Part 2: The Enemy Who Refused to Let Me Die
Grace closed her eyes and forced herself to remember the one thing Derek never knew.
Seven years ago, before she had ever met him, she had worked for Hawthorne Biotech.
Its ruthless founder, Ethan Hawthorne, had terrified most of the industry. Billionaire. Genius. Impossible to negotiate with.
Grace had been the only employee who ever stood up to him.
When Ethan's younger sister suffered a severe allergic reaction during a product demonstration, every executive panicked, worried about lawsuits and stock prices.
Grace ignored all of them.
She administered emergency treatment herself, rode in the ambulance, and donated blood when it became necessary.
She saved Emily Hawthorne's life.
Ethan never forgot.
He had offered Grace a promotion, a six-figure bonus, and eventually a position as his chief operations officer.
She politely declined.
"I want a quieter life," she'd told him with a smile. "Money isn't everything."
Ethan had simply nodded.
"If you ever need anything," he had said, handing her a plain black business card with only a private number embossed in silver, "call me. Day or night."
Grace had slipped the card into her wallet.
Years later, Derek convinced her to clean out "old junk."
She had almost thrown the card away.
Almost.
Instead, she'd tucked it into the hidden pocket inside her maternity purse.
The purse...
Her eyes widened.
Derek had told her to leave her phone in the car.
But he had carried her purse inside himself because she had complained about the weight.
He'd placed it on a storage cart just before leading her into the freezer.
It had to be here somewhere.
Ignoring another contraction, Grace searched desperately between metal shelves.
Her fingertips were numb.
Her vision blurred.
Finally she saw it.
The leather strap protruded from beneath a pallet of vaccine containers.
She nearly cried with relief.
Inside the purse was her phone.
Derek had assumed the freezing temperature would kill the battery within minutes.
Normally, he would have been right.
Except Grace had replaced the battery only three days earlier.
Her shaking fingers barely obeyed as she powered it on.
Six percent.
No signal.
The reinforced freezer walls blocked almost everything.
She climbed onto stacked boxes, stretching her arm toward an air vent near the ceiling.
One tiny bar appeared.
Then disappeared.
Appeared again.
She dialed the only number she still remembered.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
The line connected.
"Ethan Hawthorne."
His voice hadn't changed.
Calm.
Controlled.
Powerful.
Grace could barely speak.
"Ethan... it's Grace."
Silence.
Then the tone of his voice transformed instantly.
"Grace? What's wrong?"
"My husband..."
Her body doubled over as another contraction ripped through her.
"...he locked me in Industrial Cold Storage Building Twelve..."
The signal crackled.
"I have maybe... six percent battery..."
"Grace."
His voice became frighteningly quiet.
"Stay alive."
The call dropped.
Her battery died.
Grace stared at the dark screen.
Had he heard enough?
Or had she just spent her final chance speaking into silence?
Outside, three buildings away, Ethan Hawthorne slowly lowered his phone.
Every executive inside the boardroom stopped talking.
The billionaire stood.
His face had become completely expressionless.
"Cancel tomorrow's merger."
His assistant blinked.
"Sir?"
"My friend is in danger."
Those four words froze everyone in the room.
Ethan never called anyone his friend.
Within thirty seconds, twenty black SUVs were leaving the Hawthorne headquarters.
Meanwhile, Derek sat comfortably inside his office.
He poured himself a glass of expensive whiskey.
He checked the security monitor showing the freezer door.
No movement.
Perfect.
He smiled.
In less than ten hours, Grace and the twins would be gone.
The insurance company would call it a tragic workplace accident.
He had planned every detail.
Or so he believed.
May you like
He never noticed the convoy of black vehicles racing toward the warehouse.
And he certainly didn't notice the helicopter descending onto the roof.
