Chapter 3

Four years passed. Four years as Mrs. Sarah Thorne. Life was... comfortable. Luxurious, even. A sprawling penthouse in D.C., staff, every material need met. But it was a gilded cage. Her reliance on the wheelchair was a constant, bitter reminder.

She was now eight months pregnant. Marcus had wanted a child, an heir. She'd agreed. It felt like something she could still do, something to solidify her place.

One late afternoon, Sarah wheeled herself quietly towards Marcus's home office. She was looking for a book she' d left there. The door was slightly ajar. She heard Marcus' s voice, low and urgent, on what sounded like a secure call.

"...the Scylla Syndicate deal was a masterstroke, Johnson. Yes, Walker's incapacitation was regrettable, but a necessary sacrifice. Her mission's failure allowed us to expose their vulnerabilities, which paved the way for the Cerberus acquisition. We consolidated three smaller PMCs because of it. Apex is stronger than ever."

Sarah froze. Her blood turned to ice. Necessary sacrifice? Her legs, her career, traded for a corporate takeover?

Her breath hitched. She pressed closer to the door, heart hammering.

Marcus continued, his tone shifting, becoming almost... tender. "And Jessica will finally have the child she' s always wanted. Kevin, as you know, is infertile. It' s destroyed her, not being able to give him a child, to secure her social standing with his family. This baby... this baby will cement everything for her."

Jessica? Her baby?

"Dr. Evans is a genius," Marcus chuckled, a chilling sound. "The amniotic fluid injections are working perfectly. The genetic markers from Kevin and Jessica are taking. The child will bear enough resemblance. No one will question it. Sarah doesn't suspect a thing about the true purpose of those painful sessions. She thinks it' s for the baby's health."

Painful sessions. Unanesthetized. Dr. Evans, the chief medical officer at the private research facility Marcus owned, the one who oversaw her prenatal care, had told her the weekly amniotic fluid samples and subsequent "vitamin injections" were critical. They burned. Agonized her. She' d cried out, but Evans, under Marcus' s orders, had always been coldly efficient, dismissing her pain.

Sarah felt bile rise in her throat. Her child. Her body. Violated. All for Jessica.

The world tilted. Marcus, her savior, her devoted husband... was a monster.

Her love for him, fragile as it was, shattered into a million icy shards. This wasn' t care. This was a grotesque, long-con.

She backed away silently, her mind reeling, the pieces falling into a horrifying new picture.

Her awakening was brutal. She was a pawn, a vessel. Nothing more.

Her hand went to her swollen belly. Not for Jessica. Never for Jessica.

Later that night, when Marcus was out, Sarah accessed her secure comms device, one she' d kept hidden from her military days. Her fingers, surprisingly steady, typed an encrypted message to David Ramirez, her former Navy SEAL brother-in-arms, now head of Phoenix Solutions, a rival PMC that sometimes, ironically, collaborated with Apex.

"Requesting exfil and a ghost protocol for a high-value asset. Rendezvous in three. Viper."

Three days.