Chapter 3

Ava POV

I lay in the dark, listening to the sterile hum of the refrigerator in the lab.

The sedative Ben had administered made my limbs feel like lead, but my mind was a scalpel, cutting through the fog of grief with cold precision.

Ben came back the next afternoon.

Dark crescents hung beneath his eyes. He locked the lab door behind him and scanned the room for bugs-a habit ingrained from a decade of working for the Reeds.

"We need to talk," he said, pulling a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket.

He handed it to me. It was a toxicology report.

"I ran your blood work from last night," Ben said, his voice barely a whisper. "I found traces of Pennyroyal and Blue Cohosh. High concentrations."

I stared at the numbers. They were just black ink on white paper, but they screamed premeditation. These were herbs used for centuries to induce miscarriages.

"Chloe," I said. The name tasted like bile.

"I checked the inventory of the underground clinic she was visiting in the Bronx," Ben continued, his eyes heavy with pity. "They ordered these specific herbs three days ago. Under a pseudonym."

"She poisoned me."

The realization didn't bring tears; it brought a glacial clarity.

"She made me tea," I said, my voice trembling with a rage so cold it burned. "She smiled and watched me drink it, knowing it would kill his child."

"Ava, you have to leave," Ben said, gripping my hand. "If Ethan finds out..."

"If Ethan finds out what?" I pulled my hand away. "That his girlfriend is a murderer? Or that he was too busy playing Don to protect his own unborn child?"

"He won't believe it," Ben said sadly. "She has his ear. She has his heart. He thinks she's a victim."

I laughed-a jagged, foreign sound that scraped against my throat.

"He promised me a home, Ben. He promised me we were family."

"I can help you get out," Ben offered. "I have contacts."

"No."

I stood up, ignoring the sharp, phantom pain in my abdomen. "Running is for victims. And I am done being a victim."

I walked over to my desk and opened the bottom drawer. Inside, hidden beneath a stack of old medical journals, was a file I had prepared months ago. Just in case.

It was a separation agreement. Not for a marriage-we weren't married-but for a business partnership.

It outlined the division of assets, specifically the patents for the drugs I had created for the family. The clotting agents, the undetectable poisons, the stimulants. They were mine. Legally and intellectually.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number for the family's lawyer, Mr. Steinberg.

"I need you to execute the separation protocol," I said. "Asset division. Immediate effect."

Steinberg sputtered on the other end. "Miss Miller, surely you want to discuss this with the Don first? The timing is..."

"The timing is perfect," I cut him off. "Do it. And keep it quiet until the papers are ready."

I hung up just as my personal cell phone buzzed.

Ethan.

I stared at the screen for a long moment before answering.

"Ava?" His voice was smooth, devoid of guilt. "How are things holding up?"

"Fine," I said. "Just peachy."

"Good. Listen, I'm wrapping up here. I stopped by the jeweler."

My breath hitched. For a second, a stupid, pathetic part of me hoped.

"I got you a little something," he said. "A bonus. For handling Chloe so well. She told me how attentive you've been."

A bonus.

Like I was an employee of the month.

Like my grief was a transaction.

"You shouldn't have," I said, my voice dripping with ice.

"It's a bracelet," he said, oblivious. "Diamond. You'll love it. I'll be home in an hour. We can celebrate."

"Celebrate what, Ethan?"

"The shipment is safe. Chloe is happy. Life is good, Ava."

Life is good.

I looked at the toxicology report on my desk. I looked at the empty spot in my womb where a heart had stopped beating less than twenty-four hours ago.

"I'm not feeling well," I lied. "I'm going to bed early. Leave the... bonus... on the counter."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed, but not concerned. "Alright. Feel better. Chloe wants to go shopping tomorrow, maybe you can go with her?"

"Goodbye, Ethan."

I hung up before I screamed.

He didn't know. He didn't know about the baby, or the poison, or the fact that his perfect life was built on my corpse. And the worst part was, he didn't care enough to notice.

I walked to the mirror in the corner of the lab. My face was pale, my eyes dark circles of exhaustion. I looked like a ghost.

"Good," I whispered to my reflection. "Ghosts are scary."

I went back to the safe. I moved the separation agreement aside and pulled out a black ledger.

This was my insurance.

For ten years, I hadn't just been making drugs. I had been keeping records. Every illegal shipment, every bribe to a judge, every body buried in the Pine Barrens.

I knew where the bodies were because I had synthesized the chemicals to dissolve them.

This book could bring down the Reed empire in a week.

I ran my fingers over the leather cover. I had protected him with silence. I had protected him with my skills. I had protected him with my body.

Omertà. The code of silence.

I opened the book. The pages crinkled.

Ethan wanted a celebration? I would give him one. I would light the candles on his cake with the flames of his own destruction.

I touched my stomach one last time.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the baby I never held. "But Mommy has work to do."