Chapter 8 - THE PRICE OF A BABYMalcolm Price looked nothing like a murderer.
That was the first thing I thought.
He looked like someone's grandfather.
Gray hair.
Expensive glasses.
A navy overcoat.
Calm voice.
No anger.
No wildness.
Just confidence.
Maybe that was worse.
“Step away from the terminal,” he said.
Ethan moved in front of me.
Malcolm sighed.
“You always did inherit Richard's weakness.”
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“You attacked him.”
“He survived.”
“You tried to kill him.”
“If I wanted Richard dead, he'd be dead.”
Victoria stared at Malcolm.
“You threatened Mia's child.”
He smiled.
“I warned you twenty-five years ago that loose ends become expensive.”
I felt Ethan tense.
Malcolm's eyes shifted toward my stomach.
“And now we have a very expensive little loose end.”
Ethan lunged.
One of the armed men raised his weapon.
I grabbed Ethan's jacket.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
Malcolm nodded approvingly.
“Mia is smarter than her father.”
I hated him instantly.
“What do you want?”
“A signature.”
He removed a document from his coat.
“Transfer your Carter trust interest to a holding company.”
“No.”
“In exchange, you walk away.”
“With my mother?”
“Yes.”
“My baby?”
“Yes.”
“Ethan?”
Malcolm glanced at him.
“That depends on Ethan.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“I'm not signing anything.”
“You don't need to.”
Malcolm looked at me.
“She does.”
I stepped closer.
“You killed my father.”
“He was warned.”
My chest burned.
“So that's a yes?”
“I corrected a business problem.”
Victoria whispered, “You monster.”
Malcolm looked amused.
“You've spent decades enjoying the fortune his death protected.”
She had no response.
He was right.
That was the horror of it.
Everyone in the room had benefited from silence except me.
Malcolm placed the documents on a nearby table.
“Sign.”
“No.”
He checked his watch.
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother is no longer in your hotel.”
My blood froze.
“What?”
He smiled.
“Did you really think Anna Reyes' security arrangements could stop professionals?”
Ethan swore.
I pulled out my phone.
No signal underground.
Malcolm continued.
“Lucille is safe for the moment.”
“You said you'd let her go.”
“I said many things.”
I stared at him.
Then at the computer.
The files were still open.
If we could upload them—
Malcolm noticed.
“No network access.”
Of course.
He knew the room.
He had probably designed half its security.
“Sign.”
I moved toward the table.
Ethan looked at me.
“Mia.”
I ignored him.
Malcolm handed me a pen.
My hand shook.
I looked at the transfer agreement.
Then I laughed.
Malcolm frowned.
“Something funny?”
“You made one mistake.”
“What?”
“My father was a software engineer.”
“Yes.”
“And you still think his only backup would be on this server?”
His eyes changed.
Barely.
But I saw it.
Fear.
I pulled the flash drive from my pocket.
The one Ethan had stored in the bank.
Anna had copied everything onto it earlier.
Malcolm's expression hardened.
“Give me that.”
I closed my fist.
“Let my mother go.”
His voice became colder.
“Give me the drive.”
“First her.”
One of the armed men stepped forward.
Ethan moved.
Victoria shouted.
Then everything happened at once.
The lights went out.
Not because Malcolm planned it.
Because Victoria had triggered the emergency shutdown.
Ethan grabbed me.
We ran between server racks.
A gunshot cracked behind us.
Metal sparked.
I screamed.
Ethan pulled me down.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Stay low.”
Another shot.
Then shouting.
Emergency strobes flashed.
Victoria had disappeared.
Malcolm yelled.
“Find the girl!”
The girl.
Not Mia.
Not a person.
An asset.
Ethan pulled open a maintenance door.
We entered a narrow corridor.
I could barely breathe.
He looked at me.
“Can you run?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Stop asking.”
For the first time in days, he almost laughed.
We ran.
The corridor led toward a service stairwell.
Behind us, footsteps.
Ethan stopped.
“Go.”
