CHAPTER 2 – The Father Who Never Stopped Watching
William Sterling did not ask again.
He did not demand details.
He did not waste a single second on shock or confusion.
He simply said, in a voice that had once calmed storms inside courtrooms and boardrooms alike:
“Stay where you are. Do not leave the house. Do not tell him anything else. I am coming.”
The call ended.
Victoria stood in the dark bedroom still holding the phone, as if her father’s voice had left a physical weight in her palm.
Marcus was watching her now.
Not like a husband.
Like a man recalculating a problem that had just changed shape.
“Your father?” he said carefully. “Tori, you didn’t actually call him, did you?”
“I did.”
A silence dropped between them.
The baby kicked again, harder this time, as if reacting to the tension in the room.
Marcus forced a breathy laugh. “That’s insane. At this hour? After everything we’ve been through, you call him first?”
Victoria turned slowly toward him.
“After everything we’ve been through,” she repeated, “someone just offered forty thousand dollars to have me killed.”
His jaw tightened.
“That’s not real.”
She lifted the phone again.
“Then explain Sloan Carmichael calling you seventeen times in one hour.”
Marcus froze.
Just for half a second.
But Victoria saw it.
That tiny fracture in the mask.
Then it sealed again.
“She’s my colleague,” he said quickly. “We were closing a deal. This is real estate, Tori, people panic at night.”
“At 3 a.m.?” she asked quietly.
He stepped closer to the bed.
The air between them changed temperature.
“You’re tired,” he said gently. “You’re pregnant. Your mind is spiraling. We should go back to sleep and deal with this in the morning.”
Victoria didn’t move.
“Someone told me to stop breathing by midnight.”
Marcus sighed like a man dealing with a child’s nightmare.
“It’s a scam message. Probably random. These things happen all the time.”
“And the price?” she asked.
He hesitated.
Just long enough.
“That’s how scammers work,” he said finally. “They make it feel personal.”
Victoria nodded slowly.
Too slowly.
As if she was memorizing his performance instead of believing it.
Then her phone buzzed again.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Do not involve the police. You are being watched.
Her stomach tightened.
Marcus saw the screen glow.
“What now?”
She didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she turned the phone toward him.
His eyes scanned it.
And this time, there was no controlled reaction.
Something darker passed through his face.
Not fear.
Calculation.
“You need to turn that off,” he said sharply.
“No,” she replied.
His voice dropped. “Tori. I said turn it off.”
The baby kicked violently.
Victoria instinctively stepped back from him.
That movement changed everything in his expression.
He realized she was no longer under his control.
And that realization made him dangerous in a different way.
“Okay,” he said, softening again. “Okay. Listen to me. If this is real—and I’m not saying it is—but if it is, then you’ve just made it worse by contacting your father. He’s going to escalate everything.”
“My father is the only reason I’m still alive,” she said.
Marcus exhaled through his nose.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
And the second he said it, he knew.
Victoria heard it too.
She stared at him.
Not angry.
Not emotional.
Just… final.
“You always say that,” she said quietly. “Whenever I notice something you don’t want me to see.”
Marcus rubbed his face.
“This is not the time—”
A loud knock hit the front door.
Both of them froze.
It came again.
Harder.
Three sharp strikes.
Marcus moved first.
Too quickly.
Victoria noticed that too.
He went toward the hallway without turning back.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
It wasn’t a suggestion.
It wasn’t protection.
It was control.
Victoria didn’t respond.
She followed him anyway.
Down the hallway, the house felt different now.
The luxury, the silence, the expensive furniture—it all felt like a stage set for something about to collapse.
Marcus reached the front door.
“Who is it?” he called.
A voice answered from outside.
“I’m looking for Victoria Hammond.”
Marcus went still.
Victoria stepped closer behind him.
Her breath caught.
That voice.
Calm.
Deep.
Controlled.
Familiar in a way she couldn’t place yet.
Marcus glanced back at her quickly.
“Go upstairs,” he whispered.
“No,” she said.
The knock came again.
“I said I’m here for Victoria Hammond,” the voice repeated. “Open the door.”
Marcus hesitated.
Then slowly opened it.
Cold air rushed into the house.
And standing there was a man in a dark coat.
Late forties.
Graying at the temples.
Posture calm.
Eyes steady.
Too steady.
He looked at Victoria immediately.
Not Marcus.
Her.
And in that instant, her body reacted before her mind could.
Her unborn child kicked so sharply it hurt.
The man’s eyes softened.
Almost imperceptibly.
Then he spoke.
“Hello, Victoria.”
Her throat tightened.
“I don’t know you,” she said.
The man nodded slowly.
“I know,” he replied.
Marcus stepped between them. “Who are you?”
A pause.
Then the man said something that drained the color from the room.
“My name is Daniel Reeve.”
He looked at Victoria again.
“And I was hired to kill you.”
Silence exploded.
Marcus actually stepped back.
Victoria’s hand flew to her stomach.
“No,” she whispered.
Daniel Reeve didn’t move.
“I was paid,” he continued calmly, “to stage a natural death at St. Anne’s Hospital tomorrow night.”
Marcus’s voice cracked. “This is insane—”
Daniel raised a hand slightly.
And Marcus stopped speaking.
Not because he wanted to.
Because something about the man’s presence made him stop.
“I didn’t take the contract,” Daniel said.
Victoria’s knees weakened.
“You… didn’t?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don’t kill pregnant women.”
A pause.
Then he added quietly:
“And I don’t kill the daughters of men I owe my life to.”
Victoria stopped breathing.
“What did you say?”
Daniel’s eyes locked onto hers.
“Your father saved me twenty-three years ago,” he said. “When I was a federal informant in a case that would have gotten me killed.”
The world tilted again.
Marcus looked between them. “This is some kind of setup.”
Daniel ignored him completely.
“William Sterling told me,” Daniel continued, “that if anything ever happened to him, I should watch for a signal.”
Victoria’s voice barely worked.
“What signal?”
Daniel reached into his coat slowly.
Marcus tensed.
But Daniel pulled out something small.
A worn photograph.
He held it out.
Victoria took it with shaking hands.
It was her.
Eight years old.
Standing beside her father.
Smiling.
Happy.
Alive in a way she had forgotten she used to be.
On the back, written in faded ink, were four words:
If she calls you.
Victoria’s breath broke.
“He knew,” she whispered.
Daniel nodded once.
“Yes.”
Behind her, Marcus made a small sound.
Not words.
Not denial.
Something closer to fear leaking through control.
Victoria turned slowly toward him.
For the first time, she saw him not as her husband.
But as something else entirely.
Something cornered.
Something exposed.
Her phone buzzed again.
Unknown number:
You are not supposed to be alive at sunrise.
Daniel’s eyes sharpened immediately.
May you like
“That,” he said quietly, “is not a scam.”
And somewhere far away, a hospital clock ticked toward midnight.
