Chapter 4 - The Fortress
The Vance family estate in Westlake, Texas, was a sprawling fortress of limestone, iron gates, and security guards. Growing up, I had hated how cold it felt. Tonight, it felt like the safest place on earth.
By midnight, a top oral surgeon and a private obstetrician had already arrived at the estate's guest wing.
"The baby is fine, Rachel," Dr. Hayes declared, putting away the portable ultrasound monitor. "Strong heart rate, good movement. You got very lucky."
I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for years. My hand rested on my stomach as the baby kicked again, as if agreeing with the doctor.
Next came the hard part. Dr. Miller, the surgeon, spent two hours cleaning my jaw, taking X-rays, and placing a temporary dental bridge. When I finally looked in the mirror, the physical gap was hidden, but the deep purple bruise blooming across my left cheekbone stood out like a permanent stain.
My father walked into the medical suite, carrying two cups of warm tea. He sat down in the leather armchair beside my bed, looking older than I had ever seen him.
"Why didn't you tell me, Rachel?" he asked, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. "Three years. You cut me off. You barely answered my calls. I thought you hated me for disliking him."
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"He made me feel like it was me against the world, Dad," I confessed, tears spilling over my bruised cheek. "He told me you only wanted to control me. Every time we argued, he reminded me that I ran away from your fortune, so I had to prove I could make my marriage work."
Arthur took my hand, holding it tightly. "He isolated you. It's the oldest trick in the book. But you're home now. And Brandon Miller has no idea what he just unleashed."
