PART 2.
The conversations nearest us were beginning to fade.
Matthias turned back to me.
His voice was lower now.
“Who did you bring?”
I held his gaze.
And then the front doors began to open.
Cold air swept across the marble floor.
Several guests turned.
Matthias slowly looked over his shoulder.
I felt our daughter kick beneath my hand.
And when I saw the figure entering the Dre estate, I knew there was no way Matthias could keep pretending tonight was just another Christmas party.
The man who stepped through the doors was tall, silver-haired, and carrying a black leather briefcase.
His name was Nathan Cole.
My attorney.
For one fraction of a second, Matthias looked confused.
Then he recognized him.
And the blood seemed to drain from his face.
Nathan removed his gloves calmly as a Dre family employee closed the enormous doors behind him.
He did not look like a man arriving at a Christmas party.
No gift.
No smile.
No festive tie.
Just a charcoal suit, polished black shoes, and the expression of someone who had already decided exactly how much he intended to say.
Matthias turned toward me.
“You brought your lawyer?”
I gave him a small smile.
“You brought Fiona.”
His eyes hardened.
“That isn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
Nathan crossed the foyer toward us.
Around us, conversation slowly restarted, though much quieter than before.
Nobody wanted to stare.
Everybody was staring.
When Nathan reached us, he inclined his head.
“Serena.”
“Nathan.”
Then he looked at Matthias.
“Mr.
Dre.”
Matthias’s expression became polite in the way wealthy men become polite when they are furious in public.
“Mr.
Cole.”
“I hope I’m not intruding.”
“You are.”
“Matthias,” I said softly.
His eyes flicked toward me.
That was all it took.
He remembered the room.
The guests.
The board members.
His father standing twenty feet away.
His mother near the Christmas tree.
He forced a smile.
“Of course.
Serena’s guests are always welcome.”
Nathan nodded.
“Good.”
Then he looked down at my stomach.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been standing in heels for forty-seven minutes.”
“Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“Serena.”
That was Nathan.
He had represented trauma surgeons, hospital systems, investment firms, and several people wealthy enough to have buildings named after them.
Yet when he spoke to me lately, he sounded like an older brother who had been given responsibility for someone stubborn.
“I’m fine,” I repeated.
Matthias watched the exchange.
His suspicion deepened.
“What exactly is this about?”
Nathan answered before I could.
“I believe Serena would prefer to discuss that privately.”
“I’m her husband.”
“Yes.”
Nathan let that single word sit between us.
Matthias’s jaw tightened.
Before he could respond, a voice came from behind him.
“Serena?”
Fiona.
Of course.
She approached with one hand wrapped around a champagne flute.
Up close, the necklace looked even more beautiful.
Platinum.
Graduated diamonds.
A teardrop stone at the center.
Forty-two thousand dollars, according to the receipt I had found.
Fiona smiled at me as if nothing about this situation was strange.
“Matthias told me you weren’t feeling well.”
I looked at him.
“Did he?”
His face didn’t move.
Fiona touched the diamonds almost unconsciously.
“I hope you don’t mind me being here.
The acquisition has been consuming everyone.”
“I’m sure it has.”
She smiled.
It was a professional smile.
Perfect teeth.
Perfect lipstick.
Perfect posture.
She was probably expecting anger.
Women like Fiona understood scenes.
They knew how to survive them.
What she did not understand was that she was standing inside a much larger problem.
Nathan looked at the necklace.
Only briefly.
But he noticed.
Then he looked at me.
I saw the question in his eyes.
I answered with the smallest shake of my head.
Not now.
Across the room, Matthias’s father began moving toward us.
Gerald Dre was seventy-one and still possessed the physical presence of a man twenty years younger.
White hair.
Broad shoulders.
Dark tuxedo.
He had founded Dre Development with a borrowed office and two employees.
Four decades later, the company controlled hotels, office towers, residential developments, shipping properties, and enough Connecticut land to make local politicians remember his birthday.
“Serena,” Gerald said warmly.
He kissed my cheek.
Then his eyes moved to Nathan.
“Cole.”
“Mr.
Dre.”
The warmth disappeared.
Gerald knew Nathan.
Interesting.
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
Nathan gave him the faintest smile.
“Neither did I.”
That sentence landed strangely.
Gerald’s expression changed.
Not dramatically.
But I noticed.
So did Nathan.
And suddenly I felt colder than I had when the doors opened.
