CHAPTER 6 — THE CHILD THEY WANTED TO TAKE
CHAPTER 6 — THE CHILD THEY WANTED TO TAKE
The first thing Emily did after reading the message was not panic.
That surprised everyone.
Even Raymond.
Most people who discovered that someone wanted to harm them would immediately look for protection.
Security.
Weapons.
Walls.
Emily did the opposite.
She looked at the evidence.
Because fear was emotional.
Evidence was useful.
And Emily had learned something from the people who betrayed her.
People who planned carefully always left something behind.
The message remained on the screen.
STOP HER BEFORE SHE DISCOVERS THE REST.
No name.
No number.
No explanation.
But the threat was clear.
Someone knew about Adrian Saint Claire.
Someone knew Emily was searching.
Someone was watching.
Raymond entered the archive twenty minutes later.
He immediately noticed her expression.
“What happened?”
Emily handed him the phone.
He read the message.
The calm expression disappeared.
Only for a second.
But Emily noticed.
“Who?”
Raymond looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
She studied him.
“You’re lying.”
The answer surprised him.
Not because she accused him.
Because she was right.
“I know who might be involved.”
Emily waited.
Raymond looked toward the old files.
“Your father’s enemies were never just outside the family.”
A pause.
“Some were close.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
“Who?”
Raymond did not answer immediately.
That was the problem with families.
Strangers could betray you.
But family betrayal always came with a history.
Before Raymond could explain, Daniel Hart entered.
This time, he looked genuinely concerned.
“Emily.”
She turned.
“What?”
Daniel placed a folder on the table.
“The Whitmore family filed for emergency custody.”
Silence.
For a moment, Emily did not understand.
Then she opened the folder.
Her hands became cold.
PETITION FOR TEMPORARY CUSTODY OF UNBORN CHILD.
The words stared back at her.
Her child.
The baby she had carried for eight months.
The baby who had never met the world.
And already people were fighting over him.
“On what grounds?”
Daniel answered carefully.
“They claim you are emotionally unstable.”
Emily almost laughed.
Almost.
“Because?”
“They are using the hospital incident.”
Emily looked up.
“The incident where I was attacked?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“And they claim your relationship with Raymond Saint Claire creates a dangerous environment.”
Emily understood immediately.
This was not about the child.
It was about control.
Preston had lost access to her.
Lost access to the hospital.
Lost access to the Saint Claire empire.
But the baby?
The baby was still his connection.
His last piece of power.
“He wants my child.”
Raymond’s expression hardened.
“No.”
Emily looked at him.
“He wants what the child represents.”
A pause.
“An excuse to stay connected to me.”
Across the city, Preston sat in a conference room with his lawyers.
The room looked professional.
Controlled.
But Preston was not.
“He is my son.”
The lawyer nodded.
“Biologically, yes.”
Preston’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t say it like that.”
The lawyer remained calm.
“Mr. Whitmore, custody cases are based on evidence.”
“I have evidence.”
“What evidence?”
Preston placed a folder on the table.
“Her family.”
The lawyer opened it.
Inside were articles.
Photos.
Information about Raymond.
About Saint Claire.
About Emily’s inheritance.
“She lives surrounded by power.”
The lawyer looked confused.
“That is not a reason to deny custody.”
“It is if the power is dangerous.”
Preston leaned forward.
“My wife hid her identity.”
A pause.
“She lied to me for years.”
The lawyer looked at him.
“And you cheated on her.”
The room went silent.
Preston’s jaw tightened.
“That’s unrelated.”
The lawyer closed the folder.
“No.”
A pause.
“In court, everything is related.”
But Preston was not alone.
Someone had helped him.
Someone had given him information.
Someone had prepared this strategy.
That evening, Vanessa arrived at the Whitmore estate.
She looked different.
Less confident.
More nervous.
Preston noticed.
“What happened?”
Vanessa closed the door.
“We need to talk.”
“About?”
“The custody case.”
Preston frowned.
“You’re helping.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I’m warning you.”
Preston stood.
“Why?”
Vanessa hesitated.
Because she had finally discovered the truth.
The person controlling their actions was not Preston.
Not her.
Someone else.
“I found out who gave you the information about Emily.”
Preston froze.