“No.”
“Mia.”
“I'm not leaving you.”
He looked at me with surprise.
“Don't make it romantic.”
“I wasn't.”
“Good.”
We reached the stairwell.
Victoria was there.
Blood on her sleeve.
I stared.
“Are you hurt?”
“Grazed.”
She held up a keycard.
“Loading dock.”
We descended.
At B1, two security officers entered the stairwell.
Whitmore corporate security.
For one terrible moment, none of us knew whose side they were on.
Then one officer looked at Ethan.
“Mr. Whitmore, your father sent us.”
Richard.
Alive.
We escaped through the loading dock.
Police were already arriving.
Anna had called them after losing contact with us.
Malcolm escaped.
One of his men was arrested.
The other disappeared.
The flash drive remained in my hand.
But when we returned to the hotel, my mother was gone.
Her room had been torn apart.
There was blood on the pillow.
Not much.
Enough.
A phone sat on the bed.
It rang.
I answered.
Malcolm.
“You enjoy games.”
“Where is she?”
“Alive.”
“Let me speak to her.”
A pause.
Then my mother's voice.
“Mia.”
I broke.
“Mom.”
“I'm okay.”
“Where are you?”
Malcolm returned.
“You'll get her back tomorrow.”
“In exchange for what?”
“The drive.”
“No.”
He sighed.
“Then perhaps we test how much loss one family can tolerate.”
The line disconnected.
I turned toward Ethan.
“I need to give him the drive.”
“No.”
“That's my mother.”
“And that drive may be the only reason she's still alive.”
I hated that he was right.
Anna arrived twenty minutes later.
With federal agents.
The case had moved beyond local police.
Corporate fraud.
Kidnapping.
Attempted murder.
Conspiracy.
The FBI took copies of the drive.
For the first time, Malcolm no longer controlled the only evidence.
That changed everything.
By morning, Victoria agreed to cooperate fully.
She confessed to the corporate theft.
The intimidation.
The cover-up.
Not my father's murder.
But enough to destroy her reputation.
Reporters surrounded Whitmore Tower.
Ethan stood beside me in a private conference room.
“You should leave the city.”
“No.”
“Mia.”
“No more running.”
“Malcolm is still out there.”
“So am I.”
He stared at me.
Then nodded.
“You're right.”
A doctor arrived.
Not my doctor.
An FBI medical consultant.
Stress during early pregnancy concerned them.
After an examination, she smiled.
“The pregnancy looks stable.”
I cried when I heard the heartbeat again.
Ethan stood by the door.
He didn't come closer.
He didn't ask.
He just listened.
Afterward, when the doctor left, I found him staring out the window.
His eyes were wet.
I almost looked away.
Then he whispered.
“I heard it.”
I said nothing.
“I know I don't deserve to be part of this.”
“That isn't my decision alone.”
He turned.
“No.”
“It's also about whether you're capable of being a father.”
His face tightened.
“I want to be.”
“Wanting isn't enough.”
“I know.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You humiliated me.”
“I know.”
“You made me feel small because you were afraid money would make me different.”
He swallowed.
“I know.”
“And the whole time, you were the one money had already changed.”
That hit him.
He lowered his head.
“Yes.”
I looked at him for a long time.
“This baby won't grow up around lies.”
“No.”
“If you're involved, there will be no secret accounts, no hidden family deals, no pretending.”
“Okay.”
“And you don't get to buy forgiveness.”
His voice cracked.
“I don't want to.”
For the first time, I believed him a little.
Not enough.
But a little.
Then Anna entered.
“We found Malcolm.”
I stood.
“Where?”
She looked grim.
“He didn't run.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“He checked into Whitmore Grand Hotel under his own name.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“No.”
Anna placed a tablet on the table.
A livestream had started.
Malcolm sat in a hotel suite.
My mother was tied to a chair behind him.
He looked directly into the camera.
“In one hour, Mia Carter will tell America the truth.”
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then Malcolm smiled.
“Or I'll tell them mine.”