Matthias noticed too.
“Dad?”
Gerald ignored him.
His eyes remained on Nathan.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was invited.”
“By whom?”
“Me,” I said.
Gerald looked at me.
For the first time that evening, his smile vanished completely.
Then Matthias’s mother appeared.
Evelyn Dre moved gracefully through the crowd wearing emerald silk and enough diamonds of her own to make Fiona’s necklace seem almost modest.
“What is everyone doing in the foyer?”
Nobody answered.
Evelyn looked from Gerald to Nathan.
Then to me.
Then to Fiona.
Her gaze paused on the necklace.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Recognition.
Her champagne glass stopped halfway to her lips.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“Mother,” Matthias said, “this is Fiona Vale.
She’s consulting on—”
“I know who she is.”
Fiona’s smile weakened.
Evelyn looked directly at the necklace again.
Then at her son.
“Matthias.”
One word.
No accusation.
Yet something in his expression told me he understood exactly what she meant.
Before anyone could continue, Nathan leaned toward me.
“We need to talk.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
Matthias immediately stepped closer.
“About what?”
Nathan looked at him.
“Not you.”
That did it.
Matthias’s composure slipped.
“Anything involving my wife involves me.”
I almost laughed.
Fiona looked at the floor.
Evelyn’s eyebrows rose.
Even Gerald seemed momentarily embarrassed for his son.
Nathan remained perfectly calm.
“Then I suggest you make yourself available when she chooses to involve you.”
“Nathan,” I said.
He looked at me.
“Library?”
I nodded.
Matthias stepped in front of us.
“No.”
The word was quiet.
Firm.
The room around us seemed to notice.
Nathan’s expression did not change.
“Excuse me?”
Matthias turned to me.
“Whatever this is, we discuss it together.”
I stared at him.
“You brought the woman you’ve been sleeping with to your family’s Christmas party wearing jewelry you bought for her, and now you’re worried about transparency?”
Silence.
Actual silence.
Not just around us.
Across half the room.
Someone near the piano stopped speaking mid-sentence.
Fiona went pale.
Matthias’s face changed completely.
“Serena—”
“No.”
My voice remained calm.
That surprised even me.
“I’ve been polite for forty-nine minutes.
Don’t push for fifty.”
His eyes burned into mine.
Fiona whispered, “Matthias…”
Evelyn closed her eyes briefly.
Gerald looked as if someone had punched him.
And then a very strange thing happened.
Nathan wasn’t watching Matthias.
He was watching Gerald.
That frightened me.
Because everyone else had just been handed a scandal.
Nathan was looking at my father-in-law as if he were waiting to see whether something more dangerous had been exposed.
“Nathan,” I said.
He immediately turned to me.
“Library.”
We started walking.
Nobody stopped us.
Not even Matthias.
The library was on the east side of the mansion beyond a corridor lined with black-and-white photographs of the Dre family’s history.
Gerald shaking hands with presidents.
Evelyn opening charities.
Matthias graduating from Yale.
Family weddings.
Groundbreakings.
Private jets.
Ski trips.
The photographic biography of people who had never needed to wonder whether money would arrive.
Nathan shut the library doors behind us.
Then he locked them.
That made my pulse jump.
“What happened?”
He put his briefcase on the desk.
“I received another envelope.”
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
“When?”
“Forty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“My office.”
“You were already on your way here.”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
Instead of answering, he opened the briefcase.
A plastic evidence sleeve rested inside.
Nathan lifted it carefully.
One sheet of paper.
Typed.
No letterhead.
No signature.
He placed it on the desk.
I read the first line.
CHANGE OF CONDITIONS.
My skin prickled.
Below that:
PRIMARY EVENT WINDOW REMAINS ACTIVE.
Then:
SUBJECT S.D.
PRESENT ON SITE.
I stared at the initials.
S.D.
Serena Dre.
My hand went automatically to my stomach.
Nathan moved closer.
“There’s more.”
I kept reading.
SUBJECT S.D.
NOT TO BE INCLUDED IN ACCEPTABLE LOSS CATEGORY.
I looked up.
“What?”
Nathan pointed lower.
Underneath was another sentence.
MATERNAL CONDITION REQUIRES EXTRACTION IF CONTINGENCY PHASE IS INITIATED.
My mouth went dry.
Maternal condition.
Pregnancy.
Someone knew.
Someone had classified me differently because I was pregnant.
