Chapter 4
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Tori’s hand flew to her stomach – still flat, betraying no sign of the life growing within. Eight weeks. She did the mental calculation and felt the blood drain from her face. The charity gala. The night Damian had been particularly passionate, his usual control slipping as he’d whispered promises against her skin.
The room fell silent except for the steady beep of monitors. Elena moved closer, her face filled with concern, while Mr. Riley waited patiently for Tori to process the news.
Finally, Tori looked down at her grandmother’s letter, still clutched in her other hand. One line seemed to leap out at her:
“Remember this above all else – a Kane woman’s greatest strength is her ability to turn what others see as weakness into unshakeable power.”
Her hand pressed more firmly against her abdomen. Inside her grew not just a child, but a weapon – living proof of Damian’s ultimate betrayal. He hadn’t just tried to kill his wife; he’d tried to kill the mother of his unborn child.
A cold smile curved Tori’s lips as new possibilities unfolded in her mind. This changed everything – and nothing. The path to revenge would be more complicated now, but the impact of her eventual victory would be all the sweeter.
“Well,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within, “it seems we’ll need to modify our plans.” She met Mr. Riley’s concerned gaze with steel on her own. “Tell me, doctor, how do we plan a resurrection around a pregnancy?”
The ring on her finger caught the light again, the ruby glowing like fresh blood. At that moment, Tori understood what her grandmother had always known – that true vengeance wasn’t just about destruction. It was about rebuilding yourself from the ashes, stronger and more dangerous than before. And she would make damn sure that when Damian finally learned the truth, it would destroy him completely.
* * *
Eight weeks pregnant. The words echoed in her mind like a cruel joke as she pressed her forehead against the cool porcelain, trying to steady her racing thoughts.
The timing was unmistakable. The charity gala. That night was permanently etched in her memory now, taking on new, horrific significance with each detail she recalled.
Six Weeks Ago – The Annual Kane Foundation Gala.
Damian had been particularly attentive that evening, his hand never leaving the small of her back as they walked the room. She’d worn a backless burgundy gown that made his eyes darken with desire every time he looked at her. The champagne had flowed freely, but she remembered him drinking less than usual, staying sharp while encouraging her to enjoy herself.
“You look absolutely ravishing tonight,” he’d whispered in her ear during a quiet moment, his fingers tracing patterns on her bare skin. “Like a queen holding court.”
They’d barely made it home before he’d pressed her against the foyer wall, his usual controlled demeanor cracking as he’d kissed her with almost desperate intensity. The sex had been different that night – more passionate, more primal. He’d marked her neck with his teeth, whispered promises of forever against her skin, made her cry out his name until she was hoarse.
“I love you,” he’d said afterward, something almost like regret flickering in his eyes before he’d masked it. “Never forget that.”
Now, kneeling on the cold hospital bathroom floor, Tori realized he’d already planned her death by then. Had he known about the possibility of pregnancy? Was that why he’d seemed almost guilty in those quiet moments after? Or had it been just another performance in his long con?
A soft knock interrupted her dark thoughts. Elena entered with a glass of water and a concerned expression.
“The morning sickness should ease up in a few weeks,” she said, helping Tori to her feet. “Mr. Riley is ready for your meeting whenever you feel up to it.”
Tori rinsed her mouth, staring at her reflection. The new dark hair made her pallor more pronounced, giving her a haunted quality that seemed fitting. Inside her, a cluster of cells was growing – half her, half Damian. Life and death, love and betrayal, all tangled together in her womb.
Mr. Riley was waiting in his private office, but he wasn’t alone. An elderly man sat in one of the leather chairs, his silver hair and expensive suit projecting an aura of old money and quiet power. He stood when Tori entered, and something about his bearing reminded her sharply of her grandmother.
“Tori,” Mr. Riley made the introductions, “this is Jonathan Ridd, your grandmother’s oldest friend and confidant. He’s been managing certain… contingency plans since her death.”
