Chapter 13 - FORTY-EIGHT HOURS
The warehouse gate opened before our van reached it.
That meant someone was expecting us.
Denise grabbed the emergency release on the bassinet restraint.
It did not move.
The mechanism had been locked from the driver’s console.
I held my daughter against my chest instead.
She had begun to cry.
The sound changed something inside me.
Until that moment, fear had filled the van.
After that first thin cry, fear had nowhere to stay.
“Denise.”
She looked at me.
“If the doors open, you take her.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
“You are stronger than I am right now.”
“I am not leaving you.”
“You are leaving with her if you get the chance.”
Denise’s eyes filled, but she nodded.
The van slowed beneath a row of broken warehouse lights.
Marco’s stolen black truck pulled ahead and stopped sideways across the lane.
The transport driver finally looked back through the half-raised partition.
“Stay calm.”
I stared at him.
“You took a postpartum woman and newborn off a court-approved route.”
“Calm is unavailable.”
He looked away.
The van stopped.
Two men approached.
They wore dark jackets and no visible hospital badges.
One carried a tablet.
The other carried an empty infant transport carrier.
My body went cold.
The side door handle moved.
Then every light in the warehouse yard went out.
Darkness swallowed the van.
Someone shouted outside.
A vehicle horn blared.
The driver cursed.
Denise looked at me.
“What happened?”
I did not know.
A second later, the van’s rear doors flew open.
I almost screamed.
Luka stood there.
His face was hard, his breathing controlled, and blood darkened one sleeve near the elbow.
He looked past me to Denise.
“Can she walk?”
“Yes.”
“I can walk,” I snapped.
“Good.”
He reached for the bassinet release with a small emergency tool.
The lock clicked open.
“How did you—”
“Later.”
He pointed behind him.
“Rachel’s car is outside the east gate.”
“Take the baby.”
I handed my daughter to Denise.
The moment my arms were empty, panic nearly broke me.
Luka saw it.
“She stays in your sight.”
I climbed down from the van.
My knees shook.
Pain tore through my body.
Luka kept one hand near my elbow without touching me until I stumbled.
Then he caught me.
“I said I could walk.”
“You are doing a terrible demonstration.”
“Not the time.”
“Agreed.”
We moved behind the van.
The yard was chaos but not the kind I had imagined.
No gunfire.
No dramatic fight.
Only vehicles blocking exits, security lights blinking back on, and men shouting conflicting instructions.
Luka’s actual security team had arrived in two SUVs.
Marco stood near the stolen truck with his hands raised.
He looked furious.
He also looked ashamed.
When he saw Luka, something collapsed in his face.
“Boss.”
Luka walked toward him.
“Do not call me that.”
Marco swallowed.
“I had no choice.”
Luka stopped ten feet away.
“Everyone has a choice.”
“You know what they had.”
“I know what you gave them.”
Marco looked toward me.
“I was not going to hurt her.”
I almost laughed.
“You helped divert a medical transport carrying my newborn.”
“I was told the baby would be held as leverage for twenty minutes.”
The words made me see red.
Luka’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“Held by who?”
Marco looked down.
“Mercer Hale security.”
“Under whose order?”
“I never saw Charles.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Marco hesitated.
“Celeste.”
I felt no surprise.
Only confirmation.
Luka took one step closer.
“Why?”
Marco’s eyes filled with anger.
“They had my daughter.”
The yard went silent around us.
Luka’s expression changed.
“What?”
“She was arrested in Rome last month.”
“Drugs were planted in her apartment.”
“They told me they would make the charge disappear if I gave them one route.”
Luka closed his eyes for a second.
“You should have told me.”
“They said they would move her before you could help.”
“So you gave them Elena.”
Marco looked at me.
“I am sorry.”
I hated him.
I also saw a father in his face.
Those truths could coexist.
“I do not accept your apology.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
Police sirens approached in the distance.
Rachel reached us and immediately wrapped a coat around me.
Marianne was behind her, speaking into two phones at once.
“The transport order has been suspended.”
“No one moves the baby until officers arrive.”
I looked at Luka’s bleeding sleeve.
“What happened to your arm?”
“Glass.”
