Chapter 4 - CHAPTER 3: THE BROTHERS ARRIVE
Before Ryan could take another step toward me, the sound of heavy tires screeching across the driveway echoed through the house.
Two more luxury sedans parked on the grass.
Ethan and Matthew Bennett—my two oldest brothers—walked through the ruined doorway. Ethan, the tech billionaire, wore a dark suit with his tie loosened, his eyes sharp and analytical. Matthew, the investment titan, looked like a hurricane incarnate, his fists clenched at his sides.
Behind them came a team of four private paramedics carrying an emergency stretcher and a medical kit.
"Sophia!" Ethan shouted, rushing straight to my side, completely ignoring the drama in the kitchen. He knelt beside Lucas, taking my icy hand in his. "The paramedics are here, sweetie. You're going to Chicago General right now."
"Ethan..." I sobbed, the adrenaline finally wearing off, leaving me shivering and weak. "I tried to tell him... I begged him..."
"Shh, don't talk," Ethan said softly, his voice breaking as he kissed my forehead. "We know. Gabriel contacted us forty minutes ago. We have everything."
Meanwhile, Matthew Bennett walked directly up to Ryan.
Matthew didn't say a word. He didn't ask questions. He simply delivered a single, thunderous right hook directly to Ryan’s jaw.
The punch lifted Ryan off his feet, sending him crashing into the wooden dining table. Plates and glassware shattered onto the floor as Ryan crumpled into a heap, groaning and clutching his broken jaw.
"Matthew, stop!" I called out weakly from the chair. "Don't... don't ruin your life for him!"
Matthew stood over Ryan, wiping a drop of blood from his knuckles with a silk handkerchief. "He's lucky Gabriel got here first, Sophia. If I had been the one to walk through that door while he had that club in his hand, he wouldn't be breathing."
The paramedics gently moved in around my chair. A female paramedic named Sarah checked my blood pressure while her partner placed a soft neck brace around me and brought a portable ultrasound monitor.
"Mrs. Bennett," Sarah said gently, applying warm gel to my lower abdomen. "I'm going to check on the baby right now. Try to take deep, slow breaths for me."
The room went completely silent. Even Matthew and Gabriel stopped talking, every eye in the room fixed on the small black-and-white screen of the portable ultrasound unit.
For ten agonizing seconds, there was only the static hum of the machine.
Then, a loud, steady, rhythmic sound filled the living room.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
It was the heartbeat. Strong, fast, and unbroken.
Tears spilled over my eyelashes as I stared at the screen, seeing the tiny form of my daughter moving her miniature arms inside me. She was alive. She was safe.
"Heart rate is 145 beats per minute," Sarah announced with a warm smile. "Fetal movement is active. No immediate signs of placental detachment, but we need to transport you to the trauma bay for a full MRI and observation."
"Thank God," Ethan breathed, burying his face in his hands.
As the paramedics lifted me onto the stretcher, Ryan tried to drag himself up from the floor, his face bruised and bleeding from Matthew's punch.
"Sophia... please!" Ryan wheezed through his swollen jaw. "I was tricked! Vanessa gave me drugs... she put something in my drink... I didn't mean to hurt you!"
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I looked down at the man I had loved for four years—the man who had held my hand at our wedding, the man who had promised to cherish me in sickness and health. He looked small, pathetic, and utterly broken.
"I begged you for our baby's life, Ryan," I said, my voice steady despite the pain racking my body. "And you raised a club against her. You will never see me or this child ever again."
