Chapter 4 - The Enemy Behind Our Walls
Lucien trusted very few people.
After the photograph arrived, he trusted even fewer.
The Blackwell estate became a fortress. Guards doubled at every entrance. Electronic signals were blocked around the private wing. Every employee underwent a new background investigation.
I hated the feeling of being watched.
But I hated the possibility of Laya reaching my child more.
Lucien moved his meetings into the house. He slept lightly, waking whenever floorboards shifted in the hallway.
One night, I found him standing beside the bedroom window with a gun in his hand.
“You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“I wake up when you leave the bed.”
He placed the weapon inside a locked drawer.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Talk to me.”
His jaw tightened.
“Someone used one of our stolen vehicles to remove Laya from the clinic. Someone photographed you inside a secured estate. That requires access.”
“You think one of your people betrayed us.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“If I knew, they would already be gone.”
He turned toward the window.
“I rebuilt this family by trusting the right people. If I was wrong—”
“Then we find the person who fooled you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand betrayal.”
He looked at me.
Of course I did.
I had died because I trusted my sister enough to sit across from her at lunch.
Lucien’s investigation focused on three senior employees.
Marcus Hale, head of transportation.
Elena Rossi, the estate’s security coordinator.
And Damian Cross, Lucien’s cousin and closest business partner.
Damian had grown up beside Lucien after the Blackwell massacre. He was charming where Lucien was quiet, reckless where Lucien was controlled.
He loved expensive suits, fast cars, and reminding everyone that the Blackwell family had once ruled half the East Coast.
“You suspect Damian?” I asked.
“I suspect everyone.”
But his voice changed when he said his cousin’s name.
The evidence against Marcus appeared first.
Records showed that his access card had opened the vehicle garage the night the truck disappeared. A search of his apartment uncovered fifty thousand dollars in cash and a photograph of Laya.
Marcus denied everything.
“I’ve never met that woman,” he insisted as guards restrained him. “Someone planted those things.”
Lucien stared at him.
“Who has access to your apartment?”
“No one.”
“That answer will put you in prison.”
“It’s the truth.”
I watched Marcus’s face.
Fear.
Confusion.
Not guilt.
“Wait,” I said.
Lucien glanced toward me.
“Why keep a photograph of Laya?”
Marcus shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“The money could be payment,” I said. “But the photograph serves no purpose except to make us find it.”
Elena agreed.
“Too obvious.”
Lucien ordered Marcus held but not harmed.
That decision saved his life.
Six hours later, someone poisoned the water delivered to the room where he was confined.
The guard carrying it noticed the seal had been broken.
The betrayal reached deeper than one driver.
The next attack came during my prenatal appointment.
We changed vehicles twice and used a private clinic owned by a Blackwell ally. Only six people knew the route.
Halfway there, a delivery truck struck the side of our armored car.
The impact spun us across the intersection.
Lucien covered my body as glass fractured around us.
The driver of the truck fled on foot.
Security captured him three blocks away.
He was not a professional assassin.
He was a desperate father whose daughter required surgery.
Someone had paid the hospital bill in exchange for his cooperation.
“Who hired you?” Lucien demanded.
The man cried.
“I never saw his face. He told me the car was empty. He said it was an insurance scam.”
The instructions had been delivered through a voice-altering application.
But the payment originated from an account connected to a Blackwell shell company.
Damian controlled it.
Lucien confronted his cousin that night.
Damian stood inside the library beneath a portrait of their grandfather.
“You think I tried to kill your wife?”
“I think your account financed the driver.”
“Hundreds of people can move money through those companies.”
“Only twelve without triggering an alert.”
“And you believe I’m one of them?”
“You are.”
Damian laughed bitterly.
“We survived together. I buried my father beside yours.”
“That does not answer the question.”
“No. I did not pay anyone to attack Seraphina.”
“Did you help Laya escape?”
“No.”
“Did you steal the vehicle?”
“No.”
Lucien stepped closer.
“If you lie to me—”
“What? You’ll kill the last man who shares your blood?”
The room went still.
Damian looked at me.
“This began after she entered our family.”
Lucien’s expression hardened.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
“I’m not insulting her. I’m stating a fact. The Vanes ignored us for years. The federal investigators stopped caring. Then you married a Dusk, revealed pieces of our fortune, and began moving operations into legitimate markets.”
“You opposed the changes.”
“I opposed moving too quickly.”
“You said legal business would weaken us.”
“It will expose us.”
“Or it will make men like you unnecessary,” I said.
Damian’s eyes shifted toward me.
There it was.
Not hatred.
Fear.
Lucien saw it too.
Damian had built his identity around the old Blackwell empire. Violence gave him status. Secrecy gave him power.
A legitimate future threatened both.
“You used Laya,” Lucien said.
Damian shook his head. “You’re making a mistake.”
“You found a woman unstable enough to attack Seraphina and desperate enough to blame her.”
“You have no proof.”
“Not yet.”
Damian smiled.
“Then you cannot touch me.”
Lucien’s hand curled into a fist.
I stepped between them.
“Let him leave.”
Both men stared at me.
Damian laughed.
“Your wife just saved your life.”
“No,” I said. “I saved yours.”
His smile disappeared.
“You want us to follow him,” I continued. “You want him frightened enough to contact whoever is helping him.”
Lucien’s anger cooled.
Damian looked toward the door.
For the first time, he realized he had underestimated me.
He left the estate under surveillance.
For two days, he did nothing suspicious.
On the third night, he drove to an abandoned Blackwell warehouse near the river.
Security cameras recorded him entering alone.
Ten minutes later, Laya arrived.
Lucien and I watched the live feed from the estate’s command room.
She wore dark clothing and a hood. Her hair had been cut to her shoulders.
Damian handed her a folder.
Then she kissed him.
The sight answered every question.
Damian had not merely used her.
They were partners.
Audio from a hidden microphone captured their conversation.
“You promised the crash would work,” Laya said.
“The driver failed.”
“Lucien will move her somewhere safer.”
“That is why we need the child born.”
My hand pressed against my stomach.
“What do they want with the baby?” I whispered.
Damian opened the folder.
Inside were hospital schedules, staff photographs, and architectural plans.
“He won’t surrender control for his wife,” Damian said. “But he will surrender everything for his son.”
Laya smiled.
“And after he gives us the company?”
“You get Seraphina.”
My blood turned cold.
Laya touched a knife beneath her coat.
“This time, I won’t make the mistake of dying with her.”
Lucien gave the order.
Blackwell guards stormed the warehouse.
But Damian had anticipated surveillance.
The building exploded seconds after they entered.
Flames filled the camera feed.
Two guards escaped with severe burns.
Damian and Laya vanished through an underground tunnel leading to the river.
They left behind one message painted across the wall.
WE WILL TAKE THE HEIR.
Lucien turned toward me.
“We’re leaving New York tonight.”
“Where?”
“A location no one outside my aunt knows exists.”
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to say I would not run.
Then our baby kicked beneath my hand.
This was no longer about pride.
“All right.”
We departed before dawn.
What we did not know was that Laya had never intended to follow us.
May you like
She knew pregnancy would eventually bring me back to a hospital.
And she was willing to wait.
