Chapter 3 - THE SILENT THREAT
The doctors cleared the girls by mid-afternoon. Rose needed round-the-clock care and frequent feedings to regain strength; Lily needed rest, nourishment, and a safe place to finally let her guard down. I brought them to my penthouse—glass, steel, pristine, and terrifyingly empty of warmth.
Lily stood just inside the doorway, staring at the vast space with wide, distrustful eyes. Rose began crying the moment she set foot inside.
“It’s too quiet here,” Lily whispered, clutching the baby tight.
I crouched beside her. “We can make it however you like. Put pictures everywhere. Blankets. Toys. Anything that feels like home. Whatever you want.”
She looked around again, then down at her scuffed bare feet. “It’s very big.”
“Too big,” I agreed. “We can get a smaller place. Or fill this one until it feels smaller. Your choice.”
That earned me the faintest flicker of something—curiosity, maybe. Hope. “Really?”
“Really. Everything here is yours too.”
Over the next few hours I showed them around, but Lily remained cautious, touching nothing unless I showed her it was safe. She chose the guest room across from the master—smaller, cozier, with soft carpet and warm afternoon light. I ordered every kind of food imaginable, but Lily ate only toast and fruit, watching the door between bites.
Night fell. I put Rose down in a bassinet beside Lily’s bed. I read them a story—one I remembered Clara reading, haltingly at first until Lily leaned in and finished it with me in a quiet voice.
When the lights went out, Lily grabbed my wrist before I could leave. “Don’t go. Please.”
I sat on the floor beside her bed. “I’m right here. I’ll stay until you sleep.”
She held my hand until her breathing slowed. Even then her grip lingered, as if she feared I would vanish the moment she slept.
I did not leave. I stayed there all night, dozing fitfully, watching the door, thinking about the woman in expensive clothes. Who was she? What did she want? Why had she gone to such lengths to separate me from my own family?
At dawn Hale called. His voice sent cold dread through me.
“Adrian. I found something. Clara didn’t just get sick. She had medication prescribed for respiratory issues—but the pharmacy records show she never picked it up. Three separate prescriptions. All unfilled. She got worse because she had no medicine.”
I sat up straight. “Why wouldn’t she fill them?”
“Because someone canceled them. Called the pharmacy each time. Claimed to be Clara’s sister. Said she was switching providers. Stopped all refills cold.”
A sister. Clara had no sister.
“That’s not all,” Hale continued. “The county clerk who issued Rose’s birth certificate—he retired suddenly two days after someone requested those copies. Moved out of state. Left no forwarding address. And the social worker assigned to their case after Clara died? She resigned the same week. Gone too.”
“They’re being silenced,” I said. “Every loose end tied up.”
“And the woman Lily described? Matches the description of Celeste’s cousin, Vivian. Vivian Blackwood. She’s been the family’s fixer for years. Handles sensitive matters. Has access to resources, cash, contacts—everything.”
My blood ran cold. Vivian. I knew her. Had met her at dinners and fundraisers. Polished, poised, impossibly charming. I had never suspected a thing.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why would she do this?”
“Think about it,” Hale said grimly. “You were about to marry Celeste. Build an empire with her family. Clara and the girls would have destroyed it all. Vivian likely visited Clara. Pressured her to stay silent. Canceled her medicine. Made sure she died. Then arranged for Mrs. Alvarez to be moved. Tried to take the girls quietly before anyone knew they existed. It all fits.”
Horror coiled in my chest. Vivian had killed Clara to clear my path to Celeste. To protect the Harrington family’s investment in me. And then she had hunted my daughters to erase the final evidence of her crime.
“She came to the wedding,” I realized. “She was there. Watching Lily walk down the aisle. She must have been terrified.”
“Terrified enough to try again,” Hale warned. “Be careful. She’s resourceful. Connected. And she has too much to lose if the truth comes out. Keep the girls close. Change locks. Hire security. Don’t trust anyone from Celeste’s circle—not even distant friends or family.”
I ended the call and stood, every muscle tense. Vivian knew where I lived. She had access to my schedule. My buildings. My life. And she would not stop until the girls were gone—or silenced.
I walked quietly to Lily’s room. She was awake, sitting up, staring toward the window. She looked small and fragile in the big bed.
I sat beside her. “Lily. Do you remember the lady who visited your mother?”
She nodded warily.
“Was her name Vivian?”
Lily’s eyes went wide. “Yes. That’s what Mommy said. Vivian. She said Vivian was helping us. But Mommy cried after she left.”
I took her hand gently. “Lily, listen to me. Vivian is not a friend. She is dangerous. Very dangerous. She may try to come here. She may pretend to be nice. She may bring gifts. Or pretend she knows me.”
Lily stared, frightened.
“If you see her,” I said firmly, “you run. Lock the door. Scream. Get me immediately. Do you understand? Never go anywhere with her. Never accept anything. She hurt your mother. And she wants to hurt you and Rose too.”
Lily went pale. “She… she hurt Mommy?”
I swallowed. “I believe so. Yes. Which is exactly why we must be very careful. But I promise you—she will never get close enough to hurt you. I will hire guards. Change everything. She will not win.”
Lily was quiet a long time. Then she leaned her head on my shoulder. “I hate her.”
“I do too,” I whispered. “And I promise—she will answer for everything.”
But as I held my daughter, another terrible thought took root. Vivian had already lost everything. If she faced ruin and prison… what would she do to keep it all hidden?
May you like
She had killed once already.
And my daughters were the only witnesses who could bring her down.
