Chapter 3 - Under Military LockThe military hospital at Joint Base Lewis-McChord was quiet, the corridors smelling of antiseptic and polished linoleum. I lay in a private, high-security room, monitored by a team of specialized obstetricians who ensured the baby was safe and healthy despite the trauma I had endured.
My father sat in the chair beside my bed, his military cover resting on the nightstand. His uniform was immaculate, but his face looked incredibly tired.
"The baby is strong, Claire," he said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "The doctors say the amniotic fluid is normal, and the heartbeat is steady. You’re going to be okay."
"What about Grant?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "And Evelyn?"
"Grant is currently held at the military brig under a pre-trial confinement order," Dad replied, his voice turning cold. "Evelyn was booked into the county jail. Her bail is set at one hundred thousand dollars, which she cannot pay because I’ve already filed an emergency injunction to freeze all joint assets linked to your family trust."
"He took my money, Dad," I said, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. "He made me sign papers. He said that if I didn't, he would have me committed to a psychiatric facility and take sole custody of the baby once it was born."
"He can't touch you or the baby, Claire," my father said, his jaw tightening. "My legal team has already begun drafting a petition for a permanent protection order. We are going to strip him of his rank, his pension, and his freedom."
A knock on the door interrupted us. A young lieutenant colonel named Marcus, who served as the base’s chief legal counsel, walked in holding a thick leather folder.
"Colonel Mercer, Mrs. Vance," Marcus said, nodding respectfully. "I have the preliminary financial reports. It’s worse than we thought. Captain Vance wasn't just siphoning money from your trust to pay for his personal debts. He was using your funds to finance an unauthorized, private business venture with a local defense contractor."
My father stood up, his eyes narrowing. "A defense contractor? While on active duty?"
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"Yes, Sir," Marcus nodded, opening the folder. "We’ve uncovered a paper trail showing that Grant was leaking proprietary military logistics data to a shell company owned by his mother. In exchange, they were receiving kickbacks paid directly into an offshore account in the Cayman Islands."
I stared at the documents, my mind racing. Grant wasn't just a brutal husband; he was a traitor to his uniform.
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