Chapter 7 - War of the Caldwells
"Over my dead body," Ethan hissed, his voice dropping into a tone so terrifyingly cold that even Marcus took a step back.
He spun around to face Hannah, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitched in his cheek. The realization hit him with the force of a tidal wave: if CPS got involved, his mother—Victoria Caldwell—would find out within ten minutes. And Victoria had more than enough legal firepower and political influence to strip Hannah of her parental rights permanently, locking the twins away in the Caldwell dynasty while leaving Hannah broken and helpless.
"Get dressed," Ethan ordered sharply, pulling a set of clothes from the hospital bag on the chair.
Hannah stared at him in utter bewilderment. "Are you out of your mind? I just had major abdominal surgery twelve hours ago! I can barely stand up!"
"I am a senior attending surgeon at this hospital, and I am officially discharging you against medical advice," Ethan said, his tone absolute and non-negotiable as he ripped the IV needle cleanly out of the back of her hand, pressing a gauze pad over the site. "If you stay here, my mother's lawyers and CPS will take your children before you can even hold them. We are leaving right now."
"And where are we going?" Hannah demanded, clutching the hospital gown to her chest. "I don't have a home, Ethan! My apartment lease was canceled when I missed rent last week, and all my things are sitting in a storage locker in Cicero that I can't afford!"
Ethan stopped, looking down at her with a heavy, resolute expression that brooked no argument.
"You're coming home with me."
Thirty minutes later, wrapped in an oversized designer cashmere coat that Ethan had shoved over her hospital gown, Hannah was wheeled out through the back service elevator of St. Catherine’s Medical Center. They slipped past the front desk just as a clipboard-toting social worker stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor, entirely unaware that the high-profile targets of her investigation had just vanished into the Chicago night.
The rain had cleared, leaving the city streets slick and gleaming under the harsh amber glow of streetlights. Ethan bundled her into the passenger seat of his black Mercedes SUV, driving with white-knuckled intensity through the sprawling, glittering expanse of the city until they crossed the private iron security gates of the Caldwell family estate in the wealthy northern suburbs.
Hannah stared out the window as the car wound up the long, tree-lined driveway toward the sprawling limestone mansion that looked like a modern European castle. A cold knot twisted in her stomach.
"Ethan... what are we doing here?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Your mother lives here. If she finds out I'm under her roof—"
"She won't find out," Ethan cut in, killing the engine and turning to look at her with dark, blazing eyes. He reached across the console, his warm hand gently cupping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "My mother thinks I'm up at the downtown hospital pulling a twenty-four-hour shift. This house has a private guest wing with its own security entrance and a fully equipped medical suite that my father installed before he passed away."
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He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, fierce whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.
"You and the twins are safe here. No one touches my family. Not CPS, and certainly not my mother."
