Chapter 7 - The Desperate Move
My instinct proved tragically correct three days later.
It was a rainy Tuesday night. I was thirty-five weeks pregnant now, and the physical toll of the stress was becoming unbearable. Dr. Hoffman had set up a fully equipped medical suite inside the Caldwell estate to keep me away from public hospitals where Derek’s remaining loyalists might try to reach me.
At midnight, the quiet of the Connecticut countryside was shattered by the sound of glass breaking in the lower conservatory, followed immediately by the blaring shrieks of the estate’s security alarm.
"Victoria! Stay in the panic room!" my father shouted from down the hall, his voice echoed by the sound of raised voices and scuffling boots downstairs.
"Marcus!" I called out, pulling my robe around me as I stepped into the hallway.
Suddenly, the lights across the entire mansion went pitch black. The backup generators hummed, but before they could kick in, two men in tactical gear burst through the double doors at the end of the private residential wing.
Before I could run, a heavy hand grabbed my arm, slamming me back against the wall.
"Don't scream, Mrs. Ashford," a harsh voice growled in my ear.
I looked up in terror through the dim moonlight streaming through the skylight. It wasn't a random intruder. Standing behind the two hired mercenaries was Derek.
He was wearing plain clothes, looking haggard, desperate, and completely unhinged. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw covered in rough stubble.
"Derek..." I gasped, my throat tightening in primal terror. "How... how are you out?"
"Bail reform is a wonderful thing when you still have a few off-grid gold bullion bars saved in a private safe," Derek sneered, stepping closer, his fingers twitching. "Did you really think your old man's billions could keep me in a cage, Tori?"
"You're insane!" I cried out, shielding my belly with both arms. "The police will be here in minutes!"
"The police won't find us," Derek hissed, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back. "We have a helicopter waiting two miles from here. You, me, and our baby are leaving the country tonight. We're going somewhere where the Caldwell name means nothing."
"She isn't going anywhere with you!"
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My father appeared at the end of the hallway, holding a vintage hunting shotgun, his face fixed in absolute determination.
"Put down the gun, old man!" Derek laughed maniacally, pulling a small silver pistol from his jacket and pressing the barrel directly against my temple. "One shot, James! One shot and your precious daughter and your grandchild die right here on your expensive hardwood floor!"