“Extraction?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does that mean kidnapping?”
“I don’t know.”
“Protection?”
“I don’t know.”
His answers came carefully.
That frightened me more than speculation would have.
Nathan turned the paper over.
There was writing on the back.
Handwritten this time.
Two words.
MIDNIGHT TOAST.
I looked at the grandfather clock near the bookshelves.
10:18 p.m.
One hour and forty-two minutes.
“Nathan.”
“I know.”
“We need to call the police.”
“I already spoke with a federal contact.”
“Federal?”
He nodded.
“The first document included references that made me uncomfortable involving local authorities immediately.”
“What references?”
He hesitated.
That angered me.
“Nathan.”
“You asked me not to frighten you unless necessary.”
“That was three weeks ago.”
“I know.”
“What references?”
He leaned against the desk.
“One of the codes on the original document corresponds to procurement language used by a security contractor Dre Development hired six years ago.”
I stared at him.
“What contractor?”
“Argent Response Group.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Who are they?”
“Private security.
Risk management.
Executive protection.
Overseas operations.”
“Mercenaries?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you thought it.”
Nathan said nothing.
I looked down at the paper.
“Why would a company hired by the Dres have a document describing casualties inside this house?”
“That is the question.”
“Does Gerald know?”
Nathan’s eyes met mine.
“I don’t know.”
I remembered the foyer.
Gerald seeing Nathan.
The surprise.
The tension.
“You know him.”
“I’ve represented people who have negotiated against him.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Nathan exhaled slowly.
“Gerald and I have crossed paths.”
“How?”
“Years ago, before you married Matthias.”
“Nathan.”
“Serena, right now the important thing is getting you out of this house.”
“No.”
His head snapped toward me.
“No?”
“If someone specifically expects me to be here, leaving could trigger whatever they’re planning.”
“Or staying could get you killed.”
“And sixty people?”
His silence answered me.
I stepped closer to the desk.
“You saw the first document.
‘Collateral losses within acceptable parameters.’
Whoever planned this knows there are guests.”
“Yes.”
“They named tonight.”
“Yes.”
“They named me.”
“Yes.”
“Then we don’t run.”
Nathan’s expression hardened.
“You are thirty-two weeks pregnant.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re responsible for two lives.”
“I spent nine years in emergency rooms watching what happens when people panic without information.
We need information.”
“We also need distance.”
A knock hit the library doors.
Three times.
Nathan and I froze.
“Serena?”
Matthias.
Of course.
“Open the door.”
Nathan slid the new document into his briefcase.
I sat in the nearest chair.
My legs suddenly felt weak.
“Serena.”
The handle moved.
Locked.
“What are you doing?”
I looked at Nathan.
“Open it.”
He frowned.
“If he knows something, I need to see his face when I ask.”
Nathan considered me for one second.
Then unlocked the door.
Matthias came in immediately.
He closed it behind him.
His anger filled the room.
“What the hell is going on?”
I looked at him.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Then stand.”
Nathan moved toward the window.
Matthias noticed the briefcase.
“What is this?
Divorce papers?”
I almost smiled.
“You think very highly of yourself.”
His jaw tightened.
“Serena.”
“Do you know a company called Argent Response Group?”
Everything changed.
Not dramatically.
That was the terrifying part.
Matthias simply stopped moving.
His breathing slowed.
His eyes shifted toward Nathan.
And every instinct I had developed in emergency rooms screamed at me.
He knows.
My stomach turned.
“Answer me.”
Matthias looked at Nathan.
“Where did she hear that name?”
I stood.
“You answer me.”
He stared at me.
Then something unexpected happened.
The anger disappeared.
Completely.
He crossed the room, grabbed both my arms gently, and said:
“You need to leave.”
Nathan stepped forward immediately.
“Take your hands off her.”
Matthias released me.
But he did not look away.
“Serena.
Get your coat.
Go home.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
“Why?”
His eyes flicked toward the library door.
“Because you shouldn’t be here.”
My heart began hammering.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew something.”
“I know enough.”
“About tonight?”
His silence lasted too long.
I felt sick.
“How long?”
“Serena—”
“How long have you known?”
He ran a hand across his face.
“Not here.”
Nathan stepped between us slightly.
“You have about thirty seconds before I call people who won’t care about your family name.”
Matthias laughed once.
It had no humor in it.
“You think this is about my family name?”
“Tell me what it’s about.”
