—–PART 2—–

The clinic door burst open as two nurses rushed in with a wheelchair and a fetal monitor, their faces tense with the kind of urgent efficiency that made my fingers turn ice cold .

Marcus looked at the standard-issue hospital wheelchair as if it had personally insulted him . "Where exactly are you taking her?" he demanded, his voice dropping into that dangerous, commanding register that usually made grown men tremble .

"Northwestern Hospital," Dr. Miller answered without missing a beat. "Labor and delivery triage. She needs continuous fetal monitoring right now" .

"I'll drive her myself," Marcus stated, already reaching into his tailored suit jacket for his keys .

"No," I said immediately, my voice echoing off the sterile white walls .

His dark eyes snapped to mine, flashing with a mix of wounded pride and raw panic . The entire room fell dead silent, filled only with the hum of medical machines and the sound of my own ragged breathing . I hated that my hands were visibly shaking. I hated that the very first time my ex-husband saw our unborn daughter, sheer terror had arrived right alongside him .

"You do not get to take over my life again," I told him, gripping the paper sheet on the exam table .

For a split second, something old and terrifying flashed across his handsome face. It was the Marcus who gave orders before anyone else dared to draw a breath, the ruthless billionaire who could turn a whisper into a command and a boardroom into a battlefield . But then, incredibly, he swallowed it down .

"I won't," he said, his voice lowering to a rough whisper. "But I am not leaving you. Not today" .

A nurse helped me sit up, but as I moved, a sharp cramp pulled deep across my lower stomach . It was sudden and breathless. I tried to hide it, but Marcus’s eyes tracked my every movement. He saw my knuckles turn white as my fingers clenched the paper sheet .

His jaw tightened so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. "You're in pain" .

"I'm eight months pregnant," I gasped out. "Pain is a lifestyle at this point" .

"She needs to go right now," Dr. Miller interrupted urgently .

Marcus stepped aside, but he didn't step away . He walked tightly beside the wheelchair as the nurses pushed me down the long fluorescent corridor . His massive bodyguards moved right behind us, casting long shadows . Other patients in the waiting area stared openly; one woman holding a toddler clearly recognized the city's most notorious billionaire and immediately averted her eyes to the floor in fear .

When we reached the back staff exit, Dr. Miller suddenly froze. She pulled back the blinds just an inch, peering out into the gray, wet Chicago afternoon .

"There's an ambulance waiting by the curb," Dr. Miller said, her voice tight. "But I didn't call one yet" .

The silence that followed turned instantly poisonous . Marcus’s head lifted slowly, his eyes narrowing into lethal slits . One of the clinic nurses looked confused and stammered, "They said your security requested it, Mr. Vance" .

"I didn't," Marcus said . His voice was horrifyingly quiet .

Dr. Miller's face hardened as she looked out the window again. "There are two men standing by the vehicle. No medical uniforms. No hospital markings on the rig except cheap magnetic decals" .

Marcus’s hand instinctively found mine, his grip iron-clad but trembling. "Listen to me," he whispered urgently. "Someone knew you were here" .

My mouth went completely dry. "No one knew. I hid every appointment" .

"Someone always knows," he replied grimly .

A bitter, hysterical laugh escaped my throat. "That is exactly why I ran from you!" .

Pain flashed across his features, but he didn't try to defend himself . Instead, he slowly turned to his head of security, David, who was standing stiffly in the corner of the hallway . David hesitated for less than a second, but Marcus saw it. And so did I .

"David," Marcus said softly, his tone laced with absolute betrayal. "Who told them?" .

David’s hand immediately darted toward the inside of his jacket . But Marcus moved faster than I could process. He seized David’s wrist, twisting it violently and slamming the massive man against the concrete wall . A heavy black pistol clattered onto the linoleum floor . The nurses screamed in terror . Dr. Miller bravely shoved my wheelchair between us and the heavy fire door, as if she could shield my pregnant belly with pure stubbornness .

David’s face twisted into an ugly sneer through the blood on his lip. "You should have left her divorced and gone, Marcus. You made us weak" .

"Who sent you?" Marcus demanded, his forearm pressing against the traitor's throat .

David smiled darkly. "Your mother" .

My heart plunged straight into my stomach. Victoria Vance. The matriarch of the family, a woman whose cruelty was legendary.

Marcus struck David once, a clean, brutal blow that sent the security chief collapsing unconsciously to the floor . Then, the monster Chicago feared turned back to me, breathing heavily, with betrayal painting his knuckles and absolute terror living in his eyes .

"I need you to trust me for exactly ten minutes," Marcus pleaded .

I wanted to scream that trust was exactly what he had completely destroyed . But the baby kicked weakly against the fetal monitor strapped to my waist . For the sake of my unborn daughter, I nodded .

