Dr. Harrison stiffened, gave Emily a cautious nod, and stepped out, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.
Julian placed the roses on the bedside table and pulled a plush armchair up to the mattress. He reached out and took Emily’s bandaged hand, stroking the uninjured skin of her wrist. “The doctor told me the good news. Our daughter is safe. You have no idea the weight that lifted from my chest, Emily.”
Emily forced herself not to pull her hand away. Every nerve ending in her body screamed at her to recoil, but her survival instinct kept her motionless. She looked down at his wrist. The cufflinks were gone, replaced by a simple leather watch strap.
“Julian,” Emily said softly, forcing her voice to sound weak, fragile, and submissive. “Victoria… she looked so hateful. She looked like she wanted me to die. Why would my own sister hate me so much?”
Julian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, looking the very picture of an exhausted, devoted partner. “Because she has always lived in your shadow, Emily. When your father died, his will left the voting control of Vance Enterprises to you, with me as your trustee. Victoria got a cash trust, but she squandered half of it in bad European investments. She blames us for her failures. When she saw you today, radiant, pregnant, about to become the undisputed queen of both our families… she simply snapped.”
“Did she… did she say anything else before the police took her away?” Emily asked, watching his micro-expressions.
“Nonsense. Pure, delusional nonsense,” Julian dismissed lightly. “She’s deeply sick, Emily. Don’t burden your mind with the ravings of an unstable woman. I’ve already contacted the best psychiatric team in Switzerland. In forty-eight hours, once the storm blows over, I’m having her transferred to a private sanitarium near Zurich. She will be taken care of, but she will never be allowed near you or our child again.”
*Switzerland.* The word hit Emily like a bucket of ice water. A foreign sanitarium, thousands of miles away, completely isolated, under Julian’s payroll. Once Victoria was placed behind those walls, she would never speak again.
Julian’s phone buzzed sharply against the nightstand. He picked it up, glancing at the caller ID. Emily caught the briefest glimpse of the screen: *CONTRACTOR – ESTATE.*
Julian’s jaw tightened. “Excuse me for a moment, darling. The private security team needs my sign-off on the estate lockdown. Try to sleep.”
He kissed her cheek—his lips felt like cold marble—and walked out into the corridor.
The moment the heavy door sealed shut, Emily pushed herself up on her elbows, ignoring the sharp twinge in her side. She looked at the nightstand. Julian had left his leather coat draped over the back of the visitor’s chair. And in the silence of Room 402, Emily realized that she was no longer a blushing bride waiting for her groom.
She was a mother protecting her child from a predator who was sleeping in her bed.
It was nearly two in the morning when the faint click of the bathroom door woke Emily from a restless, feverish slumber. Her eyes snapped open. The room was bathed in the pale blue glow of the streetlights outside.
A shadowy figure stepped out from the en-suite bathroom, wearing the standard gray scrubs of the hospital’s sanitation staff. Emily opened her mouth to scream, but the figure ripped down their paper surgical mask and raised a finger to their lips.
“Mrs. Sterling—I mean, Miss Emily! Please, don’t scream! It’s me!”
Emily blinked through the darkness. “Elena?”
It was Elena, the young housemaid from Blackwood Castle. But she looked terrified. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of an oversized maintenance jacket. She crept toward the bed on tiptoes, constantly watching the frosted glass panel on the door.
“Elena, what are you doing here? How did you get into this wing?” Emily whispered, her heart racing.
“I have a cousin who works on the night janitorial crew here,” Elena breathed, leaning close over the bed rail. “Miss Emily, you have to listen to me. They fired me. Julian’s head of security fired me the moment the ambulance left the castle. They threatened to revoke my mother’s visa if I spoke to any journalists. But before they threw me off the property, I went back to the bridal suite to get my belongings.”
Elena reached into the lining of her jacket and pulled out a thick, leather-bound volume wrapped in plastic. The edges were worn, and the brass clasp had been forcibly pried open.
“I found this in Victoria’s overnight bag,” Elena said, thrusting it into Emily’s hands. “Victoria didn’t come to your suite to kill you today, Miss Emily. She came to stop the wedding. She was looking for this before you walked into the room.”
