Chapter 2 - The Underground Sanctuary
Arthur didn't take me to a hotel. We drove past the glittering estates of Greenwich, bypassing the Whitmore family compound entirely, and headed toward a secluded, high-security estate tucked deep into the woods near the coastline. Iron gates parted automatically as the Bentley approached.
"Where are we?" I asked, gripping my suitcase.
"Somewhere safe," Arthur said, pouring a glass of sparkling water from the car's built-in cooler and handing it to me. "For eleven years, Margaret Whitmore made you feel like a tenant in your own home. She treated your womb like a corporate boardroom that failed to meet quarterly quotas. My late business partner was Raymond’s father. I watched that family chew people up and spit them out. They value heirs above human life. If Margaret knew you were carrying a Whitmore child, she wouldn't welcome you—she’d lock you in a gilded cage and harvest the baby the moment it was born."
I gasped, spilling a drop of water. "How could you possibly know about—"
May you like
"An old man sees what others ignore," Arthur interrupted softly. "And right now, you need time, space, and a fortress. Welcome to Vance Manor. Consider yourself a guest of honor. No one finds you here unless I permit it."
That night, alone in a magnificent suite overlooking the dark, crashing waves of the Atlantic, I touched my stomach. The nausea rolled in heavy and sudden. I whispered into the quiet dark, realizing for the first time that I wasn't alone anymore. I had three heartbeats pulsing inside me. Three little secrets that would soon shake the foundations of the Whitmore empire.
