My husband divorced me while I was pregnant

Three weeks had passed since the gala. The city had begun to settle into a new reality.

The Vance Foundation had transferred fifty million dollars back into pediatric health initiatives. The headlines had moved on to newer scandals, and my life had settled into a quiet, peaceful routine of running the enterprise by day and holding Arthur in my arms by night. Marcus was always there—by my side in the boardroom, guarding the perimeter of our lives, his presence slowly shifting from that of a protector to something deeper, warmer, and indispensable.

It was a Tuesday evening, around midnight, when the cold rain began to lash against the glass windows of the penthouse.

Arthur was asleep in his room. I sat in the study, reviewing the final settlement papers that would officially finalize my divorce from Julian, severing every remaining legal chain between us. Chloe had delivered them that afternoon with a bottle of vintage champagne.

Suddenly, Marcus’s phone rang.

The ringtone was the harsh, piercing tone reserved strictly for his highest-priority security contacts. Marcus, who had been reading a report across from me, picked it up instantly.

"Speak," Marcus said.

I watched his face. In less than two seconds, the calm, gentle expression he had worn all evening vanished completely, replaced by a mask of cold, terrifying shock.

"When?" Marcus demanded, jumping to his feet. "How is that possible? He was in a maximum-security medical ward!"

A knot of pure dread twisted in my stomach. I stood up, the divorce papers slipping from my fingers and scattering across the rug. "Marcus... what happened?"

Marcus didn't answer immediately. He listened to the frantic voice on the other end of the line, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle feathered under his skin. "Seal the perimeter. Lock down the airports. Call Agent Miller now."

He hung up the phone and looked at me. His eyes were wide with an urgency I had never seen before.

"Julian is gone," Marcus said, his voice deadly quiet.

The room seemed to spin. "What do you mean, *gone*?"

"Forty minutes ago, an explosion went off in the basement boiler room of Bellevue Hospital," Marcus said, pulling his tactical firearm from the holster beneath his jacket. "During the evacuation, a private transport ambulance with forged federal credentials pulled into the bay. Two armed men subdued the guards outside Julian’s room. They cut his electronic monitor, loaded him into the ambulance, and vanished into the storm."

My breath caught in my throat. "Who... who could have broken him out? Eleanor is in federal prison! Their money is frozen!"

"Not all of it," Marcus said, grabbing my hand and pulling me rapidly toward the nursery. "Julian wasn't speaking to Victoria Sterling or Eleanor. He was speaking to someone else. Someone who wanted Alexander Vance dead even more than Eleanor did."

Before we could reach Arthur's room, the power in the penthouse abruptly died.

The entire sixty-story tower plunged into pitch-black darkness.

Arthur began to wail from his crib.

"Stay behind me!" Marcus barked, drawing his tactical flashlight and shining it down the dark hallway toward the nursery door.

Through the darkness, the red laser dot of a high-powered sniper scope painted the glass window of our living room, hovering directly over the center of the nursery door.

And then, my personal cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

With trembling fingers, I pulled it out in the beam of Marcus’s flashlight.