Aurelia POV
Dr. Lee looked at the ultrasound monitor and smiled, the soft whoosh-whoosh of the Doppler filling the small room.
"He's perfect," she said. "Strong heartbeat. Good measurements."
I looked at the grainy black and white image. My son. He was curled up tight, his hands tucked near his face. He looked peaceful. He was floating in a dark, quiet universe, having no idea he was the center of a war.
"Is it safe to travel?" I asked, my voice tight.
Dr. Lee frowned, wiping the transducer wand. "You're thirty-two weeks, Aurelia. It's risky. Where are you going?"
"Away," I said.
I didn't wait for her advice. I wiped the gel off my stomach with a rough paper towel, pulled my oversized sweater down, and hurried out of the exam room.
I walked out of the clinic into the bright, blinding afternoon sun.
A black armored SUV was idling at the curb.
My heart stopped.
Two men in dark suits were standing by the doors. Soldiers. Jacob's men.
And then, the back window rolled down.
Jacob was sitting there. He was wearing sunglasses, his face an impassive mask of stone.
"Get in," he said.
It wasn't a shout. It was a command, low and vibrating with absolute authority.
People were walking by on the sidewalk. A mother with a stroller. A businessman on his phone. They glanced at the SUV, sensed the radiating danger, and looked away, instinctively walking faster.
"No," I said.
Jacob took off his sunglasses. His eyes were cold, hard ice. "Do not make a scene, Aurelia. You look ridiculous in that sweater. You look poor."
"I am poor," I said, my chin trembling. "You stole everything."
"I am protecting what is mine. Get in the car. We are going home."
"Home to what?" I raised my voice, letting it crack. I wanted people to look. I wanted witnesses. "Home to your mistress? Home to the woman who wants to steal my baby?"
Jacob's jaw tightened, a muscle feathering beneath the skin. "Lower your voice."
"Why? Are you afraid the world will know the great Don Moretti is conspiring with his sterile whore to kidnap his own child?"
The soldiers shifted uncomfortably, hands hovering near their jackets. Jacob's hand clenched on the doorframe, knuckles turning white.
"She is not sterile," he said, the lie slipping out smooth as silk.
"She is," I said, stepping closer to the car, fueled by a sudden surge of adrenaline. "I saw her medical records in the safe, Jacob. Along with the prenup. She can't carry a child. That's why you married me. That's why you needed the 'Virgin Heroine.' I was just parts."
Jacob opened the door. He stepped out. He was huge, imposing, radiating a dark, suffocating violence.
"You are hysterical," he said, reaching for my arm.
I stepped back, right into the path of a passing pedestrian. The man stumbled, apologizing profusely.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed, grabbing the stranger's sleeve. "Help! He's trying to take me!"
The pedestrian looked terrified. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. "I'm calling the police."
Jacob froze.
\The police were on his payroll, mostly. But a public scene in broad daylight with civilians recording? That brought the FBI. That brought heat he didn't need right now, not with the internal war just settling down.
He looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You are making a mistake," he said softly.
"The mistake was saying 'I do'," I spat back.
He signaled to his men with a sharp jerk of his head. They got back in the car.
"This isn't over," Jacob said. "I will take him, Aurelia. The courts, the streets, it doesn't matter. He is a Moretti. He belongs to the throne."
He got in the car. The SUV peeled away, merging aggressively into traffic.
I stood there shaking, the adrenaline crash leaving me weak.
My phone rang. It was Ms. Davis.
"Aurelia," she sounded breathless. "I just got served. He's suing for full custody. He's alleging mental instability. He has affidavits from three doctors saying you're a danger to yourself and the child."
I watched the black SUV disappear around the corner.
"He bought them," I said dully.
"He has the best lawyers in the state, Aurelia. He has judges in his pocket. If this goes to court... you will lose. You will lose Leo."
Leo. I had named him in my head days ago.
"I know," I whispered.
"What do we do?" Ms. Davis asked, panic edging her voice.
"Legal means won't work," I said, staring at the empty street where he had been. "The law doesn't apply to men like Jacob."
I hung up.
I needed the nuclear option.