Chapter 19 Chapter 19
~NINETEEN~
My heart stopped. After everything we'd been through—Victoria's attack, Linda's kidnapping, all the threatening messages—I'd started to believe we were finally safe.
I was wrong.
"Declan," I whispered urgently, shaking him awake. "Someone's at the window."
He was instantly alert, reaching for his phone to call 911 while simultaneously moving to position himself between me and the window.
The security system should have gone off. Why wasn't it blaring?
The window lock clicked open, and I watched in horror as it began to slide upward.
Declan grabbed a baseball bat he'd started keeping beside the bed and raised it, ready to defend us.
A figure climbed through the window—dark clothes, hood pulled up, face obscured.
"Get out of our house!" Declan shouted, his finger on the phone ready to dial.
The figure held up their hands in surrender. "Wait! Please, don't call the police. It's me."
The voice was familiar. The figure pulled back their hood.
It was Jake.
"What the hell are you doing breaking into our house?" Declan demanded, though he lowered the bat slightly.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Jake said quickly. "But someone tampered with your security system. I couldn't get through the front door without triggering a silent alarm that doesn't go to the police—it goes somewhere else."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, sitting up in bed.
"I've been investigating," Jake said, moving away from the window with his hands still visible. "After my mother died, after everything that happened, I couldn't just walk away. I needed to understand why she became the person she was, what drove her to such extremes."
"And?" Declan prompted.
"And I found something. Something that connects Victoria, my mother, Richard Harris, and someone else. Someone you don't know about yet."
"Jake, if this is some kind of game—" Declan started.
"It's not a game," Jake interrupted desperately. "I'm risking everything by being here. But Anita, I owe you this. After everything I put you through, I owe you the truth."
"What truth?" I asked.
Jake pulled out his phone and showed us a series of documents and photos. "My mother's death wasn't random. Victoria didn't just happen to kill her. They were both being manipulated by someone else—someone who wanted them to destroy each other, to destroy you and Declan."
"Who?" Declan asked.
"Your father's former business partner," Jake said. "Marcus Winters."
Declan went pale. "Marcus Winters is dead. He died in a car accident five years ago."
"That's what everyone thinks," Jake said. "But he faked his death. I have proof—bank records showing deposits being made to his accounts, property records showing he owns homes under different names, photographs of him taken last month."
He showed us the photos. They showed an older man with gray hair, but the face was unmistakable—it was Marcus Winters.
"Why would he fake his death?" I asked.
"Because your father discovered that Marcus had been embezzling from Norex for years," Jake explained, looking at Declan. "Marcus knew he was about to be exposed, about to lose everything. So he faked his death and disappeared with millions of dollars."
"But why come back now?" Declan asked. "Why target us?"
"Because you," Jake pointed at Declan, "became successful. You took over Norex and turned it into something even bigger than your father had. Marcus has been watching, growing more bitter and angry. He thinks Norex should have been his. He thinks your father betrayed him."
"So he what? Manipulated Victoria and Patricia?" I asked.
"And Richard," Jake said. "Marcus was feeding information to Richard about the inheritance clause, encouraging him to move against you. He was the one who suggested to Victoria that she should fight for you. He was the one who told my mother that you were the enemy."
"How do you know all this?" Declan asked suspiciously.
"Because Marcus approached me," Jake said. "A few weeks after I left town. He found me, told me he knew about you and Anita, and offered me money to help him destroy you. A lot of money."
"And you said no?" I asked, surprised.
"I told him I'd think about it," Jake admitted. "I wanted to know what he was planning. So I pretended to go along with it, and he told me everything. His whole plan."
"Which is?" Declan prompted.
"To take everything from you, piece by piece," Jake said. "Your company, your reputation, your relationship, and ultimately, your life. He's been patient, working from the shadows, using other people as pawns. But now he's running out of patience."
"Why are you telling us this?" I asked. "You could have just taken his money and disappeared."
Jake looked at me with something like regret. "Because despite everything, I'm not that person anymore. And because you're right—you deserve better. You both do. And those babies you're carrying? They deserve to grow up with parents who are alive and safe."
"Where is Marcus now?" Declan asked.
"That's the problem," Jake said. "I don't know. He moves around constantly, never staying in one place for long. But I do know he's planning something big. Something soon. He told me to wait for his signal, that he'd contact me when it was time."
"Time for what?" I asked, fear creeping into my voice.
