Chapter 3 - The Doctor’s Secret
The afternoon breeze suddenly felt biting, carrying the sharp scent of crushed grass and shattered champagne. Doctor Harrison’s fingers hovered over the golden seal in his pocket, his expression completely devoid of the panic he had feigned moments earlier.
"You're a terrible liar, Julian," Doctor Harrison said, his voice dropping an octave, losing its frantic medical edge entirely. "And you were always entirely too careless with your paper trail."
Julian froze, his hand still suspended in the air where he had tried to grab Clara’s phone. He stared at the doctor, recognition slowly dawning in his panicked eyes. "Marcus? What are you... you're supposed to be in Zurich."
"I was," Marcus replied smoothly, stepping past Eleanor without a shred of fear. He gently placed a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder, easing the wedding knife down by a fraction of an inch. "Until Eleanor hired me to audit the foundation’s medical grants three months ago. We didn't just find the missing millions, Julian. We found the medical records you forged to prove Clara’s pregnancy was high-risk, forcing her into isolation."
Clara staggered backward, her hands flying to her stomach. She stared at Marcus, then at Eleanor, her chest heaving. "Isolation? What are you talking about? My pregnancy is real! This baby is real!"
"I know it is, Clara," Eleanor said softly, the menacing edge finally fading from her voice, replaced by a devastating, heavy sorrow. She turned her gaze fully onto the pregnant woman for the first time. "And that is the only reason you are still breathing on my lawn."
Julian tried to bolt, pivoting sharply toward the grand mahogany doors of the mansion, but two private security guards in plain clothes emerged from the shadows of the colonnade, blocking his exit with quiet, professional authority.
"Going somewhere, son?" a deep voice boomed from the top of the terrace stairs.
Mr. Sterling, Eleanor’s father and the founder of the multi-billion-dollar conglomerate, descended the steps slowly. His silver hair caught the sunlight, and his eyes were fixed entirely on his son-in-law with an icy, predatory stillness.
May you like
Julian swallowed hard, his knees visibly weakening as the trap finally snapped shut around him.
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