Chapter 1 - The Kick
The first kick landed inches from Emily Whitmore’s unborn son.
Her husband watched it happen.
Then he put his arm around his mistress and said, “Don’t make a scene.”
For one terrible second, the entire maternity hallway went silent.
Emily’s fingers locked around the silver rail beside the elevator.
Pain spread beneath her ribs.
Her baby moved sharply inside her.
She did not scream.
She did not slap Vanessa Cross.
She did not ask Preston why the man who had once cried during their first ultrasound was now standing beside the woman who had just kicked his pregnant wife.
Emily simply breathed.
Once.
Twice.
Then she looked at Preston.
“Did you know she was going to do that?”
Preston’s expression hardened.
“Emily, stop.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Vanessa smoothed the front of her white cashmere coat.
“Oh, please.”
Her cherry-red lips curled into a smile.
“You came here looking for trouble.”
“I came here for my thirty-two-week appointment.”
Vanessa laughed.
Preston glanced toward the nurses’ station.
People were staring now.
That bothered him more than Emily’s pain.
He stepped closer.
“Go home.”
Emily stared at him.
“You watched another woman kick your pregnant wife.”
“I said go home.”
“And if I don’t?”
Preston lowered his voice.
“Then I’ll have security remove you.”
The nurse behind the desk slowly lifted her head.
Emily noticed.
She also noticed the security camera over the elevator.
Good.
Let it record everything.
Vanessa slipped her hand through Preston’s arm.
“This is embarrassing.”
Emily looked down at Vanessa’s hand.
Then at Preston’s wedding ring.
“You’re right,” Emily said.
Vanessa smiled.
Emily finished quietly.
“It is.”
Preston’s face tightened.
Emily reached into her purse.
He rolled his eyes.
“Who are you calling?”
“One person.”
“For what?”
Emily pressed the number.
“For help.”
The call connected before the second ring.
A deep voice answered.
“Em?”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly.
For six years she had refused to make this call.
She had promised herself she would solve her marriage without money, family power, or the Saint Claire name.
That promise had just died under Vanessa’s heel.
“Uncle Raymond,” Emily said.
The nurse behind the desk froze.
Preston frowned.
Vanessa’s smile disappeared.
Emily looked directly at the camera above the elevator.
“I need you on the third floor.”
There was a brief silence.
Then Raymond Saint Claire asked, “Are you hurt?”
Emily looked at Preston.
“Yes.”
The voice on the phone changed.
“Who touched you?”
Emily swallowed.
“Preston’s girlfriend.”
Preston stepped forward.
“Give me the phone.”
Emily moved it away.
Raymond heard him.
“Is Preston there?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
This one was colder.
“Stay where you are.”
The call ended.
Preston gave a short laugh.
“You called your uncle?”
Emily slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Yes.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“And what exactly is Uncle Raymond supposed to do?”
The nurse behind the desk whispered something to another nurse.
Both women looked suddenly nervous.
Preston noticed.
“What?”
Neither answered.
Three minutes later, the double doors at the end of the hallway opened.
Four hospital security officers stepped out first.
Behind them came the chief medical officer.
Then the hospital’s general counsel.
Then two members of the executive board.
And finally, a tall silver-haired man in a dark navy suit.
Raymond Saint Claire.
He walked straight toward Emily.
He did not look at Preston.
He did not look at Vanessa.
He went directly to his niece.
“Where did she kick you?”
Emily touched the side of her abdomen.
Raymond’s jaw tightened.
“Doctor.”
The chief medical officer immediately stepped forward.
“We’ll examine her now.”
Preston finally spoke.
“Raymond, this is a private family matter.”
Raymond slowly turned toward him.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“That stopped being private when your mistress assaulted a pregnant woman inside my hospital.”
Vanessa blinked.
“Your hospital?”
Preston laughed nervously.
“Come on.”
Raymond glanced toward the twelve-foot silver lettering on the glass wall.
WHITMORE-SAINT CLAIRE MEDICAL CENTER.
Then he looked back at Preston.
“You never told her?”
Preston’s face lost color.
Emily felt something cold settle into her chest.
“What didn’t he tell her?”
Raymond’s eyes stayed on Preston.
“That the Whitmores don’t own this hospital.”
Vanessa slowly turned toward Preston.
Raymond continued.
“They haven’t owned controlling interest for eleven years.”
The entire hallway went still.
May you like
Then Raymond said the words that made Preston finally look afraid.
“Emily does.”
