after discovering evidence connecting its shipping company to weapons trafficking. His body was found in Boston Harbor three weeks later.
Sarah never knew the full story.
Lydia did.
She entered the apartment with a suitcase containing forged passports, cash, and a syringe Vincent had given her. Her task was simple: remove Sarah from Declan’s protection and bring her to a waterfront safe house.
Lydia told herself she was saving her sister.
She ignored the fact that Vincent’s earlier plan had nearly killed her.
At the clinic, Sarah’s condition improved slowly. Declan moved her to his fortified estate outside the city, where every meal was tested and every room guarded.
Sarah hated the feeling of imprisonment.
“I need clothes,” she said.
“They will be brought.”
“My medical records are at my apartment.”
“We have copies.”
“My mother’s necklace is there.”
Declan looked up from his phone.
Sarah rarely mentioned her mother, who had died when she was nineteen.
“I will retrieve it.”
“You don’t know where it is.”
“Tell Marcus.”
She sighed. “Or Lydia can bring it.”
Declan’s instincts reacted immediately.
“Your sister knows about the pregnancy?”
“She was the first person I told.”
He became still. “When?”
“Eight weeks ago.”
Before the poison symptoms became severe.
“What else does she know?”
Sarah frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Answer.”
“She knows about Miami. She knows the baby is yours.”
Declan called Marcus. “Find Lydia Mitchell.”
Sarah rose from the bed. “You think my sister poisoned me?”
“I think everyone with information is a suspect.”
“She would never hurt me.”
“Aaron Mitchell investigated my family.”
Sarah’s expression changed.
“You knew Aaron?”
Declan had avoided this truth for years.
“He attempted to expose Vincent’s weapons route. Vincent ordered his death.”
“And you did nothing?”
“I was not in control then.”
“But you knew afterward.”
“Yes.”
The hurt on Sarah’s face was worse than anger.
“You let me work for you for three years without telling me your family murdered my brother-in-law?”
“I believed Vincent was dead.”
“That does not answer me.”
“No,” Declan said. “It does not.”
Sarah turned away, wrapping her arms around herself.
“You always decide which truths other people are allowed to know.”
“I was wrong.”
She looked at him sharply, perhaps because Declan Hayes rarely admitted fault.
“I cannot ask you to trust me while withholding what affects your family,” he said. “Aaron died trying to stop Vincent. I should have told you.”
Marcus called back.
Lydia’s car had been found near Sarah’s apartment, but she was missing.
Security footage showed her leaving with a suitcase and entering a black vehicle registered to a shell company linked to Vincent.
Sarah sat down slowly.
“No.”
“She may be under coercion,” Declan said.
“She knew.” Tears gathered in Sarah’s eyes. “Lydia kept asking why I worked for you. She said the Hayes family destroyed everything she loved.”
Declan knelt before her.
“That does not prove she poisoned you.”
“But she knew about the vitamins. She came to every appointment. She picked up the first bottle for me.”
The betrayal struck Sarah harder than the medical diagnosis. Declan held her as she cried, though she resisted at first.
“I trusted her.”
“I know.”
“What if she wanted my baby to die because it was yours?”
Declan could not offer a comforting lie.
“We will find her.”
Lydia contacted Sarah an hour later using a blocked number.
Her face appeared on a video call, pale and desperate.
“Sarah, you have to leave Declan.”
“Did you poison me?”
Lydia flinched. “I didn’t know what was inside the vitamins.”
“Did you collect them from the pharmacy?”
“Yes, but Vincent said they would make you sick enough to stop working for Declan. He said once you were away from him, the exposure would stop.”
“You knew Vincent was alive?”
“He contacted me two years ago. He told me what happened to Aaron.”
Sarah’s hands trembled. “You worked with Aaron’s murderer?”
“I worked with the only man who had evidence.”
“He used you.”
“I know that now.” Lydia looked behind her nervously. “Listen to me. Vincent is planning something at the charity gala tomorrow night.”
Declan moved closer to the screen. “Where are you?”
Lydia’s fear deepened when she saw him.
“I won’t tell you.”
“He will kill you when you are no longer useful.”
“I know.”
“Then help us stop him.”
Lydia hesitated. “Vincent has people inside your security team. He plans to attack the gala and make it appear that a rival family killed Sarah. Afterward, he will use the violence to unite the remaining factions under him.”
“Names,” Declan demanded.
“I only know one. Captain Robert Kane.”
Declan felt a cold shock.
Kane commanded the estate’s outer security.
At that exact moment, the lights failed.
Gunfire erupted near the front gates.
“Get down!” Declan pulled Sarah behind the bed as bullets tore through the windows.
Marcus entered with two guards. “The perimeter has been breached.”
“Kane?”
“Missing.”
Declan placed a protective vest around Sarah. An armored evacuation vehicle waited beneath the house, but the attackers controlled the western tunnel.
“We use the old wine cellar exit,” Marcus said.
Sarah clung to Declan’s hand as they descended through smoke-filled corridors. Outside, men shouted and automatic weapons cracked through the rain.
They reached the cellar. Declan opened a hidden steel door behind a wine rack, revealing a narrow passage through the hillside.
Halfway through, Sarah stopped.
Pain crossed her face.
“What is it?” Declan asked.
“Something’s wrong.”
Blood appeared beneath her skirt.
Declan caught her as her knees weakened.
“No. Look at me.”
“I might be losing the baby.”
He lifted her and ran.
The tunnel opened near a wooded road where Marcus had arranged a backup vehicle. Dr. Weaver met them at a private hospital twenty minutes later.
The bleeding came from placental irritation caused by stress and residual toxicity. Weaver ordered complete bed rest.
“Can you save the child?” Declan asked.
“We are doing everything possible.”
Hours passed.
Sarah lay silent, staring at the fetal monitor. Declan sat beside her, his hand resting over hers.
“If the baby doesn’t survive—” she began.
“Do not finish that sentence.”
“We have to be prepared.”
“I have prepared for death my entire life.” His voice weakened. “I was not prepared for this.”
She turned toward him.
Declan lowered his head to their joined hands.
“I did not know I wanted a child until I saw that image,” he admitted. “Now I cannot imagine a world without this one.”
Sarah touched his face.
“You are not your father.”
“I have done terrible things.”
“Yes.”
He met her eyes.
“But terrible men do not usually fear becoming better.”
The monitor continued its steady rhythm.
At sunrise, Weaver entered with cautious relief. The bleeding had stopped. The baby remained stable.
Declan kissed Sarah’s forehead.
His phone vibrated.
May you like
Lydia had sent a location and one message: Vincent moved the attack. He is coming to the hospital.
The hallway lights died.
