Chapter 3 - THE HOSPITAL SAFE HOUSEThe hospital wing was completely locked down. Because of my father’s rank and the ongoing federal investigation into Julian’s treason charges, two armed guards stood outside my door 24/7.
The ultrasound monitor beeped steadily.
“Heartbeat is strong, 145 beats per minute,” the obstetrician announced with a warm smile. “Your baby girl is a fighter, Mrs. Vance.”
“Sterling,” I corrected immediately, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “My name is Vivienne Sterling.”
“Vivienne Sterling,” the doctor corrected herself softly. “She’s safe. You’re safe.”
After the doctor left, my father sat in the armchair beside my bed, peeling an apple with a small pocket knife—a habit he had whenever he was deep in thought.
“The FBI seized Julian’s private servers,” Dad said, tossing a slice of apple into his mouth. “It’s worse than we thought, Viv. He wasn’t working alone.”
I shifted uncomfortably in the bed. “What do you mean?”
“The black-market ring operating out of the military base involves high-ranking officials. Julian was just the middleman, the glorified paper-pusher making sure the crates went 'missing' during transport.”
“Is that why he married me?” I asked, the painful realization sinking in. “Because of Mom’s trust fund? Because of your influence?”
“He thought marrying my daughter would give him an indestructible shield,” my father explained, his jaw clenching. “He thought if anyone ever questioned his sudden wealth, he could claim it came from your family’s inheritance. And when you started asking questions about the money missing from the trust account...”
“He had to make me look crazy,” I finished the sentence for him. “If I was declared mentally incompetent, he would gain legal guardianship over me, control of the property trust, and control of my entire inheritance.”
“Precisely,” Dad said. “And Beatrice was his enforcer. But they made one crucial mistake.”
“They didn't know I was recording.”
“No,” Dad smiled faintly, a spark of pride in his eyes. “They didn't know you were my daughter. You played the long game, Viv. You survived six months of hell just to gather enough evidence to bury them completely.”
Suddenly, the phone on the nightstand buzzed. It was an unknown, encrypted number.
I looked at my father. He nodded, signaling me to answer while he hit the trace button on his laptop.
I answered and put it on speaker.
“Hello, Vivienne,” a smooth, unfamiliar voice spoke through the receiver. It wasn't Julian. It wasn't Beatrice.
“Who is this?” I asked, my heart beginning to race.
“A friend of your husband's business partners,” the voice replied coolly. “Julian was stupid. He was loud, sloppy, and let his personal cruelty ruin a very profitable arrangement. But you... you have the drive with the ledger files, don't you?”
My breath hitched. The thumb drive I found in the basement safe—the one I handed over to federal agents three hours ago.
“If you know who I am, you know my father is in this room,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
May you like
“The Colonel can’t protect you from what’s coming if that ledger is presented in court, Vivienne,” the voice threatened softly. “Tell the prosecutors the evidence was corrupted. Drop the charges against Julian. Otherwise... hospitals are very vulnerable places for newborn babies.”
The line went dead.
