Chapter 170
Maya's POV:
I stepped out of the dressing room, the heavy curtains swaying behind me. The custom gown, flown in from Paris just yesterday, fit like a second skin. The waist was structured, flaring into a silk train, while the neckline was veiled in delicate, modest tulle.
I turned to the mirror, then to them.
Father and daughter turned in unison.
"Daddy, look! Mommy looks like a princess!" Amy gasped, her small hands covering her mouth.
Adam sat frozen on the velvet sofa. He stared at me for a long moment, his grey-green eyes darkening with an intensity that made my breath hitch. He stood up slowly, adjusting his cuffs, and walked over.
"Honey," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You are beautiful."
Heat rose to my cheeks. "I think the size is perfect. No alterations needed."
"Good," Adam said, his gaze possessive. He signaled the manager. "Send it to the house."
I went back to change. As I unzipped the dress, Adam’s phone rang. When I emerged in my jeans and sweater, the warm, romantic atmosphere had evaporated.
Adam stood by the window, his back rigid. He looked like a statue carved from ice.
"What’s wrong?" I asked, stepping closer.
He looked at me, his jaw tight. "That was the facility. Claire Ashford escaped this morning during a shift change."
My blood ran cold. "Escaped?"
"I’ve mobilized the security team," Adam said, his voice clipped and dangerous. "I’m doubling the detail on you and Amy. No one gets near you."
I nodded, swallowing the lump of fear in my throat. "Okay."
We walked out of the bridal shop into the bright afternoon sun, but the world felt darker. Adam ushered us into the Aston Martin, his eyes scanning the street like a radar.
"Mommy?" Amy’s innocent voice broke the tension. "Can I have fried chicken? Please? I haven't had it in forever."
I looked back at her sweet, pleading face. She had no idea about the danger lurking in the shadows. She just wanted a normal Saturday.
"Okay, baby," I said softly. "We can go."
Amy cheered. "Yay! Thank you, Mommy!"
Adam drove us to the Prudential Center, parking near the elevator. He was alert, his body tense as we navigated the weekend crowds in the food court.
"I'll get in line," Adam said, eyeing the busy counter. "You two find a seat. Keep your phone in your hand."
I took Amy’s hand and found a booth near the back. As soon as we sat down, Amy squirmed.
"Mommy, I need to go to the bathroom."
My stomach tightened. "Okay. I'm coming with you."
We walked down the corridor to the restrooms. I pushed the door open. It was relatively quiet.
"Go ahead," I said. "Can you manage?"
Amy nodded. "I'm a big girl."
"Okay. I'll be right here at the door."
Suddenly, a woman in a dark hoodie and a low baseball cap rushed in. As she passed me, she lurched sideways, slamming her shoulder hard into mine.
"Hey!" I gasped.
My purse hit the floor, spilling my keys and wallet.
I sighed, crouching to gather my things. My hands shook slightly. I checked my watch. Five minutes.
"Amy?" I called out. "Everything okay?"
Silence.
"Amy?" I knocked on the stall door. "Answer Mommy."
Nothing. No movement. No sound. Just a terrifying, heavy silence.
Panic exploded in my chest. "Amy!"
I dialed Adam immediately. "Adam, come now! The bathroom down the hall. Amy isn't answering."
"I'm coming."
I threw my shoulder against the stall door. "Amy! Open the door!"
I dropped to my knees to look under the gap. Instead of standing, Amy was lying on the tiles. Motionless.
"Oh my god."
I scrambled up and hammered on the lock. Suddenly, it clicked. The door swung open from the inside.
I rushed in. The woman in the baseball cap was standing there. She looked up, and under the brim, I saw the manic eyes of Claire Ashford.
"Hello, Maya," she hissed. "Long time no see."
My gaze dropped. Amy was curled in the corner, unconscious. A trickle of bright red blood ran down her forehead.
"Amy!!!" I screamed, the sound raw and agonizing.
I lunged forward, shoving Claire against the wall. "Get away from her!"
I fell to my knees beside my daughter, my hands hovering over her small body. "Amy? Baby? It's Mommy. Please, wake up..."
Claire laughed—a high, broken sound. "Why does she get to exist? Why do you get to give him a child? It should have been me!"
"You're crazy!" I cried. "She’s a child!"
"You ruined everything!" Claire shrieked. She pulled a knife from her pocket. "You can die together!"
She lunged.
I spun around, shielding Amy with my body. I threw my hand up to block the strike. The blade sliced across my palm, searing hot pain shooting up my arm.
"Stop it!" I shouted, grabbing her wrist with my bleeding hand. "Adam never wanted you! It was all in your head!"
"Liar!" Claire screamed, pressing the knife down. "I'll kill you! Then I'll kill the brat!"
"You won't get the chance," I snarled.
BANG.
The stall door shattered inward. A massive force hit Claire, sending her flying backward into the sinks. She crumbled to the floor, the knife clattering away.
Adam stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes murderous.
"Adam!" I sobbed, clutching my hand. "Get Amy. We have to get Amy."
Adam looked down. Seeing his daughter on the floor with blood on her face, he looked like he had been shot. He scooped her up, holding her tight against his chest.
"We’re going. Now."
I scrambled up. James Cooper burst into the room with security, tackling Claire to the ground.
"Adam..." Claire wheezed from the floor.
"Get her out of my sight," Adam growled.
We ran. Adam drove like a madman to Mass General. I sat in the back, holding Amy’s limp hand, weeping.
At the ER, Adam carried Amy straight in. Nurses swarmed us, taking her away to trauma.
"You can't go in," a nurse said, blocking us.
Adam stood frozen, staring at the doors. He turned to me, seeing the blood dripping from my hand onto the sterile floor.
"Maya," he choked out. "Come. You need stitches."
"No!" I shook my head violently. "I'm not leaving. She needs me!"
"Maya, please." Adam grabbed my shoulders, his eyes red-rimmed. "Amy is in surgery. She needs her mother strong. You are bleeding."
He flagged down a doctor passing by. "Treat her here. Now."
The doctor saw the look on Adam’s face and didn't argue. He brought a kit to the waiting area.
As the needle pierced my skin, I didn't feel it. I buried my face in Adam’s chest. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me together as we waited in the terrifying silence.
"She’ll be okay," he whispered into my hair, his voice trembling. "I promise."