Dr. Miller unlocked a dingy maintenance exit that smelled of bleach . Outside in the alley, a plain, unassuming gray florist van was idling .

"A florist van?" I asked breathlessly .

Dr. Miller gave me a tight, grim smile. "No one shoots at lilies" .

Marcus helped me inside with an unbearable, agonizing gentleness . His large hands supported my lower back, my elbow, and the heavy weight of my belly as if I were something incredibly sacred and completely breakable . I laid across the back seat with Dr. Miller beside me, watching the portable monitor closely, while Marcus sat facing the rear windows, his gun drawn and hidden beneath his expensive coat .

The van violently lurched into Chicago traffic. For five agonizing blocks, nothing happened. Then, Dr. Miller whispered, "Black SUV. Two cars back" .

Marcus didn't even turn around. "I know" .

The driver took a dangerously hard right turn, tires screaming against the wet asphalt . A massive contraction ripped through my body, forcing a scream from my lungs .

"Contraction?" Dr. Miller asked frantically .

"I don't know!" my voice cracked in panic. "Maybe. It's too early!" .

"Not dangerously early," the doctor reassured me, gripping my hand. "But today is definitely not the day we want surprises" .

The van swerved violently under the metal tracks of the Chicago L train, the thunderous noise rolling above us like an earthquake . The black SUV followed relentlessly, closing the distance .

Marcus barked orders into his burner phone. "Block Cermak Road. Burn every route behind us" .

I glared at him through the blinding pain. "You said no ordering people around!" .

He looked at me, and despite the absolute nightmare we were in, his mouth almost curved into a smile. "I meant in the doctor's office. I'm trying not to let anyone kidnap my pregnant ex-wife" .

"Ex-wife," I repeated bitterly. The word landed between us in the cramped van like shattered glass . His face instantly fell .

The driver suddenly killed the headlights and coasted the van into a dark, underground parking garage, hiding behind a row of thick concrete pillars . Above us, we could hear the black SUV roar past the entrance on the street .

For a moment, the only sound was the rapid, terrifying thumping of our baby's heartbeat on the monitor .

Then, Marcus Vance—the untouchable billionaire—slid off his seat and dropped to his knees right there on the dirty, oil-stained floorboards of the florist van . He buried his face in his hands . I had never seen him look so broken. Not after corporate threats, not after shootings, not ever .

"I divorced you because my mother put a contract on your life," he confessed, his voice shattering in the darkness .

All the air violently left my lungs . Dr. Miller completely looked away, pretending to check the medical bag, giving us privacy .

Marcus lifted his head, his dark eyes shining with unshed tears. "She said you made me weak. She said our enemies would use you against me. I thought if I cut you loose publicly, if I made the divorce papers cruel enough, they would stop watching you" .

"You thought?" I whispered, fresh tears burning my eyes .

"I was wrong," he choked out .

"Wrong? You sent legal papers through a lawyer!" My voice rose into a desperate cry. "You let me think I had imagined every good thing between us! You let me cry myself sick for months! You let me go through this pregnancy completely alone!" .

His composure utterly shattered. "I didn't know about the baby," he sobbed, the words tearing out of his throat like they had jagged teeth. "God help me, I didn't know" .

The baby kicked hard against my ribs, right on cue .

Marcus let out a shaky, devastated breath. "She has opinions" .

"She's furious with you too," I wept .

"I deserve that," he whispered, bowing his head . "I signed those papers to make you invisible. But I never stopped loving you. Not for a single second" .

Suddenly, the van door was yanked open from the outside .

A man in a sleek dark coat stood in the dim garage light. I recognized him instantly. It was Arthur, the Vance family’s ruthless corporate attorney . The same man who had delivered my divorce papers with a silver pen and zero empathy .

Arthur smiled a chilling, corporate smile. "Hello, Mrs. Vance," he said smoothly. "Or should I say, widow?" .

Marcus spun around so fast he was a blur .

Arthur just lifted both his hands in mock surrender. "Careful, Marcus. Your mother wants the child alive" .

My blood turned to absolute ice. "And me?" I managed to ask .

Arthur's smile simply widened into something monstrous .

Marcus stepped directly in front of me, his gun raised. Arthur sighed dramatically. "You always did love the wrong people, Marcus" .

Then, every single light in the underground garage went pitch black .

Dr. Sloan grabbed my shoulders and violently pulled me down to the floorboards . Marcus fired his weapon into the dark . The deafening sound exploded through the concrete garage, followed by men screaming, glass shattering everywhere, and the awful squeal of tires .

I curled tightly around my massive belly, one hand desperately pressing the monitor strap to my skin, whispering into the dark, "Stay with me. Please stay with me, baby" .