"I don't know exactly," Jake admitted. "But whatever it is, it's going to happen in the next few days. He said something about 'finishing what should have been done years ago.'"
Declan immediately called Detective Morrison and Agent Collins. Within thirty minutes, our house was once again filled with law enforcement.
Jake told them everything he'd told us. The FBI agents looked skeptical at first—the idea that Marcus Winters had faked his death sounded far-fetched—but the evidence Jake had collected was compelling.
"If this is true," Agent Collins said slowly, "then we're dealing with someone who's been planning this for five years. Someone patient, intelligent, and very dangerous."
"We need to find him before he makes his move," Detective Morrison said.
"How?" I asked. "If he's been hiding for five years, he's clearly good at not being found."
"Jake, when did Marcus last contact you?" Agent Collins asked.
"Three days ago," Jake said. "He called a burner phone he gave me. Said he'd call again soon with instructions."
"Do you still have that phone?"
Jake pulled it from his pocket. "Yes, but I haven't heard from him since."
The FBI took the phone to try to trace previous calls and see if they could use it to locate Marcus.
As the sun rose, Declan and I sat together in our bedroom, exhausted and overwhelmed.
"This is never going to end, is it?" I asked quietly.
"It will end," Declan said firmly. "When Marcus Winters is in custody and can't hurt anyone anymore."
"And if they can't find him?"
"Then we'll deal with that when it happens," Declan said. "But Anita, I promise you, I will protect you and our babies no matter what it takes."
Dr. Chen arrived to check on me—apparently Sarah had called her after hearing about Jake's break-in and the Marcus Winters revelation.
"Your blood pressure is through the roof," Dr. Chen said after examining me. "And you're having contractions again."
"Can you stop them?" I asked, terrified.
"I'll try," she said, preparing medication. "But Miss Blake, you need to understand something. Your body is under incredible stress. At some point, if the stress continues, your body may decide it's safer to deliver these babies than to keep them inside."
"I'm only twenty-seven weeks," I said, tears filling my eyes. "They need more time."
"I know," Dr. Chen said gently. "That's why we're going to do everything possible to buy them that time. But you need to find a way to reduce your stress level."
"How am I supposed to do that when there's a psychopath out there trying to kill us?" I asked.
"I don't have an answer for that," Dr. Chen admitted. "I wish I did."
Over the next forty-eight hours, the FBI worked tirelessly to track down Marcus Winters. They found several properties registered under various aliases, but all of them were empty. They tracked financial transactions, but they all led to dead ends. They interviewed people who'd known Marcus before his supposed death, but no one had seen him in years.
It was like chasing a ghost.
The burner phone Jake had stayed silent.
"He knows something's wrong," Jake said on the second day. "He can sense when plans are falling apart. He won't contact me now."
"So we've lost our only lead," Detective Morrison said grimly.
I was lying in bed, feeling the babies move inside me, when I had a thought.
"What if we draw him out?" I suggested.
Everyone turned to look at me.
"How?" Agent Collins asked.
"He wants to destroy Declan," I said slowly, working through the idea. "He wants to take everything that should have been his. So what if we give him the opportunity?"
"Anita, what are you suggesting?" Declan asked warily.
"We announce that you're stepping down from Norex again," I said. "Make it look like all the stress has gotten to you, that you're giving up. Marcus might come out of hiding to gloat, to claim what he thinks should be his."
"That's incredibly risky," Detective Morrison said. "We'd be putting you in danger."
"I'm already in danger," I pointed out. "At least this way, we're controlling the situation instead of just waiting for him to make his move."
"I don't like it," Declan said immediately. "Using you as bait—"
"I'm not the bait," I interrupted. "You are. I'll be safely here with protection. But you'll be out there, visible, vulnerable. And when Marcus makes his move, the FBI will be ready to grab him."
They debated the plan for hours. Agent Collins thought it was too dangerous. Detective Morrison thought it might be their best shot. Declan refused to consider anything that put me at risk.
But finally, reluctantly, they agreed to try.
The next day, Norex released a statement: Declan Harris was stepping down as CEO effective immediately due to personal and health concerns. The company would be seeking new leadership.
The media went wild. Speculation ran rampant. Investors panicked.
And somewhere out there, we hoped Marcus Winters was watching.
Nothing happened on the first day. Or the second. Or the third.
I was starting to think the plan had failed when Jake's burner phone finally rang.
We were all in my bedroom—me in bed, Declan beside me, Jake, Detective Morrison, and Agent Collins crowded into the room monitoring equipment.