Matthias walked to the window.
Outside, snow fell across the rear gardens.
White lights illuminated the trees.
Everything looked peaceful.
Then he said something I never expected.
“Fiona isn’t my mistress.”
I stared at him.
Nathan said nothing.
Matthias turned.
“She isn’t.”
I almost laughed.
“The hotel?”
“Meetings.”
“The dinners?”
“Meetings.”
“The necklace?”
His face tightened.
“That wasn’t from me.”
“I found the receipt in your coat.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“Then explain.”
“I can’t.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“You brought her here on your arm.”
“Because I needed everyone to believe exactly what you believe.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
Matthias stepped toward me.
“The hotel reservation was supposed to be found.”
I stopped breathing.
“The receipts were supposed to be found.”
My hands went cold.
“And the necklace receipt?”
“Yes.”
I thought of the laptop.
The open browser.
The reservation.
All of it.
“You staged an affair.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Matthias looked toward Nathan.
Then back at me.
“Because someone has been monitoring you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Nathan’s expression changed.
“Since when?”
“September.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect us to believe that?”
Matthias ignored him.
He looked only at me.
“I needed anyone watching you to believe our marriage was collapsing.”
“Why?”
“Because if they thought you were emotionally isolated from me, they would stop treating you as part of my decision-making.”
“What decision-making?”
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
And I suddenly understood.
Not everything.
But enough.
“You’re involved.”
His face hardened.
“Not the way you think.”
“The document named you.”
“What document?”
I looked at Nathan.
He gave me the smallest warning glance.
Too late.
“The one describing casualties inside this house.”
Matthias went completely still.
I saw genuine fear.
Not guilt.
Fear.
“Who gave you that?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
He stepped closer.
“Where is it?”
“Safe.”
“Serena, where?”
“Why?”
“Because if they know you have it—”
He stopped.
Nathan moved toward him.
“They?”
Matthias said nothing.
Nathan’s voice sharpened.
“Who are they?”
Before Matthias could answer, music stopped outside.
Abruptly.
Then a voice came through the mansion’s speaker system.
Gerald Dre.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have everyone’s attention?”
Matthias looked toward the door.
His face changed.
“What time is it?”
I looked at the clock.
10:29.
Nathan’s phone vibrated.
He pulled it from his pocket.
Read the screen.
Went pale.
“What?”
He held it toward me.
A message from an unknown number.
ONLY THIRTY MINUTES EARLY.
MIDNIGHT HAS BEEN MOVED.
Beneath it was another line.
GET SERENA TO THE WEST GARDEN.
ALONE.
My pulse roared in my ears.
Matthias read the screen.
Then he whispered:
“Oh, God.”
“What?”
He crossed to the library door.
Locked it again.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“They know Nathan is here.”
“That’s obvious.”
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“They know because Nathan was never supposed to make it here.”
Nathan stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Matthias reached inside his jacket.
Nathan moved instantly.
“Hands where I can see them.”
“I’m not armed.”
Matthias pulled out his phone.
He opened something.
A photograph.
Then held it toward us.
It showed a man standing outside Nathan’s law office.
Timestamped forty-six minutes earlier.
The man was wearing a dark coat.
Nothing remarkable.
Until I looked at his face.
Nathan took the phone.
His expression turned rigid.
“You know him?”
I asked.
Nathan didn’t answer.
“Nathan?”
He handed the phone back to Matthias.
“That’s Thomas Rainer.”
“Who?”
Nathan looked at me.
“He worked for Argent Response.”
My throat tightened.
“Worked?”
“He was declared dead eight months ago.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
From somewhere beyond the library, guests applauded whatever Gerald was saying.
Matthias stepped closer.
“Now do you understand?”
“No,” I whispered.
“I understand nothing.”
He looked at me with an expression I had never seen on my husband’s face.
Desperation.
“My father has been trying to sell Dre Development.”
“What?”
“He started negotiations ten months ago.
Quietly.”
“To whom?”
“A consortium.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know all of them.”
“How can you not know?”
“Because some of the buyers were hidden behind holding companies.”
Nathan swore softly.
Matthias continued.
“I found irregularities.
Properties transferred below market value.
Insurance policies increased.
Security contracts renewed where they shouldn’t have been.”
“What does that have to do with tonight?”
“I thought someone was stealing from the company.”
“And now?”
“Now I think someone has been preparing to destroy it.”
The word hung in the air.
