Jay POV
Philippines — Facility — Sublevel Corridor
My legs were giving out. I shoved the door open.
Every breath scraped like sandpaper. Sweat slicked my palms, making the metal rod slippery. The alarms blared so loud it felt like they shook my bones. But I kept running.
There it was. A chance to escape.
The service ladder. It was close—close enough I could see the faded yellow hazard stripe marking the turn ahead. I pushed harder, one hand on my belly, whispering through the pain.
"Just a little more. C'on—"
A shadow moved at the far end of the hall.
I skidded to a stop. Too late.
A guard rounded the corner—bigger than the others. Armor-plated vest. Heavy boots. Rifle slung across his chest. His hand went immediately to his earpiece.
"She's here. Southeast corridor, moving toward the—"
I threw the metal rod. It hit him square across the face.
He stumbled back with a grunt, buying me two seconds—maybe three. I bolted for the ladder alcove—
He recovered faster than I'd hoped. Heavy footsteps thundered after me. I reached the ladder. One hand hit the rung—finally, finally—
An arm wrapped around my waist and yanked.
"No!!"
The scream ripped out of me raw. I kicked, clawed, elbowed anything I could hit. He lifted me off my feet like I weighed nothing, hauling me back down the hall. My nails dragged across the wall, leaving desperate streaks.
"Stop fighting," he barked.
"Let me go! Let me—my baby—!"
"You should've stayed in the examination wing," he said flatly.
I swung my head back and cracked him in the jaw. Pain shot through my skull, but he grunted, loosening his grip. I twisted, almost slipping free—
Then his hand closed around my wrist with brutal precision, twisting it behind my back until something popped. A scream tore out of me. My knees buckled.
The baby kicked hard—frantic, panicked—and I felt an icy wave rush through me.
"No—no—fuck—"
More guards arrived, surrounding us.
"She harmed one of ours," one said.
"She's a flight risk," another added. "Take her to East Wing isolation."
I froze.
East Wing.
Long-term. Observation. Women who never came back out.
My breath stuttered. "No… you jerk… don't take me there—"
They didn't answer. Two guards grabbed my arms while the first held me upright. They strapped my wrists behind me with cold restraints, tight enough to numb my hands.
"Walk," someone ordered.
But my knees shook. I could barely stand.
So they dragged me.
Down the hall. Past the broken fetal monitor still lying on the exam room floor. Past the security office where screens flickered with silent footage of my failed escape.
We reached a steel door marked:
E-Block: Clinical Containment A guard scanned a badge. The lock hissed open.
A frigid blast of antiseptic air hit me as they pulled me inside.
My stomach turned. The room was white—too white, blinding, sterile, empty except for a medical bed strapped to rails and a glass wall that looked into an adjoining room.
I didn't understand. Not until I saw the figure through the glass. A pregnant woman.
Strapped down. Eyes unfocused. An IV in her arm. Fetal monitors taped to her belly. Mouth moving silently as if she were talking to someone only she could hear.
I sobbed.
"No—no—please—I'm not staying here— don't make me—"
Hands forced me onto the bed
I thrashed. Kicked. Nearly rolled off the edge. But they pinned me easily. I was exhausted. Pregnant. Barefoot and terrified.
A medical tech pushed a cart closer, snapping on gloves. "Sedation?"
"Level two," the guard said. "He doesn't want her unconscious. Just compliant."
He.
Kaizer.
My blood turned to ice.
The tech leaned over me with a syringe. I bucked hard, jerking away.
"Don't touch me!" My voice broke, wild. "My baby—don't—"
A hand gripped my jaw, forcing my head still. The needle bit into my arm.
Fire spread under my skin, crawling into my veins. My vision swam. The ceiling doubled.
"No… please… Keifer…"
Darkness folded in—not fully, but enough to steal my strength, my fight, my voice. The guards stepped back.
"She's secured."
"Notify Kaizer. Tell him she's ready for transfer protocol."
Transfer protocol.
My eyes fluttered weakly.
Somewhere inside me, beneath the drug haze, a whisper rose:
Keifer… please hurry…
**Keifer POV
London — Watson Estate — War Room
The minute the printer spat out the last of the forged documents, I swept them into the go-bag. Passports, IDs, flight clearance—everything we needed to get into the Philippines unnoticed.
Everything I needed to get her back.
Uncle—or the man I'd thought of as "Uncle" until two hours ago—was sorting through weapon cases, checking seals, swapping out suppressors with practiced precision.
"You'll need a short-range comm set," he muttered. "Nothing traceable. Nothing that pings satellites Kaizer intercepts."
He tossed a device onto the table. I caught it without looking. My mind was still trapped in the image of that satellite photo.
The compound. The fences. The medical wings.
My mother, held there. Jay, taken there. Every breath felt like it was burning me from the inside out.
Uncle watched me, eyes narrowing. "You're thinking too loud."
"Jay's been in that facility for hours," I snapped. "Every minute we waste—"
"—is a minute Kaizer plans around your reaction," he finished calmly. "Don't give him the satisfaction of predictable stupidity."
I slammed the go-bag onto the table. "This isn't stupidity. He has her. And the baby. Do you understand that? My child—my—"
My voice broke.
For a moment, the war room was silent except for the hum of the old bulbs.
Niles stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. Firm. Not gentle. But grounding.
"Keifer. Listen to me. Kaizer will use her as leverage. He'll make demands. Threats. He'll try to reshape the entire family structure with that child as the centerpiece. That means he will keep her alive."
"I don't want alive," I growled. "I want free."
"And you will get her free. But you don't get her back by storming a fortified compound on emotion."
I dragged a hand through my hair. My pulse felt like a thunderstorm.
Niles continued, "There's more."
He handed me a tablet.
A message blinked on the screen—intercepted from Kaizer's internal network. Simple. Cold.
Subject: Patient 07B Status: Recovered after escape attempt.
Transferring to East Wing containment. Proceed with fetal monitoring protocols.
My heart stopped.
"She tried to escape," I whispered.
Niles gave a grim nod. "She's fighting. Hard."
I gripped the edge of the table so tightly the metal groaned.
"She's scared," I said. "She's drugged. She's alone."
"She's not alone," Niles corrected. "She has you coming for her. And she knows it."
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I could almost feel her—panicked, hurting, desperate—reaching for me through the distance.
"I swear," I whispered, voice lowering into something lethal, ancient, unshakeable.
"I swear to God, I'm getting her out. I don't care who burns for it. Kaizer. His guards. His entire fucking empire."
Niles didn't flinch. "Then suit up. We leave in twenty minutes."
I opened my eyes. And for the first time since she was taken, something inside me clicked into place.
War.…
End of chapter 44
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