Chapter 7

The guards marched Danae out into the quiet, brightly lit corridor.

Standing by the nurses' station, looking furious, was Professor Stratford-the head of Danae's medical research fellowship.

Stratford stomped over to her. He shoved a folded white doctor's coat into Danae's chest.

"Put it on," Stratford hissed, his face red. "You are going in there and examining Ms. Webster right now."

Danae pushed the coat back at him. "Absolutely not. I am not participating in this theatrical garbage."

Stratford grabbed her arm, pulling her close. "Adrian Rosario just threatened to pull the NIH federal grant from our lab. If you don't walk through that door, our entire research team is defunded by tomorrow morning. Put the damn coat on."

Danae's jaw clenched. The humiliation burned the back of her throat like battery acid. She thought of the three years of grueling work her team had put into their genetic research.

She snatched the coat from his hands. She shoved her arms into the sleeves.

She walked over to the sanitation station, scrubbing her hands aggressively before snapping a pair of blue latex gloves onto her wrists.

She pushed open the heavy, soundproof door to the VIP suite.

Adrian was sitting on the edge of the massive hospital bed, holding Jordyn's hand with both of his.

When Adrian heard the door, he looked up. His eyes sliced into Danae like shattered glass.

Jordyn was propped up on the pillows. She looked pale, but the corners of her mouth twitched with a smug, victorious satisfaction.

Danae kept her face entirely blank. She walked to the side of the bed and powered on the ultrasound machine.

She grabbed the bottle of clear coupling gel and squirted a generous amount directly onto Jordyn's exposed abdomen.

The gel was freezing. Jordyn gasped, her stomach muscles contracting as she flinched away, pressing closer to Adrian.

"Watch your damn hands," Adrian snapped, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

Danae ignored him. She pressed the transducer wand into Jordyn's skin, sliding it across her lower abdomen.

She stared at the black-and-white static on the monitor.

Danae's eyes narrowed. As a top-tier medical professional, it took her exactly three seconds to read the screen.

The uterine lining was thick, but the gestational sac was highly irregular. The measurements didn't align with a standard second-trimester pregnancy. There was no clear fetal pole, no definitive heartbeat echoing on the doppler. It looked like a blighted ovum, or worse, a medically induced chemical facade.

Jordyn's pregnancy was highly suspicious. It was a setup.

Before Danae could speak, Jordyn let out a loud, dramatic sob, burying her face in her hands.

Danae pulled the wand away. She ripped three paper towels from the dispenser and threw them onto Jordyn's stomach.

"Vitals are stable," Danae said coldly, pulling the wand away and looking directly at Adrian. "But the scan is highly irregular. There is no definitive fetal heartbeat. I suggest a full blood panel before you jump to conclusions."

Adrian stood up. His massive frame blocked out the light from the window. He stepped into Danae's personal space, his chest almost touching hers.

He leaned down, his mouth inches from her ear. "If anything happens to my child," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, "I will bury you."

Danae didn't flinch. She tilted her chin up, her eyes locking onto his.

"You always did like using your money to bully people," she mocked softly.

The air between them crackled, thick with a toxic mixture of absolute hatred and a dark, unresolved tension.

Danae pressed her hands against his chest and shoved him backward. She turned on her heel and walked to the sink to strip off her gloves.