Chapter 3

The elevator slowed, the sudden deceleration making Allegra's stomach drop. The doors slid open to the hospital's main lobby.

Four men in identical black suits immediately stepped forward, forming a tight semicircle around the elevator doors. Kyler's private security.

A second later, the adjacent elevator chimed. Kyler marched out, his face like thunder. He had used his override key to follow her down.

Allegra's grip on the scissors tightened until her fingers went numb.

We can't fight four armed gorillas, Mom, Rosalie's voice sighed. Time to play dumb.

Kyler stopped in front of the wheelchair. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out his phone to call his medical team. He moved too fast.

A folded piece of crisp white paper slipped from his pocket and fluttered to the polished floor tiles.

Allegra's eyes darted down. The bold, red text at the top of the document burned into her retinas: Urgent Extradition & Transfer Protocol - Neonatal ICU. It had no hospital header.

She pushed the wheelchair forward half an inch, trapping the paper beneath her bare, bloody heel.

"Did you see that? It's a transfer order to a private lab! Oh, and by the way, your premature labor wasn't an accident. I tasted the bitter powder in your prenatal vitamins!"

The metallic taste of blood rushed back into Allegra's mouth. Murder. Someone had tampered with her vitamins. Could it really be Kyler? The man who held her while she cried? Her mind violently rejected the thought, spiraling into a chaotic vortex of denial and terror.

She bit down on the soft flesh inside her cheek, tearing the skin, using the sharp physical pain to anchor herself to reality. If she lost control now, she was dead.

Kyler dialed a number, his voice devoid of emotion. "Bring the sedatives down to the lobby. My wife needs to rest."

Allegra opened her hand. The surgical scissors clattered loudly against the floor.

She threw both hands over her face and let out a guttural, agonizing wail. Her whole body convulsed. She sobbed, the sound echoing off the high ceiling, raw and broken.

"I'm sorry!" she choked out, her words slurring with fake hysteria. "I'm so sorry, Kyler! I was just so scared! She was still warm, I swear she was..."

The sight of her completely shattered, weeping uncontrollably, worked like a drug on Kyler. His massive ego fed on her submission. The tension drained from his shoulders.

He ended the call and slipped the phone away. A look of supreme, condescending pity washed over his face.

He bent down and wrapped his arms around Allegra, pulling her and the baby against his chest. He stroked her hair, reveling in the return of his power.

Allegra pressed her face into his expensive lapel. The scent of Candice's floral perfume clung to the fabric. It made her want to vomit, but her eyes, hidden against his chest, were dry and dead.

The bodyguards parted. Kyler pushed the wheelchair toward the underground parking garage. A black Maybach idled near the VIP exit.

Gus, Kyler's personal driver, stood by the open rear door. He wore white gloves. His dark eyes flicked to the blood on Allegra's gown for a fraction of a second.

Don't look at the driver, Rosalie warned. He's Kyler's bagman for the cartel. He's got bodies on him.

Allegra closed her eyes, playing the exhausted victim, and let Kyler lift her from the chair and place her onto the soft leather seat of the Maybach.

The heavy door slammed shut, sealing them inside. The cabin smelled of rich leather and the coppery tang of Allegra's blood.

Kyler reached across the seat, his fingers pulling at the edge of the blanket. "Let me see her, Allegra. I need to confirm..."

Allegra shrank back against the door, clutching the bundle to her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Please," she whimpered, her voice trembling perfectly. "Let me hold her for one night. Just tonight. Tomorrow... tomorrow I'll let them take her. Please, Kyler."

Kyler stared at her pale, pathetic face. He knew the baby was dead. The stem cells would remain viable in the cold body for another twenty-four hours. And in his penthouse, she was trapped. He could afford to play the benevolent husband.

He slowly pulled his hand back. "Alright. One night."

The Maybach pulled out of the garage and merged into the heavy traffic of Fifth Avenue.

Allegra turned her head, watching the blurred neon lights of Manhattan slide across the tinted glass. Beneath the blanket, her thumb stroked her daughter's warm cheek. I am going to find out the truth, she vowed silently, her heart breaking into a thousand jagged pieces.

The car descended into the private garage of their penthouse building. The nightmare was only just beginning.