A wet warmth soaked through my clothes, pooling on the concrete floor beneath the chair.

She spun around, her eyes widening in disgust and panic.

“No,” she said. “No, you don’t. Not now.”

“I can’t control it,” I whimpered, a sudden, sharp pain drawing a gasp from my throat.

“I need an ambulance. If something happens to this baby, you won’t get a dime. Victoria will make sure of it.”

Chloe laughed, a harsh, brittle sound that echoed in the empty warehouse.

“Victoria?” she said. “Victoria doesn’t care about this baby. She only cares about the Callahan name.”

“She knows the truth about Julian,” I said. “She’s known for a while.”

“Of course she knew,” Chloe said, taking a step closer to me.

“She orchestrated the whole cover-up when the real Tyler Callahan died in that clinic in Switzerland.”

“She wanted a puppet,” I said, the pieces finally falling into place.

“Exactly,” Chloe said. “And Julian was the perfect fit. Until he married you and let you dig into the ledgers.”

She stopped pacing, her head tilting to the side.

Outside, the sound of a car engine approached.