“From what?”
“Marco disabled my original vehicle before he took the truck.”
“You drove anyway?”
“I borrowed another car.”
“You stole a car?”
“I borrowed it aggressively.”
Despite everything, a breath of laughter escaped me.
Then pain hit again and I doubled over.
Denise immediately stepped in.
“You are going back to a hospital.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Not Moretti Memorial.”
“No argument.”
We ended up at a smaller university hospital with no corporate connection to either family.
The obstetric team examined me.
I had not hemorrhaged.
My blood pressure was ugly but manageable.
My daughter remained healthy.
Those were the only good facts of the night.
At 3:00 a.m., Rachel arrived with worse ones.
“The board audit found Charles moved emergency resolutions after the warehouse incident.”
“What kind?”
“He is calling a special shareholder vote in forty-eight hours.”
“For what?”
“To suspend all M-17 voting rights pending a full fraud review.”
I stared at her.
“Can he do that if I own fifty-one percent?”
“He argues your shares are disputed and cannot vote on their own validity.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
“What happens if he wins?”
“The old board controls the company for at least six months.”
“Long enough to bury evidence.”
“Yes.”
Luka stood near the window with his arm bandaged.
“What do we need?”
Rachel opened a folder.
“The original M-17 registry instrument.”
“I thought Isaac split the file.”
“He did.”
“But the trust amendment references an original identity certification with a physical seal.”
“Where is it?”
“Isaac says Vivian had it eight months ago.”
I looked up.
“Vivian is missing.”
“Yes.”
“Then we find her.”
Luka’s phone buzzed.
He read a message and handed it to me.
It was from Adrian.
I FOUND MY MOTHER.
I called him immediately.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“Do not make me ask twice.”
“A house in Lake Forest.”
“Whose house?”
“My aunt’s old place.”
“Why is she there?”
“She ran after Charles confronted her.”
“About the pathology archive?”
“Yes.”
“Is she hurt?”
“No.”
“Put her on.”
A pause.
Then Vivian’s voice.
“Elena.”
Relief hit me so hard I almost cried.
“Where is the original M-17 seal?”
No greeting.
No accusation.
We were past that.
Vivian went quiet.
“I gave it to Isaac.”
“He says you had it.”
“He gave it back after we photographed the microfilm.”
“Where is it now?”
Another pause.
“I hid it in your house.”
My stomach tightened.
“My house?”
“Your marital house.”
“Why?”
“Because Charles searches his enemies.”
“He does not search what he thinks belongs to his son.”
Luka almost smiled.
Vivian continued.
“It is inside a small brass capsule.”
“Where?”
“Behind the panel in the nursery closet.”
I closed my eyes.
The nursery.
I had painted that room myself.
Adrian had installed the closet shelving while I sat on the floor folding baby clothes.
A secret connected to my identity had been hidden three feet from where we planned to place the crib.
“How do I open it?”
“You need the key.”
“What key?”
“The pendant Isaac gave you when you were a child.”
I touched my throat automatically.
I had not worn the pendant in years.
It was a small silver teardrop with an odd ridged edge.
I kept it in my jewelry box.
At home.
I looked at Luka.
“The pendant.”
He understood.
“Can someone retrieve it under police supervision?”
Rachel was already calling.
The court approved a limited property retrieval by noon.
I was not allowed to go because I remained under observation.
Rachel went with a deputy and a forensic photographer.
Luka stayed with me because, after the warehouse diversion, nobody pretended separation made me safer.
At 1:17 p.m., Rachel video called from my bedroom.
She opened my jewelry box on camera.
Empty.
Every necklace was there except the silver pendant.
My breath stopped.
“Check the safe.”
She did.
Nothing.
“Bathroom drawer.”
Nothing.
“Adrian’s office.”
Nothing.
Then Rachel turned the phone toward the forensic photographer.
He had found a recent security image from the house.
Celeste had entered with Adrian two days before my delivery.
In the image, she was wearing a silver teardrop pendant.
My pendant.
I zoomed in.
There was no mistake.
May you like
The key to the original M-17 file had been hanging around my husband’s mistress’s neck.
And we had less than forty-eight hours to get it back.
