The Rolls-Royce cruised smoothly down the tree-lined road leading away from the estate. Haleigh stared out the tinted window.
Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched. Haleigh flew forward, her shoulder slamming hard into the back of the leather seat.
An Aston Martin was parked sideways across the narrow road, blocking their path.
Cleon kicked his car door open and swaggered toward the Rolls-Royce. Haleigh's driver jumped out to stop him, but two massive bodyguards stepped out of the Aston Martin and shoved the driver hard against the hood.
Cleon yanked the back door of the Rolls-Royce open and slid into the seat next to Haleigh. He smelled like stale smoke and arrogance.
Haleigh's eyes went dead. She immediately slid across the leather bench, pressing her back against the opposite door to maximize the physical distance between them.
"I have ears in the sunroom," Cleon whispered, leaning close. "I know about the IVF."
Haleigh's heart hammered against her ribs, but she kept her face completely blank.
"My uncle's sperm has been frozen for years. The viability is garbage," Cleon sneered. "You are going to fail. But I have a better idea."
He looked her up and down. "Sleep with me. Get pregnant with my kid. We pass it off as Fabian's heir. When the old lady dies, we split the trust fund, and you get to be my little secret on the side."
The sheer sickness of his words made Haleigh's stomach violently turn.
She didn't say a word. She raised her right hand and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength she had.
The crack echoed like a gunshot inside the quiet car. A bright red handprint instantly bloomed across Cleon's cheek.
Cleon grabbed his face. His eyes went wild with rage. "You bitch!" He raised his fist, ready to punch her.
Haleigh reached into her purse. Her hand closed around the small, folding eyebrow razor she kept in her makeup bag. She snapped the blade open and pressed the sharp edge directly against her own carotid artery.
"Touch me," Haleigh said, her voice eerily calm. "If I bleed out in this car, Berneice will have your skin peeled off your body while you are still breathing."
Cleon froze. His fist hovered in the air. He looked at the blade pressing into her pale skin. He saw the absolute, unhinged certainty in her eyes. She wasn't bluffing.
He cursed loudly, kicked the back of the driver's seat, and scrambled out of the car. He slammed the door shut.
Haleigh lowered the razor. Her hands were shaking so violently she could barely fold the blade back. "Drive," she ordered the driver. "Now."
Three weeks later, the Rolls-Royce pulled into a private underground garage in the Upper East Side. There were no signs outside the boutique clinic. The interim had been a blur of daily hormone injections, blood draws, and ultrasound scans, her body carefully calibrated to the precise state the embryo required. Berneice's clinic had sent a nurse to the estate every morning. Haleigh's abdomen was faintly bruised from the needles, but her chart had finally cleared.
Haleigh was escorted into a highly sterile VIP operating room. She changed into a hospital gown.
Dr. Payne, a man with graying hair and a serious face, walked in. He reviewed her final blood work on a tablet, nodded with quiet satisfaction, then held up a small screen showing a microscopic image. "This is the healthiest embryo from Mr. Blackburn's reserve. Your hormone levels are optimal. The chances are excellent."
Haleigh lay back on the cold operating table. The bright surgical lights blinded her. She closed her eyes.
She felt the cold metal instruments. A dull, aching pressure built low in her pelvis. It was the physical sensation of her fate being sealed.
Ten minutes later, it was over. A nurse wheeled her into a quiet recovery room and helped her lie flat on a bed.
Haleigh rested her palm gently over her lower abdomen. It felt impossible that a life might be starting in there.
The nurse handed her a cup of warm milk. "Rest here. The next two weeks are critical for implantation."
Haleigh looked out the window at the steel skyscrapers of Manhattan. She made a silent promise to the dark room. No matter what happened, she would protect this child from everyone.
