Chapter 2

Noah's bedroom door didn't lock.

I stood behind it, my back pressed against the wood, listening to the chaos downstairs. Julian's voice, smooth as bourbon, apologizing to the police. Something about a false alarm. A misunderstanding with the security system.

Then the front door closed. The mansion fell silent.

I looked down at my hand. The cut had stopped bleeding, but the silk napkin was ruined. I peeled it away from my palm and pushed it beneath the tissues in the wastebasket.

My phone buzzed. A message from Julian.

"Coming upstairs. We need to talk."

The door handle turned. Julian stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He was still wearing his dinner jacket, but his tie was loose, his collar unbuttoned. A vein pulsed at his temple.

"Elena," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Whatever you think you saw--"

"I saw everything."

"--you need to calm down. The police were a mistake. I called them off."

I laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound that made him flinch.

"The police, Julian? That's what you're worried about? Not the baby you stole? Not the wife you're planning to bury in a Swiss asylum?"

His jaw tightened.

"You're not well. You haven't been well since the birth."

"I'm perfectly well."

"You're shaking. Your hand is bleeding. You're sitting in the dark, scaring the staff."

"You're going to sign the proxy papers tomorrow," Julian said, stepping closer. His voice was soft now, almost tender. A voice he used when he wanted something.

"You're going to sign them, and then you're going to take a little vacation. For your health. I'll take care of Leo."

"The boy asleep in that bed is Noah, Victoria's son. My Leo is somewhere else."

Julian stopped. His eyes flickered to the small bed, then back to me.

"He is your son. You carried him. You gave birth to him."

"I gave birth to *a* child. Just not that one."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Julian's face didn't change, but something in his eyes shifted. The mask was slipping.

"Who told you?" he asked quietly.

"No one told me. I read your briefcase."

He exhaled slowly. Then he smiled. A cold, patient smile that made my stomach turn.

"You've always been too clever for your own good, Elena. That's what attracted me to you in the first place."

He walked to the window, his back to me, and stared out at the rain-slicked garden.

"But you're forgetting something. Everything you have--the house, the cars, the clothes--it's all mine. The prenup is ironclad. The company is in my name. You signed everything away when you married me."

"I didn't sign my body away."

"No," he said, turning back to face me.

"But you did sign the custody agreement. And if you try to leave, if you try to take Leo, I will have you committed. I have doctors. I have lawyers. I have enough money to make the truth disappear."

He stepped closer. His hand reached out, fingers brushing my cheek.

"Don't fight me on this, Elena. You'll lose."

I held his gaze. I didn't flinch. "You're wrong."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

I stood up, my body inches from his.

"Because while you were downstairs playing host, I was upstairs copying every file on your encrypted drive. The offshore accounts. The DNA tests. The clinical intake forms with my forged signature."

Julian's hand dropped. His face went pale.

"And I already sent them to my attorney."

He lunged for my phone. I stepped back, holding it behind me.

"Don't bother. It's already in the cloud. Three different servers. Two different continents."

Julian's breathing turned ragged. He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. Not his trophy wife. Not his docile, obedient partner.

"You think this is a game?" he hissed.

"You think a divorce lawyer will help you?"

"I don't need help," I said.

"I need the truth. And I already have most of it."

I turned and walked out of Noah's room, my heels clicking against the marble floor. Julian didn't follow.

I walked straight to his study. I opened the safe again. This time, I wasn't looking for hidden files. I was looking for the medical records from my delivery. The ones that would prove who had given birth to which child.

I found them in a manila envelope marked

"CONFIDENTIAL -- LEGAL ONLY."

And my blood ran cold.

The records showed two infants. Noah, Victoria's child, had been brought to my nursery under Leo's name. My biological son had been placed with a couple on Crescent Lane through a fraudulent custody arrangement. Julian had paid them to keep quiet.

I reached for my phone, fingers trembling. I dialed a number I hadn't used in three years. My old head of security. A man Julian had fired because he was loyal to me.

"Mrs. Vanguard?"

"Marcus," I whispered.

"I need a favor."

"Name it."

"There's a house on Crescent Lane. I need you to find out everything you can about the family living there. And I need a car tomorrow morning, after my board meeting."

"Consider it done."

Julian was standing in the doorway.

His face was calm. Too calm. In his hand, he held a syringe.

"I didn't want to do this," he said softly.

"But you're leaving me no choice."

I looked at the syringe. I looked at the man I had married. The man who had stolen my son. The man who had planned to erase me.

"Try it," I said, reaching into my pocket. I pulled out a small, black device and held it up.

"This is a live audio feed. Marcus is listening. If I don't say the safe word in the next thirty seconds, he calls the FBI. And trust me, Julian, they have a lot of questions about your offshore accounts."

Julian's hand shook. The syringe wobbled.

"Thirty seconds,"

I repeated, calm as still water.

"Tick tock."

"You should have picked a dumber wife," I said, pausing at the top of the stairs.

"Goodnight, Julian."

I walked into the guest room and closed the door. This time, I pushed a chair against it.

And I didn't sleep. I sat by the window, staring at the address on the paper, watching the first gray light of dawn creep over the horizon.

Three miles away. My son was three miles away.

And tomorrow, I was going to get him back.