Was it Julian’s men, or Victoria’s?

Or was it Chloe?

I remembered the cold, calculating look in Chloe’s eyes the last time we spoke.

She would do anything to protect Julian, and her own stake in the family fortune.

My phone buzzed in my lap.

It was a text from an unknown number.

“I see you,” the message read.

My heart began to hammer against my ribs.

The driver pulled up to the curb in front of the secure medical building.

The clinic was a modern structure of glass and concrete, surrounded by a high wrought-iron fence.

I saw two men in dark suits standing near the glass sliding doors, trying to look casual.

They were Vance’s federal agents.

I paid the driver and stepped out of the car.

The moment my feet hit the concrete, a sharp, white-hot pain bloomed in my lower abdomen.

I gasped, doubling over slightly and grabbing the side of a concrete planter.

It was much stronger than the cramps from the night before.

My breath came in shallow, ragged gasps.

The pavement beneath my feet seemed to tilt.