Destroy.
Nathan’s eyes narrowed.
“Financially?”
Matthias looked toward the door.
“I don’t know anymore.”
Gerald’s voice continued through the speakers.
“And tonight, surrounded by friends and family…”
Matthias went pale again.
He unlocked the door.
“No.”
I grabbed his sleeve.
“What?”
“My father never gives speeches this early.”
“So?”
“The toast is always at midnight.”
Midnight toast.
My skin turned cold.
Gerald continued speaking.
“This year has brought extraordinary changes to our family…”
Matthias pulled open the door.
The three of us stepped into the corridor.
Guests were gathering around the central staircase.
Gerald stood halfway up the marble steps.
Evelyn stood below him.
Fiona was near the Christmas tree.
And everyone was holding champagne.
Everyone except Fiona.
She was looking directly at us.
Then she touched the diamond necklace at her throat.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Matthias stopped walking.
“What is she doing?”
I whispered.
His face drained of color.
“That’s a signal.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Suddenly the lights flickered.
Once.
A few guests laughed nervously.
The lights flickered again.
Then went out.
The mansion fell into darkness.
Someone screamed.
Glasses shattered.
People shouted.
I felt Matthias grab my arm.
Nathan caught my other hand.
Emergency lighting switched on, bathing the foyer in dim red.
“West garden,” Nathan said.
“No,” Matthias snapped.
“The message—”
“Exactly.
They want her there.”
A loud bang came from somewhere in the rear of the mansion.
Guests screamed again.
Not a gunshot.
Something heavier.
Mechanical.
Then the fire alarms started.
Doors automatically unlocked throughout the estate.
People rushed toward the exits.
“Everybody stay calm!”
Gerald shouted.
Nobody listened.
I saw Evelyn pushing through the crowd toward us.
Then Fiona appeared beside her.
The necklace was gone.
I stared at her bare throat.
“Where is it?”
Fiona grabbed my wrist.
“We have to move.”
I pulled away.
“Where is the necklace?”
Her expression changed.
“That necklace was never jewelry.”
Before I could ask what she meant, Matthias shoved between us.
“Fiona, what happened?”
“They advanced the timetable.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said your source—”
“My source is dead.”
Nathan stared at her.
“Thomas Rainer?”
Fiona’s eyes widened.
That was answer enough.
Another bang shook the house.
This time, windows rattled.
Then I smelled something.
Faint.
Chemical.
Not smoke.
I had spent years in hospitals.
My brain recognized danger before I could name it.
“Matthias.”
He looked at me.
“The air.”
Nathan inhaled once.
“Gas?”
“I don’t know.”
Fiona’s face changed.
“Ventilation system.”
She turned toward the staircase and screamed:
“Everybody outside!
Now!”
People began running.
Then Gerald reached us.
He grabbed Matthias by the lapels.
“What have you done?”
Matthias shoved his hands away.
“Me?”
“You couldn’t leave it alone.”
“What are you talking about?”
Gerald looked at Fiona.
Then Nathan.
Then me.
When his eyes settled on my stomach, something like horror crossed his face.
“Serena shouldn’t be here.”
I felt the world narrow.
Those exact words.
Matthias had said them.
Now Gerald.
I stared at my father-in-law.
“You knew.”
Gerald’s face hardened.
“No.”
“You knew I wasn’t supposed to be here.”
“Serena—”
“You knew.”
Evelyn arrived behind him.
“Gerald, tell her.”
He turned toward his wife.
“Not now.”
“Tell her!”
Her voice cracked through the foyer.
Gerald stared at her.
Then at me.
And something inside Evelyn finally broke.
“The Christmas party wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Gerald’s face went white.
Matthias whispered, “Mother…”
Evelyn kept looking at me.
“Gerald wanted to cancel it.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
The exact time I received the document.
My knees weakened.
“Why didn’t he?”
“Because someone threatened him.”
Gerald snapped, “Evelyn.”
She ignored him.
“They said if he canceled tonight, they would move against you.”
My blood turned cold.
“Me?”
“And the baby.”
Matthias looked at his father.
“You knew they threatened Serena?”
Gerald shouted, “I was trying to keep her alive!”
The guests nearest us had stopped running.
People were listening now.
Board members.
Attorneys.
Investors.
The entire carefully constructed Dre family image was cracking open beneath emergency lights.
Gerald lowered his voice.
“They wanted everyone important to the company inside one place.”