Jake answered on speakerphone. "Hello?"
"I heard the news," Marcus Winters' voice came through, sounding pleased. "Finally, the mighty Declan Harris admits defeat."
"It was too much pressure," Jake said, playing along. "Just like you said it would be."
"And now the company is ripe for the taking," Marcus said. "I've been preparing for this moment for five years. It's finally time to claim what should have been mine all along."
"What do you need me to do?" Jake asked.
"Meet me tomorrow night," Marcus said. "I'm sending you an address now. Come alone. Don't tell anyone. This is our moment, Jake. We're going to make them all pay."
The call ended. An address appeared on the burner phone—an abandoned warehouse on the waterfront.
"It's a trap," Declan said immediately.
"Of course it's a trap," Agent Collins agreed. "But it's also our best chance to catch him. We'll wire Jake, send in a full tactical team, and—"
"No," Jake interrupted. "If Marcus suspects I'm working with you, he'll disappear again. He's too smart to be fooled by an obvious setup."
"So what do you suggest?" Detective Morrison asked.
"I go alone," Jake said. "No wire, no backup, at least not visible backup. I meet with Marcus, get him talking, and once we have enough for an arrest, your team moves in."
"That's suicide," I said. "Jake, he'll kill you."
"Maybe," Jake agreed. "But it's better than spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, wondering when he's going to make his move."
After more debate, they agreed to Jake's plan. He would go in alone, but FBI agents would be positioned all around the warehouse, ready to move in at the first sign of trouble.
The next night, we all gathered in a mobile command center near the warehouse. I'd insisted on being there despite Dr. Chen's protests, and Declan had finally given in when he realized I wasn't backing down.
We watched through surveillance cameras as Jake entered the warehouse at the appointed time.
Marcus Winters was waiting for him.
Seeing him alive after supposedly being dead for five years was surreal. He looked older, grayer, but his eyes had the same calculating intelligence I'd seen in photos.
"Jake Turner," Marcus said, his voice carrying through the audio feed. "You've done well. Kept your mouth shut, played your part perfectly."
"I want what you promised me," Jake said. "The money."
"Of course," Marcus said. "Once we finish this."
"Finish what?"
Marcus pulled out a remote control. "This warehouse is rigged with explosives. Enough to take out this entire block. And conveniently, Norex's main data center is three buildings away. When this goes up, it takes the company's entire digital infrastructure with it."
My blood ran cold.
"You're going to blow up the warehouse?" Jake asked.
"And send a message," Marcus confirmed. "That Declan Harris's legacy ends here. That everything his father built crumbles to dust."
"What about the people in those buildings?" Jake asked.
"Collateral damage," Marcus shrugged. "Sometimes sacrifices must be made."
"Move in now," Agent Collins ordered through the radio.
FBI agents swarmed the warehouse from all directions.
Marcus saw them coming and pressed the button on his remote.
"No!" Jake lunged for him, knocking the remote from his hand.
The two men struggled as agents rushed in.
And then, horror of horrors, we heard a beeping sound.
The bomb had been activated anyway. We had two minutes.
"Everybody out!" Agent Collins shouted. "Clear the area now!"
They dragged Marcus and Jake out of the warehouse. People evacuated the surrounding buildings in a panic.
"We can't disarm it in time," a bomb tech said. "We need to—"
The explosion lit up the night sky.
The blast was enormous, powerful enough to shake the ground where we were watching from a safe distance.
The warehouse was completely destroyed. Parts of the adjacent buildings were damaged, but the main data center had been evacuated in time. No casualties.
Marcus Winters was in custody. Jake was safe.
It was over.
Really, truly over.
I felt the tension I'd been carrying for months finally release, and that's when I realized I was crying.
"It's okay," Declan said, pulling me close. "We're safe now. All of us."
But then I felt it—a sharp, intense pain in my abdomen.
"Declan," I gasped. "Something's wrong."
Dr. Chen, who had insisted on coming in an ambulance just in case, was beside me immediately.
"You're in labor," she said after a quick examination. "The stress of tonight triggered it."
"But I'm only twenty-seven weeks," I said, panic rising. "The babies—"
"We need to get you to the hospi
tal now," Dr. Chen said. "There's a chance we can stop it, but we need to move fast."
As the ambulance raced toward the hospital, sirens blaring, I held Declan's hand and prayed harder than I'd ever prayed before.
Please let my babies be okay.
Please let them have enough time.
Please.