“Please, call me John,” the man said, his voice cultured but warm. “I’ve known you since you were in pigtails, though you wouldn’t remember. Elizabeth and I thought it best to keep my involvement quiet, given the circumstances.”
Tori took the offered seat, studying him carefully. “What circumstances?”
“The systematic dismantling of your family’s empire,” John replied, opening a sleek laptop. “It started long before you married Damian, my dear. Your grandmother saw the signs – board members being compromised, loyal employees suddenly retiring, strategic positions being filled with carefully placed pawns.”
Images and documents filled the screen – surveillance photos, financial records, connection maps linking various players in what appeared to be an elaborate corporate chess game.
“Kane Industries wasn’t just a target for its assets,” John continued. “It was chosen because of its strategic holdings in key sectors – technology, pharmaceuticals, renewable energy. Your grandmother built a conglomerate that could influence global markets. In the wrong hands…”
“It becomes a weapon,” Tori finished, thinking of all the subsidiaries and partnerships her family had cultivated over generations.
“Exactly. Damian was just one piece in a larger game. His mission was to gain control through marriage, but there were other contingencies in place. If he had failed…” John’s expression darkened. “Let’s just say your accident might have come through different means.”
The implications made Tori’s stomach roll again, but she forced the nausea down. “So marrying me, seducing me – it was all just part of his assignment?”
“Yes and no,” John looked uncomfortable for the first time. “The mission was certainly his priority, but according to our intelligence… his feelings for you complicated things. He wasn’t supposed to wait this long to act.”
A bitter laugh escaped Tori’s lips. “Are you suggesting he loved me too much to kill me sooner? How romantic.”
“I’m suggesting,” John said carefully, “that understanding his true motivations and weaknesses will be crucial for what comes next.”
Mr. Riley cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, we need to discuss your strategy for returning to Kane Industries. The pregnancy… complicates things.”
Tori’s hand went instinctively to her stomach. “How long can we hide it?”
“With careful styling and timing, three to four months,” Elena chimed in from her position by the door. “But that’s not the only consideration. The physical and emotional stress of maintaining a cover while pregnant…”
“Will be significant,” John finished. “There are… other options to consider. Safer paths.”
The word hung unspoken in the air: abortion. Tori closed her eyes, remembering Damian’s hands on her body that night – loving and deadly, gentle and cruel. The child growing inside her carried his DNA, his potential for betrayal.
“The background for Victoria Cross is almost complete,” Mr. Riley continued tentatively. “Ivy League education, impressive corporate restructuring experience, just enough mystery in her past to intrigue without raising red flags. But introducing a pregnancy into the scenario…”
“Would make her more vulnerable,” John nodded. “More memorable. The opposite of what we want for a covert operation.”
Tori stood abruptly, moving to the window. Below, the city stretched out like a concrete jungle, filled with predators and prey. She’d been the latter once, naive and trusting. Never again.
“I need some air,” she said suddenly. “And time to think.”
Elena moved to accompany her, but Tori waved her off. “Alone. Please.”
The hospital’s exterior cameras tracked her movement to the street, where she hailed a cab. The driver asked no questions when she gave him an address in the medical district. Twenty minutes later, she stood outside a discreet building with a simple sign: “Women’s Health Services.”
Her hand rested on her abdomen, feeling nothing yet everything. The child within was innocent of its father’s sins, carrying her family’s blood as much as his. But innocence, she’d learned, was a luxury she could no longer afford.
Looking up at the clinic, Tori remembered her grandmother’s words: “Sometimes the hardest choices are the ones that require sacrificing a piece of your soul. Choose wisely, my darling, for such wounds never truly heal.”
A car honked nearby, making her jump. The sound reminded her of the gala, of champagne and lies and passion that was perhaps not entirely false. Of Damian’s last words of love before he’d tried to end her life.
Her hand dropped from her stomach as she stared at the clinic entrance. “Some sacrifices are necessary for revenge,” she whispered to herself, taking a step forward.
Above her, storm clouds gathered, as if nature itself held its breath to see what choice she would make.
