Chapter 5 - The Bloodline Secret
"Heart tones are strong," Dr. Gabriel Ramos declared five minutes later, his eyes fixed on the small glowing screen of the portable ultrasound unit.
The rhythmic, galloping beat of my baby’s heart—*thump-thump-thump-thump*—filled the quiet library. The sound was like music, soothing the raw edges of my panic.
I let out a shuddering sigh of relief, sinking back into the cushions. Vincent stood right beside the sofa, his gaze fixed on the monitor screen as if he were staring at an apparition from heaven.
"Look at that," Vincent murmured, his voice barely louder than a breath. "She has Daniel's broad shoulders."
"The contractions were caused by acute physical stress and dehydration," Dr. Ramos said, adjusting the sensor over my gel-slicked abdomen. "Miss Linwood—or Mrs. Vance—needs absolute bed rest. She should not be walking up and down stairs, let alone dragging heavy luggage. Another shock like the one she suffered on that staircase could trigger premature labor."
Dr. Ramos turned to Vincent, his expression darkening. "Vincent, you need to see this."
Gabriel switched the display mode to analyze the blood panel data he had quickly extracted from the portable centrifuge analyzing a sample of my blood taken three minutes earlier.
"When you called, I pulled the archived prenatal files Daniel Vance secretly submitted to my private clinic two weeks before he was killed," Gabriel said in a hushed tone. "Daniel suspected someone had tainted Clara’s nutritional supplements while she was being treated at St. Jude’s."
Vincent’s eyes narrowed into slits of deadly fury. "Tainted with what?"
"Low-dose synthetic oxytocin inhibitors," Gabriel answered grimly. "Designed to induce fetal distress in the third trimester without leaving a trace of foreign chemical residue. It would have looked like a natural late-term stillbirth. Richard Sterling didn't just want to hide Clara; he wanted to ensure that no child bearing the Linwood-Sterling genetic line would ever draw breath to claim the trust."
A cold shudder ran through my entire body. I pulled the cashmere throw up to my neck, tears of revulsion stinging my eyelids. "They were trying to kill my baby... even before Daniel died."
"They knew Daniel was closing in on Grace," Gabriel added. "Daniel had already forged a new identity for Grace in Wisconsin. Richard realized that if Daniel connected Clara’s legal claim to Grace’s existence, the entire Sterling empire would be liquidated and placed into Vincent’s and Clara’s guardianship."
Vincent didn't utter an oath. He didn't smash anything. The silence that radiated from him was more terrifying than any scream. It was the calm before an annihilating storm.
"Where is Vanessa?" Vincent asked, turning slowly toward Marco, who remained stationed at the doorway.
"In the west wing suite, Boss," Marco replied. "She's been screaming at the guards, demanding her satellite phone."
"Bring her here," Vincent said quietly.
"Vincent, wait," I called out, reaching out to touch his sleeve.
He stopped, looking down at my fingers clutching his cuff. His posture softened ever so slightly.
"Don't lose your soul over them," I pleaded softly. "Daniel died trying to stop this cycle of blood. If you kill them in cold blood, you won't be able to hold Grace. You won't be able to look your daughter in the eye."
Vincent stared down at me. The harsh lines of his face twitched as if an invisible war were being fought behind his eyes.
"Clara," he whispered, bending down so only I could hear, "a man who does not protect his own blood is not a man. Daniel knew that. He gave his life for you. Now, it is my turn to finish what he started."
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Before Marco could leave the room, the distant sound of glass shattering echoed from the floor above, followed immediately by the rapid, rhythmic chatter of automatic gunfire outside the mansion’s eastern courtyard.
***
