Chapter 3 - SOMEONE INSIDE HIS HOUSE
Daniel did not defend himself.
That frightened Hannah more than denial would have.
He stood in the bakery beneath warm pendant lights while Mrs. Alvarez pretended to rearrange pastries she had already arranged three times.
“Mercer Holdings has hundreds of employees,” Daniel said finally.
“That is not comforting.”
“No.”
“Who can request private medical data?”
“No one legally.”
“Again. Not comforting.”
Daniel turned to his security chief.
“Evan.”
The man straightened.
“Find the authorization chain.”
“Already started.”
“No calls through company servers.”
“Yes.”
“No internal email.”
“Yes.”
“And no one knows we’re checking.”
Evan nodded.
Hannah watched.
Daniel’s organization moved like a machine built around obedience.
Once, she had mistaken that efficiency for safety.
Then she had realized safety controlled by one man could disappear the moment that man made the wrong decision.
“Who knew I was pregnant?” she asked.
Daniel looked at her.
“No one I trusted.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Someone in your company did.”
“Yes.”
“And they hid it.”
“Yes.”
“From you.”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms.
“Why?”
Daniel’s face remained still.
“That is what scares me.”
The safe apartment he found belonged to no company Hannah could trace.
She checked.
Twice.
A furnished two-bedroom unit over a law office in Pawtucket. The leaseholder was a retired teacher named Helen Sloane who lived in Florida most of the year.
Daniel explained that Helen was the aunt of one of his attorneys.
Hannah called Helen herself.
The woman answered from Tampa and confirmed everything.
“Daniel told me you might call,” Helen said.
“Did he tell you why?”
“No, honey. And I told him if he wanted to use my apartment for anything illegal, I’d haunt him before I died.”
Hannah looked at Daniel.
He heard.
“I like her,” Hannah said.
“So does everyone.”
“Do you?”
“She terrifies me.”
Hannah smiled despite herself.
Helen continued.
“You stay as long as you need. Rent is already paid through winter. I don’t want to know by whom.”
“Thank you.”
“One condition.”
“What?”
“Water the basil.”
Hannah looked toward the kitchen window.
A dying basil plant sat in a yellow pot.
“I’ll try.”
“Try harder than my nephew.”
The call ended.
Daniel had one guard stationed in the lobby.
Another across the street.
Neither entered the apartment.
He remained only because Hannah had not asked him to leave.
That fact sat between them.
She unpacked the small emergency bag she had kept in her car.
Two shirts.
Scrubs.
Medication.
A toothbrush.
Ultrasound photographs.
Daniel saw them on the table.
He did not touch them.
“May I look?”
Hannah stared at him.
The question still felt strange.
“You saw the screen.”
“For four seconds.”
She looked down at the pictures.
A tiny profile.
His son.
Their son.
She slid one photograph toward him.
Daniel sat.
He picked it up by the edges.
His hands were steady until they weren’t.
He stared for a long time.
“That’s his face?”
“Yes.”
“Nose?”
“Yes.”
“Hand?”
“Yes.”
“He has five fingers?”
Hannah almost laughed.
“On that hand.”
Daniel looked alarmed.
She smiled.
“They checked both.”
He exhaled.
“Do not do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say things like that and then wait.”
“You frighten armed men for a living.”
“I am discovering obstetrics is worse.”
“You’ll survive.”
His eyes lifted.
“Will I?”
The question was not about obstetrics.
Hannah looked away.
Daniel placed the ultrasound picture back exactly where she had left it.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I’m not asking you to come back.”
“Good.”
“I am asking to know my son.”
Her chest tightened.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you can understand knowing him is not the same as controlling everything around him.”
Daniel nodded.
“I’m learning.”
“Learning is not enough.”
“No.”
“You have to change behavior.”
“Yes.”
She studied him.
He was not arguing.
“Who are you and what did you do with Daniel Mercer?”
One corner of his mouth moved.
“He had six months to become unbearable to himself.”
Hannah did not know what to do with that.
Her phone rang.
Dr. Morris.
Hannah answered.
“Hi.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I checked the fetal genetic report.”
Hannah’s hand tightened.
“And?”
“The original lab result was opened four months ago by an external portal request.”
“Mercer Holdings.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stood.
Dr. Morris continued.
“I also checked your chart audit. Someone accessed your hospital registration data twice before today.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago and nine days ago.”
Hannah’s skin chilled.
“From where?”
“Not here. Remote credential.”
“Whose?”
“One of our administrative accounts.”
“Can you identify the person?”
“IT is checking.”
Daniel took out his phone.
Hannah raised a hand.
He stopped.
“Lena, do you want Daniel’s security involved?”
Dr. Morris paused.
“That is the most considerate sentence I have heard today.”
Daniel rolled his eyes.
Hannah almost smiled.
“I want hospital security and state police first,” Dr. Morris said. “If they ask his people for assistance, fine.”
Hannah looked at Daniel.
He nodded.
“Done.”
Dr. Morris continued.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“The user who accessed your chart opened only three fields.”
Hannah held her breath.
“Which?”
“Address.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“Emergency contact,” Dr. Morris continued.
“And?”
“Estimated due date.”
Hannah covered her stomach.
Not medical details.
Logistics.
Where she lived.
Who might be connected.
When the baby would come.
“They’re planning,” she whispered.
Daniel was already moving toward the window.
“Planning what?” Dr. Morris asked.
“We don’t know.”
Hannah ended the call after promising to stay in touch.
Daniel called Evan.
“Due date was accessed.”
