Chapter 169

Chapter 169
Sophia's POV

News travels fast in families like ours. Especially bad news. By early morning, everyone at Sterling Estate knew that Hannah was in labor. I had been vacationing at our winter retreat when the call came, interrupting my fitting for a new Valentino dress that was supposed to be for the annual Sterling Foundation Gala.

"Ms. Miller," the stylist said, adjusting the hemline. "This would be stunning with your emerald necklace."

I barely heard her. My mind was racing with the implications of what my personal assistant had just whispered in my ear. Hannah Lancaster was about to deliver the next Sterling heir.

After dismissing the stylist, I walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the fitting room. Outside, snow blanketed the mountains, pristine and cold, much like the calculated emptiness I felt inside. I pressed my palm against the glass, feeling its chill seep into my skin.

If that baby was born—if it was healthy—Richard's position would be compromised beyond repair. Everything I had worked for, schemed for, suffered William's indifference for... all of it would be for nothing. A baby with Sterling blood would immediately outrank my son in the family hierarchy, no matter how much I had positioned Richard as the stable, sensible alternative to Finn's volatility.

"No," I whispered to my reflection in the window. "No one will take what belongs to Richard. To us."

With a decisive push, I opened the window, letting the winter air rush in. The cold felt clarifying, sharpening my resolve. I needed to act quickly. There were still ways to ensure Hannah's delivery didn't go as smoothly as planned. A few calls to the right people, perhaps an "accident" at the hospital...

The door opened behind me, and I quickly composed my expression into something motherly and warm.

"Mom!" Clara appeared, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "That dress is gorgeous. You should definitely save it for the baby's welcome party. Grandma Victoria will have to acknowledge how fabulous you are!"

I managed a tight smile. "There won't be any welcome party, darling."

Clara tilted her head, confused. "What do you mean? Of course there will be. The whole family is buzzing about it. Even Dad called to say he'll fly back from Tokyo for it."

William was cutting his business trip short? That was unexpected. The man rarely altered his schedule for family matters. This baby was already shifting allegiances, and it wasn't even born yet.

"I have some important calls to make," I said, forcing lightness into my tone. "Why don't you look at the other dresses while I step out?"

I caught my assistant's eye and nodded slightly. She understood immediately, reaching for her phone to start making arrangements. We had contingency plans for situations like this. Plans that would ensure Richard's future remained secure.

As I reached the door, it suddenly burst open. My assistant and I stumbled backward as four men in tactical black clothing pushed their way in. They moved with the efficient precision of professionals, weapons visible beneath their jackets.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, my voice sharp with outrage. Behind me, Clara let out a terrified gasp, scrambling off the sofa where she'd been lounging.

The men wore no identifying marks, but I knew exactly who had sent them. Only one person would dare.

The tallest one stepped forward, removing his sunglasses. I recognized him as Jack, Finn's head of security.

"Ms. Miller," he said calmly, as if we were meeting at a charity function rather than during this home invasion. "We're here to ensure you enjoy your vacation. In fact, we insist you stay right here until Ms. Lancaster has safely delivered her baby."

My blood ran cold. "You're trespassing on private property. Get out before I call security."

Jack smiled thinly. "Your security team is currently enjoying coffee in the guardhouse. They won't be interrupting us."

Two of his men set down large black cases on the coffee table and opened them, revealing sophisticated surveillance equipment and what looked like signal jammers.

Clara moved behind me, gripping my arm. "Mom, what's happening?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

I didn't answer her. My mind was racing, calculating the implications. Finn might be in a hospital room with his precious Hannah, but he was still pulling strings, still one step ahead. I had underestimated him—again.

"This is illegal detention," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "You can't hold us here against our will."

"Think of it as protective custody," Jack replied. "For your own safety, of course." The threat was implicit but clear. He knew what I had been planning. Or at least, he suspected enough to take preventive measures.

I realized I had no choice—for now. With a deliberate show of resignation, I sat down on the sofa and placed my phone on the table.

"Satisfied?" I asked coldly.

"Clara's phone too, please," Jack said, extending his hand.

Clara looked to me, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. I nodded, and she reluctantly surrendered her phone.

"This won't be for long," Jack assured us. "Just until Ms. Lancaster has safely delivered the baby and both mother and child are confirmed to be in good health. Then we'll be on our way."

He glanced around the luxurious suite. "Where's Richard? I expected to find him here with you."

"He turned in early," Clara answered before I could speak. "He had a migraine."

Jack frowned, then spoke quietly into his wrist mic. "Check Richard Sterling's room. Now."

The tension in the room thickened as we waited. One of Jack's men returned a few minutes later, whispering something in his ear. Jack's expression darkened.

"Richard isn't in his room," he announced, his eyes boring into mine. "In fact, he seems to have left the resort entirely."

With a sharp gesture, he pointed to two of his men. "You two stay here. No one leaves. No exceptions." Without another word, he strode toward the door, his movements quick and purposeful. The door slammed behind him as he disappeared into the hallway.

A small, triumphant smile tugged at my lips despite the circumstances. Perhaps I had been outmaneuvered in one respect, but Richard was still in play.