Chapter 2 - The House in the Pines
We left the hospital through an underground service elevator, bypassing the front lobby where Mark’s black luxury sedan had sped away minutes earlier.
Luka’s vehicle was an armored, matte-black SUV. He opened the rear door, where a brand-new, top-of-the-line infant car seat was already installed. He helped me place my daughter inside with a surprisingly gentle touch for a man whose hands were covered in dark dragon and dagger tattoos.
"What's her name?" Luka asked softly, closing the car door carefully so as not to startle her.
"Maya," I whispered, sinking into the leather seat beside her. "Her name is Maya."
"Maya," Luka repeated, a rare, faint smile touching the corner of his lips. "It suits her."
As we drove away from the hospital, rain began to hammer against the reinforced glass windows. Luka navigated through the dark city streets, heading far past the suburban neighborhood where Mark and I had lived, driving deep into the secluded pine forests of the northern hills.
We pulled up to a massive, timber-and-stone estate set back from a winding private road, surrounded by high iron gates and discrete security cameras.
"Welcome to the Pines," Luka said, cutting the engine. "This property is registered under a private shell corporation. Mark Sterling's lawyers can't touch it, and Vance Pharma's security team can't track it."
Inside, the house was warm, smelling of pine wood and fresh lavender. A middle-aged woman with a warm smile introduced herself as Mrs. Gable, the housekeeper, and immediately brought heated blankets, warm broth, and baby supplies.
While Mrs. Gable helped me settle Maya into a crib in the master guest suite, Luka stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the rain-soaked forest, holding a thick manila folder.
"You need rest, Clara," Luka said, turning to face me as I sat on the edge of the plush bed. "But tomorrow, the legal war begins."
"I don't have money for lawyers, Luka," I confessed, my voice trembling. "Mark controlled all our joint accounts. He convinced me to put my inheritance into his firm's investment funds."
Luka walked over and set the manila folder on the coffee table in front of me.
"Mark didn't invest your inheritance, Clara," Luka said flatly. "He used it to pay off Vance Pharma's debts to secure his partnership. But he made one critical mistake."
I looked down at the folder. Printed across the top in bold red ink was: PROJECT M-17: GENETIC STEM CELL RESEARCH — PROPERTY OF DR. ARTHUR MILLER.
"File M-17 isn't just research," Luka explained, his eyes burning with intense coldness. "It’s a patented genetic therapy your father created—a cure for a rare blood disease that Julian Vance’s daughter, Chloe, was diagnosed with six months ago. Mark promised Julian he could deliver the therapy. But to legalise it, he needs the original biological sample."
Luka leaned down, resting his hand on the arm of my chair.
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"The biological sample," Luka revealed, "was preserved inside your baby's umbilical cord blood, which your father secretly registered under Maya’s medical trust before he died."
My breath caught in my throat. Maya wasn't just my daughter. She was the living key to my father's greatest legacy—and the reason my husband had tried to destroy me.