“Who?”
Vanessa looked at him.
“Your mother.”
The answer hit harder than expected.
“Impossible.”
“She knew about Emily’s inheritance.”
Preston stared.
“Why would she help us?”
Vanessa looked away.
“Because she wants something.”
Meanwhile, Emily attended her first legal meeting regarding custody.
She sat across from lawyers who expected a frightened woman.
They were disappointed.
Because Emily did not cry.
Did not beg.
Did not attack.
She simply listened.
Then asked questions.
“Do you have evidence that I am an unsafe mother?”
The lawyer hesitated.
“That is not the only concern.”
“What is?”
“That you have access to significant power.”
Emily tilted her head.
“So having resources makes me dangerous?”
“No.”
“Then explain.”
Silence.
Raymond watched from behind the glass.
Daniel stood beside him.
“She’s like Adrian.”
Raymond looked at him.
“How?”
“She doesn’t fight people.”
A pause.
“She makes them prove themselves.”
The hearing began.
Preston appeared.
He wore a perfect suit.
A perfect expression.
A perfect performance.
The same man who once sent flowers every Friday.
The same man who cried during their ultrasound.
The same man who now claimed she was dangerous.
“Mrs. Whitmore,” the judge asked.
“Do you believe Mr. Whitmore is an unfit father?”
Emily looked at Preston.
For a moment, everyone expected anger.
Instead, she answered honestly.
“No.”
Preston looked surprised.
The judge continued.
“Then why are you opposing shared custody?”
Emily took a breath.
“Because a child needs more than a parent who shares DNA.”
A pause.
“They need someone who protects them.”
Her eyes moved briefly to Preston.
“Even when nobody is watching.”
The courtroom became quiet.
Because everyone understood.
She was not trying to destroy him.
She was telling the truth.
Then Preston’s lawyer presented their evidence.
Photos.
Documents.
Claims.
And finally…
A psychological report.
Emily frowned.
“What is that?”
The lawyer smiled.
“A professional evaluation.”
Daniel immediately stood.
“We have never agreed to this evaluation.”
The lawyer replied:
“It was completed independently.”
Emily looked at the report.
Something felt wrong.
She knew that feeling.
The same feeling she had when she found the financial documents.
Too organized.
Too convenient.
The judge opened the report.
Then stopped.
The expression changed.
“What is this?”
Everyone froze.
The judge looked at Preston’s lawyer.
“This document is not from a licensed psychologist.”
Silence.
The lawyer went pale.
“What?”
The judge held up the paper.
“The credentials are false.”
The courtroom exploded.
Preston looked confused.
“I didn’t know.”
Emily watched him carefully.
And for the first time…
she believed him.
Because Preston was many things.
Arrogant.
Selfish.
Weak.
But this level of planning?
No.
Someone else was moving pieces.
Outside the courtroom, Raymond approached Emily.
“You saw it.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Someone wants this child.”
Emily looked at the crowd.
At reporters.
At strangers.
At the people fighting over her unborn baby.
“No.”
Raymond looked at her.
She corrected herself.
“Someone wants what this child represents.”
That night, Emily returned to the Saint Claire residence.
She placed a hand on her stomach.
Her baby moved.
A small reminder.
A reason to continue.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
No one spoke.
Only breathing.
Then a voice.
A woman’s voice.
Old.
Familiar.
“You should have stayed ordinary, Emily.”
Her blood ran cold.
Because she knew that voice.
“Who are you?”
A pause.
Then:
“Someone who knew your mother.”
The call ended.
Emily stared at the screen.
Raymond entered.
“What happened?”
Emily looked at him.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“It’s starting.”
“What?”
She looked toward the window.
“The people who killed my father…”
A pause.
“They know I’m looking.”
Across the city, inside a dark office, a woman placed the phone down.
Margaret Whitmore.
Preston’s mother.
She looked at an old photograph.
Adrian Saint Claire.
Emily’s mother.
Raymond.
And herself.
A secret from thirty years ago.
A secret she had buried.
A secret that could destroy everything.
She whispered:
“I’m sorry, Emily.”
Then she opened a hidden drawer.
Inside was a file.
Marked:
May you like
THE CHILD WHO WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO INHERIT.
END OF CHAPTER 6
