Chapter 68 *
Scarlett’s POV
"I don't work here," I said.
"Oh! I'm sorry. I just assumed—"
"It's fine."
"Are you here for a meeting?"
"Something like that."
She smiled. Wider now. "Mr. Wolfe doesn't usually bring guests to the office."
I didn't respond. Just ate a strawberry.
"He must trust you a lot."
I looked at her. She was watching me with that same curious expression.
This woman is dying to know who I am.
"If you need anything, I'm right outside," she said finally.
"Thanks, Jessica."
She left. Again.
I leaned back on the couch. Sighed.
This is going to be a long morning.
An hour later, I needed to use the bathroom.
I stepped out of Damon's office. Looked around.
Jessica was at her desk. Typing something.
"Excuse me," I said. "Where's the restroom?"
"Down the hall. Second door on the left."
"Thanks."
I walked down the hallway. Found the bathroom.
I went into a stall. Locked the door.
Then I saw it.
Blood.
A small red stain on my underwear.
My heart stopped.
No.
I'm pregnant. This isn't a period.
My hands started shaking.
I pressed my palm against my stomach. Tried to stay calm.
I need to get to a hospital. Now.
But Damon's in a meeting. Won't be done for another two hours.
Can't wait two hours.
I cleaned myself up. Walked back to the office.
Jessica looked up when she saw me.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Fine." I kept my voice steady. "When will Mr. Wolfe be done with his meeting?"
"Around noon. Another two hours."
Shit.
"Can you let him know I had to step out? I'll be back this afternoon."
Her eyebrows went up. "Step out? Do you need a car? I can call—"
"No. I'm fine. Just need to run an errand."
"Are you sure? Mr. Wolfe said to make sure you had everything you needed."
"I'm sure. Thanks."
I grabbed my bag. Headed for the elevator.
I stepped out of the building.
The Uber pulled up. I slid into the back seat.
"Wolfe Memorial Hospital?" The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror. Older guy. Maybe fifty. Kind eyes.
"Yeah."
He pulled into traffic.
"You okay, miss? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine. Just need to see a doctor."
"Emergency?"
"Routine checkup."
He nodded. Didn't push further.
I stared out the window. Watched the city blur past.
Wolfe Memorial Hospital was Damon's family medical facility. Private. Exclusive. No appointments needed.
The driver took the highway. Traffic was light.
"You sure you're alright?" He asked again. "You seem worried."
I forced a small smile. "I'm okay. Really."
"My daughter's pregnant. Eight months now." He grinned. "I recognize that look. First baby?"
"Yeah."
"Exciting times." His smile widened. "Scary too. But you'll do great."
"Thanks."
I went back to staring out the window.
The city gave way to quieter streets. Fewer buildings. More trees.
Wolfe Memorial was deliberately isolated. Privacy was the whole point.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the parking garage.
"This is it?" The driver looked around. "Doesn't look like a hospital."
"It's private."
"Fancy." He grinned. "Must be nice."
I reached for my wallet. Started counting bills.
Then I heard it.
Engines. Multiple. Coming in fast.
My head snapped up.
Three black SUVs came screaming around the corner. Tires squealing.
Heading straight for us.
"What theâ€"" The driver started.
I grabbed the back of his seat. "Drive! Now!"
But it was too late.
The lead SUV slammed on its brakes. Swerved hard.
Clipped our rear bumper.
The impact threw me sideways. My shoulder hit the door.
The driver cursed. Threw the car into park.
"What the hell, man?" He was already opening his door. "You can't just speed through a parking garage like that!"
He was walking toward the SUVs.
All three vehicles stopped. Doors opened.
Men poured out.
A lot of men.
Twenty. Maybe thirty.
All wearing dark suits. Earpieces. Moving with military precision.
The driver froze. Took two steps back.
"I ... just wanted to..."
One of the men walked forward. Didn't say anything. Just stared.
The driver turned white.
"Sorry. My mistake. Didn't see you there."
He practically ran back to his car. Got in. Locked the doors.
Looked at me through the rearview mirror.
"Miss, I think you should get out here."
I was already moving. Grabbed my bag. Opened the door.
"Keep the change."
I stepped out.
The driver didn't wait. Reversed fast. Tires screeching again.
Gone in seconds.
I stood there. Surrounded by armed men in suits.
My tactical training kicked in automatically.
Assess the weapons. Concealed carry. Probably Glocks. Maybe SIG Sauers.
Fighting my way out? Possible. But risky.
So I just stood there. Bag in hand. Face neutral.
What the hell is this?
The men parted. Made a path.
Someone was coming through.
An old man. Mid-sixties. White hair. Expensive suit.
Two men were supporting him. One on each arm.
He walked slowly. Carefully.
Like he was injured. Or sick.
Then I saw the grip.
The way the men were holding his arms. Too tight. Too controlled.
Not helping him walk.
Restraining him.
My coins scattered across the pavement.
The old man bent down. Started picking them up.
"I'm so sorry about this, young lady." His voice was warm. Apologetic. "Did they frighten you?"
I looked at him. Then at the men surrounding us.
"It's fine."
He handed me the coins. His hands were steady. But I saw the bruises on his wrists.
Recent. Fresh.
"Looks like rain's coming." He glanced at the sky. "If you don't have urgent business here, you should probably head home. I'm sure your family's worried."
"I have an appointment actually."
His expression didn't change. But something flickered in his eyes.
"Well then." He straightened up. "I suppose we're both here for the same reason."
He started walking toward the hospital entrance.
The men followed. Surrounding him. Surrounding me.
I fell into step behind them.
The automatic doors slid open.
A handful of nurses at the front desk. A few patients in the waiting area.
Everything looked normal.
"Good morning, Dr. Patterson."
A nurse smiled as we passed. Bright. Genuine.
The old man smiled back. "Morning, Claire."
Dr. Patterson.
I relaxed slightly. Maybe one percent.
If he actually worked here. If the staff knew him.
Then maybe this wasn't what it looked like.
Maybe he really was just some important surgeon with heavy security.
The men spread out. Took positions around the lobby.
Blocking exits. Watching entrances.
But nobody seemed to notice.
Or maybe they were just used to it.
Rich people and their security details. Nothing unusual about that.
Dr. Patterson walked toward the elevators.
I headed for the front desk. "Hi, I need to - "
The scream cut through everything.
"CALL 911!"
Dr. Patterson's voice cracked. "These people are terrorists!"
I spun around.
He was on the ground. Blood streaming from his head.
One of the "security" men stood over him. Fist still raised.
Everything happened at once.
The men moved. Fast. Coordinated.
Guns appeared from under jackets. Not pistols.
Assault rifles.
The front doors slammed shut. Locked. Metal shutters dropped over the windows.
Someone cut the lights. Emergency lighting kicked in.
"Hands on your heads! Get down!"
The voice came through a megaphone. Amplified. Commanding.
"Anyone moves, we shoot!"
Screaming. Crying. People dropping to the floor.
I went down with them. Hands on my head.
Knelt in the middle of the lobby.
More men poured in. Dozens of them. All masked now. All armed.
They fanned out. Controlled every entrance. Every exit.
One of them started collecting phones. Moving through the crowd.
When he reached me, I handed mine over. No resistance.
He tossed it into a bag with the others.
Dr. Patterson was still on the ground. Blood pooling under his head.
Nobody helped him.
I just wanted a prenatal checkup.
Instead I'm in the middle of a hospital siege.
My luck is unbelievable.
But underneath the frustration... A familiar feeling was rising.
The electric thrill I used to get before missions.
God.
I'd missed this.