Nathan stared at him.
“Why?”
Gerald looked toward the ceiling.
Then toward the west hall.
“Because after tonight there won’t be a company.”
“What happens tonight?”
I asked.
His eyes met mine.
Before he could answer, Fiona screamed.
“Down!”
Something shattered above us.
Glass rained from the second-floor balcony.
Matthias pulled me against him.
Nathan covered my head.
People screamed.
Then a small metallic object hit the marble floor.
It rolled.
Stopped.
Every instinct in my body froze.
Fiona ran toward it.
She kicked it beneath a heavy console table.
“Move!”
We ran.
Behind us came a sharp pop.
Smoke flooded the foyer.
Not an explosion.
A canister.
Guests coughed and stumbled toward the doors.
Matthias pulled me through the west corridor.
Nathan followed.
Gerald and Evelyn were behind us.
Fiona brought up the rear.
We reached the doors leading to the west garden.
Matthias stopped.
“No.”
“What?”
“The message told you to come here.”
Nathan looked through the glass.
Snow.
Hedges.
A frozen fountain.
No people.
No movement.
Then a light appeared beyond the hedges.
Blinking.
Three times.
Fiona whispered, “That’s Rainer.”
Nathan stared at her.
“You said he was dead.”
“I said my source was dead.”
“You knew him?”
Fiona looked at Matthias.
Then at me.
“He was the one who recruited me.”
My stomach dropped.
Matthias swore.
“You told me you approached Rainer.”
“I lied.”
“To protect who?”
She looked straight at me.
“Serena.”
Everything stopped.
“What?”
Fiona reached into her dress.
Slowly.
Matthias moved in front of me.
She pulled out a tiny black drive.
It had been hidden beneath the necklace.
“That’s what the diamonds were covering.”
She held it up.
“The necklace was a housing device.”
“For what?”
Nathan asked.
“A biometric key.”
Nathan stared.
Fiona continued.
“Rainer told me the key would open the files proving who authorized tonight.”
“Then why are you carrying it?”
“Because Matthias couldn’t.”
I looked at my husband.
He nodded.
“They search me.”
“Who?”
He looked at his father.
Gerald said nothing.
Matthias repeated:
“Who?”
Gerald’s shoulders seemed to collapse.
And in that moment, he suddenly looked seventy-one.
Not powerful.
Not untouchable.
Old.
Tired.
Terrified.
“I signed the first Argent contract,” he whispered.
Matthias stared.
“What?”
“Six years ago.”
“We know.”
“No.”
Gerald shook his head.
“You don’t.”
He looked at Nathan.
“You remember Damascus.”
Nathan went still.
I turned toward him.
“What is he talking about?”
Nathan’s face had changed.
That frightened me more than anything else.
“Nathan?”
He closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, he looked at me.
“I didn’t meet the Dre family through corporate litigation.”
The floor seemed to move under me.
“Then how?”
He looked at Gerald.
Gerald answered.
“Your attorney used to work for Argent Response.”
I stared at Nathan.
“No.”
He said nothing.
“You told me—”
“I left twelve years ago.”
My heart pounded.
“You knew what that document meant.”
“I suspected.”
“You recognized the codes.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“To keep you alive.”
I laughed once.
A broken sound.
“That seems to be everyone’s favorite excuse tonight.”
Nathan stepped toward me.
“Serena—”
“Don’t.”
Then the west garden doors clicked.
Unlocked.
By themselves.
The blinking light outside stopped.
A phone rang.
Not mine.
Not Matthias’s.
Nathan slowly reached into his pocket.
His phone.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Said nothing.
A distorted voice came through the speaker.
Loud enough for all of us to hear.
“Mr.
Cole.”
Nathan’s face hardened.
“Rainer?”
A soft laugh.
“You still recognize my voice.”
Fiona closed her eyes.
So did Gerald.
The voice continued.
“Open the door.”
Nathan said, “No.”
“Then Serena dies inside.”
My hand closed around Matthias’s arm.
Nathan stared through the glass.
“You won’t touch her.”
Another laugh.
“You still think this is about touching Serena?”
A pause.
Then:
“Ask Gerald who owns the unborn child.”
Nobody moved.
I felt something inside me go completely still.
Matthias whispered:
“What?”
Gerald looked as if he had stopped breathing.
Evelyn covered her mouth.
I stared at my father-in-law.
“Gerald?”
He backed away.
