Chapter 14 - Pregnant Under Siege
"I don't have the codes!" Reid shouted into the burner phone, sweat dripping down his neck. "Mara changed all the access codes when she took control of the estate!"
"Then you are useless to me," Evelyn said flatly. "Just like your father was."
"Mom, wait!" Reid begged, his voice breaking. "If you do this, they will kill you! There is no escape!"
The line went dead.
Reid stood in his cell, shaking uncontrollably. He looked at the concrete floor, at the cold bars that had held him for two years. For the first time in his miserable life, the fog of his mother's lifelong manipulation evaporated completely, leaving behind a terrifying, crystal-clear realization: Evelyn was a monster who had destroyed every life she had ever touched.
Reid began pounding hysterically on his cell door. "GUARD! GUARD! GET DETECTIVE WALSH ON THE PHONE NOW! MY MOTHER IS GOING TO KILL MY WIFE!"
Inside my master bedroom safe room, the air was thick with tension. I sat on the reinforced leather sofa with my two personal bodyguards, both former Navy SEALs, standing at the reinforced steel door with suppressed rifles drawn.
The security monitors on the wall showed live feeds of my grounds.
Suddenly, three explosions rocked the perimeter walls. Thermal camera feeds showed black-clad figures breaching the gardens, firing silenced automatic weapons into the estate's external security cameras one by one.
The monitors went dark. One. By. One.
"Mrs. Thorne," my chief of security, Marcus, said softly. "They've cut the primary power grid and disabled our backup generators. They're inside the main house."
I pressed my hands firmly against my belly, feeling the twins shifting restlessly inside me, as if they could feel their mother’s heart pounding against her ribs.
"They won't get through this door, Marcus," I said, my voice steady despite the terror raging in my veins. "This door is rated for armor-piercing explosives."
Just then, a voice echoed through the intercom system mounted on the safe room wall.
"Mara..."
It was Evelyn. Her voice was raspy, distorted by the speaker, echoing through the dark, empty hallways of my home.
"Did you really think steel doors could protect you from me?" Evelyn chuckled, a low, terrifying sound. "I built this house, Mara. I bought the land. I know about the air ventilation shafts that feed fresh oxygen into that little bunker of yours."
My eyes widened in terror.
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"Marcus..." I whispered.
"In five minutes," Evelyn’s voice purred over the intercom, "my men will pump three canisters of industrial carbon monoxide directly into your ventilation intake. You will fall asleep softly, my dear. And your Thorne legacy will die in the dark."