Pause.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“No, don’t assume kidnapping.”
Hannah looked at him.
The fact that he said the word so calmly turned her stomach.
Daniel caught her expression.
“Sorry.”
“Stop saying that every time your world enters the room.”
“What should I say?”
“The truth.”
He nodded.
“The truth is if someone is collecting your address, contact, fetal sex, and due date, they may want leverage.”
“Against you.”
“Yes.”
“Why not contact me directly?”
“They may not need you afraid yet.”
The answer chilled her.
“Who benefits from hiding the pregnancy from you?”
Daniel sat across from her.
“Someone who wanted time.”
“For what?”
“To position themselves.”
“Against you?”
“Or around me.”
She frowned.
Daniel leaned forward.
“My father is dead. My uncle runs our construction division. My cousin controls South Boston docks. My board handles the legitimate companies.”
“That sounded almost normal until you said your cousin controls docks.”
“He runs freight contracts.”
“Daniel.”
“I know.”
She sighed.
“Who inherits your business if you die?”
His face changed.
“That is not a simple question.”
“Make it simple.”
“Legitimate assets go by trust.”
“To whom?”
“My sister.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Half-sister. Julia. She lives in Seattle.”
“And the rest?”
“The rest is not something courts distribute cleanly.”
“Mafia.”
“I don’t like that word.”
“It has fewer syllables than ‘criminal organization with family governance problems.’”
Daniel almost smiled.
Then became serious.
“Without a recognized child, certain people expect my cousin Michael to eventually take control.”
Hannah understood.
“With a son?”
“Everything changes.”
Her body went cold.
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
“And you still want to know him?”
Daniel stared at her.
“Hannah.”
“That is a real question.”
His voice dropped.
“He is my son before he is anything to my name.”
“He is not an heir.”
“No.”
“He is not leverage.”
“No.”
“He is not a succession plan.”
“No.”
“If anyone around you uses that language—”
“They’re gone.”
She flinched.
Daniel corrected.
“Out of my organization.”
“Good.”
He leaned back.
“You think I don’t understand what you fear.”
“I think you understand it intellectually.”
“That is fair.”
“The problem is you were raised inside it.”
“Yes.”
“You may see danger as normal.”
“Yes.”
“So did I, eventually.”
Daniel looked down.
“That is why you left.”
“Yes.”
Silence settled.
Then Daniel’s phone buzzed.
Evan.
Daniel answered.
“What?”
He listened.
His face emptied.
“Who?”
Pause.
“When did she access it?”
Another pause.
“Where is she now?”
Hannah’s stomach tightened.
Daniel ended the call.
“Who authorized the Mercer Holdings request?” she asked.
He looked at her.
“My aunt.”
“Your father’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Margaret Mercer.”
“Why would she care about my pregnancy?”
Daniel’s expression had become dangerous in the quiet way she remembered.
“Because she has spent fifteen years trying to make sure Michael inherits everything.”
The baby kicked.
Hannah’s hand moved instinctively.
Daniel saw.
Neither spoke for a moment.
Then Hannah asked, “Does Margaret know I’m in Providence?”
“She knows enough.”
“Where is she?”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“At my house.”
Hannah stared.
“The house that was attacked?”
“Yes.”
“Was she hurt?”
“No.”
“Convenient.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You think she staged it.”
“I think someone used your company to access my medical data and then men attacked your home the day you found me.”
His eyes hardened.
“I need to talk to her.”
“You need evidence.”
“I can get both.”
“That sounds like old Daniel.”
He stopped.
She continued.
“Do not walk into a room angry and make everyone afraid to tell you the truth.”
His jaw worked.
“You’re asking me to be gentle with a woman who may have put you and my child at risk.”
“I’m asking you to be useful.”
That landed.
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Come with me.”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“I thought you wanted me supervised.”
“I want you accountable. Not watched by a pregnant woman while you interrogate your aunt.”
“I’m not interrogating her.”
“You just made that face.”
“What face?”
“The one that made a federal prosecutor once forget his own question at dinner.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Then his phone rang again.
This time he put it on speaker.
Evan’s voice came through.
“We have Margaret on interior camera.”
“Doing what?”
“Packing.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“Stop her from leaving.”
Hannah raised one finger.
Daniel saw it.
He corrected.
“Politely.”
Evan paused.
“Boss?”
“Ask her to wait.”
Another pause.
“Understood.”
The call ended.
Hannah nodded.
“Progress.”
Daniel looked offended.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
Her phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
Hannah opened it.
A photograph filled the screen.
It showed Daniel standing outside the ultrasound room earlier that morning.
Hannah beside him.
Her hand on her belly.
The angle was from the end of the corridor.
Someone had been inside the hospital.
Beneath the image:
HE KNOWS NOW.
YOUR CLOCK STARTED.
Daniel read over her shoulder.
His expression changed.
“What clock?” Hannah whispered.
A second message arrived.
FORTY-EIGHT HOURS.
THEN THE BOY BELONGS TO THE FAMILY.
Daniel went completely still.
Hannah looked at him.
“No.”
His eyes rose to hers.
She covered her belly with both hands.
“No family. Not yours. Not anyone’s.”
Daniel nodded once.
“Agreed.”
Then he called Evan.
His voice was quiet.
Controlled.
“Lock down nothing.”
Hannah looked at him.
He continued.
“No threats. No noise. No one moves without evidence.”
A pause.
“And Evan?”
“Yes?”
“Find out who thinks my son belongs to them.”
May you like
Daniel looked at Hannah.
“And do it her way.”