“No.”
My voice shook.
“Who owns what?”
The distorted voice continued through Nathan’s phone.
“Tell her, Gerald.”
Nathan ended the call.
Immediately.
But it was too late.
I looked around the group.
Matthias confused.
Fiona horrified.
Evelyn crying.
Gerald unable to meet my eyes.
Nathan looking like a man watching an old nightmare become real.
Then Evelyn whispered:
“Serena…”
I turned.
Her face was wet with tears.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
She looked at Matthias.
Then at my stomach.
“You were never supposed to become pregnant.”
The sentence hit me harder than anything that had happened that night.
Matthias grabbed his mother’s shoulders.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Evelyn began shaking.
“Your father made an agreement.”
Gerald shouted, “Enough!”
“No!”
Evelyn screamed back.
“Look at her!”
She pointed at me.
“She deserves to know why they want her baby!”
My vision blurred.
Matthias released his mother.
He looked at Gerald.
“What agreement?”
Gerald said nothing.
Then Fiona slowly lifted the black drive.
“There’s one way to find out.”
Nathan stared at it.
“Where does it open?”
Fiona looked toward the second floor.
“Gerald’s study.”
Gerald’s head snapped toward her.
“No.”
And that one word told us everything.
Matthias grabbed his father.
“What’s in your study?”
“Nothing.”
“What’s in the files?”
“Matthias.”
“What did you sign?”
Behind us, something slammed against the west garden doors.
Once.
Everyone froze.
Again.
Harder.
The glass trembled.
We had seconds.
Maybe less.
Nathan grabbed Fiona.
“Study.
Now.”
We ran.
Up the back staircase.
Through smoke.
Past fleeing guests.
My lungs burned.
My daughter moved violently beneath my ribs.
“Stay with me,” Matthias kept saying.
I didn’t know whether he was talking to me or the baby.
We reached Gerald’s study.
Fiona inserted the black drive into a hidden port beneath his desk.
A panel opened behind a painting.
Nathan stared.
Inside was a terminal.
Old-fashioned.
No wireless connection.
Air-gapped.
Fiona inserted the drive.
The screen came alive.
PASSWORD ACCEPTED.
FILES DECRYPTING.
Gerald stood in the doorway.
Defeated.
“I tried to stop it.”
Nobody answered.
Folders appeared.
Contracts.
Payments.
Names.
Dates.
Then one directory.
PROJECT HEIR.
My blood went cold.
Fiona opened it.
Dozens of documents appeared.
Medical files.
Genetic reports.
Photographs.
And then I saw my name.
SERENA MARLOWE.
My maiden name.
I stared at the screen.
The file was dated fourteen years ago.
Fourteen.
Years.
Before I had ever met Matthias.
“No.”
Nobody spoke.
Fiona opened the file.
A photograph appeared.
Me at nineteen years old.
Walking across my university campus.
Another photograph.
Me leaving nursing school.
Another.
Me outside my first hospital job.
My knees nearly gave out.
“They were watching me before I met you.”
I looked at Matthias.
His horror was real.
“I swear I didn’t know.”
Fiona opened another page.
At the top:
GENETIC COMPATIBILITY PROGRAM.
Then:
CANDIDATE S-17.
I touched my stomach.
“What does that mean?”
Nathan moved closer to the screen.
Read.
Stopped.
His face turned pale.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“Nathan.”
He pointed at a paragraph.
I read it.
And every sound in the room disappeared.
The Dre family.
My family.
Argent Response.
None of this had begun with Matthias.
None of it had begun with Gerald.
The project was older.
Much older.
And according to the document, my marriage had not been an accident.
Neither had my pregnancy.
At the bottom of the page was an authorization line.
One signature.
I expected Gerald’s.
It wasn’t his.
I expected Matthias’s.
It wasn’t his either.
I recognized the signature immediately.
Because I had seen it hundreds of times.
Birthday cards.
School permission slips.
Hospital paperwork.
My childhood.
My entire life.
I stared at the name until the letters blurred.
Then whispered:
“That’s my father’s signature.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
My father had been dead for eleven years.
Behind us, Gerald said:
“Serena…”
I turned.
He looked terrified.
Not of the people outside.
Of me.
“What?”
He swallowed.
Then said the sentence that shattered everything I thought I knew about my life.
“Your father isn’t dead.”
READ FULL PART 2:
Source: Stories of Destiny · Thao Thao
