Chapter 4

When I got back, Ethan was in the kitchen chopping vegetables, his apron tied immaculately.

"Did you see Victoria?"

He didn't even ask *who* I met. He already knew.

"Get her to leave me alone."

"I can't. She’s the client."

"I don't care what she is. Tell her to take the cameras out of my home."

He laid down his knife, wiped his hands, and pulled an envelope from the entryway drawer.

"Your ID is in here."

I reached for it, but he pulled it back.

"Chloe, you have two choices. Option one: follow the plan, deliver the baby, your mom’s bills are paid, and you walk away with a million dollars. Option two..." He slid the envelope into his pocket. "I have the embryo consent form with your signature. It’s real. Even if you sue me, you're legally tied to this process. You're an accomplice."

"That form had your name on it, not Adrian’s."

"The original copy has Adrian’s name. You didn't even read it when you signed."

My mouth opened, but no sound came out.

He was right. I had trusted him blindly. Every document he put in front of me, I had signed without reading past the first line.

"I'll hold onto your ID and cards for now. Just tell me what you need, and I'll buy it for you."

"This is kidnapping."

"This is just domestic negotiation."

He went back to chopping vegetables.

When he went down to throw out the trash in the afternoon, I picked up the landline in the living room.

No dial tone.

He had restricted the settings. It could only receive incoming calls.

I took a deep breath, walked out of the apartment, and knocked on my neighbor's door. Mrs. Davis opened it, gasping when she saw my pale face.

"Chloe? Oh dear, you look terrible."

"Sarah, can I borrow your phone? Mine is broken."

She handed it to me. I quickly dialed Sienna's number from memory.

It rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Sienna, it’s me. I need—"

The phone was ripped from my hand.

Ethan was standing behind me, offering Mrs. Davis a polite, apologetic smile.

"Sorry about this, Sarah. My wife’s hormones are all over the place because of the pregnancy. She’s a bit paranoid lately, thinks everyone is out to get her."

"Oh, pregnancy brain is no joke," Mrs. Davis said sympathetically, looking at me with pity. "Get some rest, Chloe. Don't stress."

The door shut.

Ethan grabbed my wrist and dragged me back inside. Not painfully, but firm enough that I couldn't break free.

"Don't try that again."

"You're keeping me prisoner!"

"I'm protecting you."

That afternoon, he drove me to a private clinic. Not the high-end hospital where I did my IVF, but a sketchy office tucked away at the end of an alley.

In the exam room, a middle-aged man in gold-rimmed glasses flipped through my chart while hosting a FaceTime call.

Victoria's face appeared on his screen.

"Dr. Carter, how are her stats?"

Dr. Carter lifted his stethoscope from my belly, checking me like a machine off an assembly line.

"Vitals are stable. But her stress levels are too high. High cortisol can affect placental function."

"What's the fix?"

"I recommend Clonazepam. One pill every night. Once her sleep improves, her mood will stabilize."

"Write the prescription," Victoria ordered.

I pushed Dr. Carter’s hand away. "You're giving me heavy sedatives? I'm pregnant!"

Dr. Carter didn't even look up. "A low dose has manageable risks for the fetus."

Victoria’s voice came through the speaker, cold and monotone.

"Just cooperate, Chloe. You need to sleep so my baby can grow."

The nurse walked over with a cup of water and a small white pill.

"Drink up, Mrs. Miller. You'll get a good night's sleep."

Ethan watched me from the corner, silent.

I took the pill and put it in my mouth.

I took a sip of water.

I pressed my tongue hard against the roof of my mouth, trapping the pill underneath, and swallowed only the water.

"Good girl," Ethan said, patting my head.