Chapter 3 - Christmas Morning
The contractions came eleven minutes apart.
Then eight.
Then six.
Daniel changed direction immediately.
“Closest hospital is twenty minutes.”
“No.”
Claudia gripped the door handle.
“Your doctor said—”
“My hospital is in Greenwich.”
“Your baby disagrees.”
Another contraction ripped through her.
Claudia closed her eyes.
Sophie sat behind her, suddenly terrified.
“Mom?”
Claudia forced herself to breathe.
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t look okay.”
Fair point.
Daniel called Elena while driving through thickening snow.
By 10:14, they reached a small regional hospital.
The emergency entrance was decorated with blinking Christmas lights.
Claudia barely noticed.
A nurse brought a wheelchair.
Sophie refused to release her hand until Elena arrived thirty minutes later.
“Go with Aunt Elena,” Claudia whispered.
“Promise you’re not dying.”
Claudia’s heart cracked.
“I promise.”
“You can’t promise that.”
The words startled her.
Sophie was ten.
But lately, she sounded older.
Claudia touched her cheek.
“Then I promise I’m going to fight very hard to stay right here.”
Sophie nodded.
“Okay.”
At 11:08, Claudia’s contractions slowed.
The obstetrician on call explained that her membranes had ruptured, but labor was not progressing normally.
They would monitor her overnight.
Christmas morning might bring a baby.
Or surgery.
Claudia stared at the snow outside her hospital window.
Somewhere in Greenwich, Sebastian was calling everyone she knew.
She had turned her phone on long enough to send one message.
I’m safe. Sophie is safe. Do not come looking for us tonight.
His response arrived instantly.
Where are you?
Then:
Please tell me you’re not driving.
Then:
Claudia, answer me.
She didn’t.
At 1:32 a.m., another message appeared.
Whatever you think happened with Porsche, you don’t know everything.
Claudia laughed bitterly.
That was always the sentence people used when the truth was ugly.
At the Greenwich estate, Sebastian had stopped calling.
Instead, he was working.
He pulled six months of corporate access logs.
At 2:10, he discovered his executive credentials had been duplicated.
At 2:43, he found transfers routed through three shell companies.
At 3:06, he learned someone inside Navarro Maritime had downloaded confidential client manifests.
At 3:22, his chief financial officer, Marcus Vane, stopped answering his phone.
That was when Sebastian understood.
Porsche had not been stealing from him alone.
Someone was using her.
Or she was using someone.
At 4:11, his security director called.
“We found Dunham.”
“Where?”
“Stamford office.”
Sebastian stood.
“She broke into the building?”
“She used her badge.”
“Keep her there.”
Porsche was sitting in the conference room when Sebastian arrived.
Her glamorous appearance was gone.
No red lipstick.
No perfect hair.
No designer dress.
She wore jeans, boots, and a coat stained with road salt.
Sebastian threw the red folder onto the table.
“Start talking.”
Porsche looked at it.
Then at him.
“I never asked you to come rescue me.”
“You texted me.”
“No. Marcus did.”
Sebastian’s expression changed.
“He cloned my work phone two weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he has my brother.”
Sebastian went still.
Porsche’s younger brother worked as a marine engineer on one of Navarro’s contracted vessels.
“He threatened him?”
“He threatened everyone.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I made mistakes, Sebastian. I signed things I shouldn’t have signed. Marcus told me they were legitimate consulting payments. When I realized what he was doing, I tried to back out.”
“And Claudia?”
Porsche lowered her gaze.
“I knew she suspected us.”
“Us?”
“The rumors.”
Sebastian’s jaw hardened.
“Were you encouraging them?”
“At first? Yes.”
The answer landed like an insult.
Porsche continued.
“I liked you. You liked being admired. Maybe neither of us wanted to admit how inappropriate it had become.”
Sebastian said nothing.
Because denying it would have been dishonest.
He had never slept with Porsche.
But he had answered late-night messages.
Accepted drinks after meetings.
Allowed intimacy disguised as work.
Allowed Claudia to feel ridiculous for noticing.
Porsche looked at him.
“Your wife wasn’t imagining the distance.”
“No.”
“But the hotel photograph isn’t what she thinks.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know about the photograph?”
“Marcus had Claudia followed after he realized she was investigating.”
That changed everything.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why lead Claudia to the transfers?”
“Because she was the only person close enough to you who Marcus underestimated.”
Sebastian stared at her.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man spoke.
“Mr. Navarro?”
“Yes.”
“This is Dr. Benjamin Shaw from Valley County Medical Center. Your wife listed you as her emergency contact.”
Sebastian’s entire body went rigid.
“What happened?”
“Mrs. Navarro is stable.”
Stable.
A word doctors used before explaining why you should be afraid.
“And the baby?”
A pause.
“We’re preparing for an emergency delivery.”
Sebastian grabbed his coat.
“Tell her I’m coming.”
The doctor hesitated.
“Mr. Navarro, your wife specifically asked that we not disclose her location to you.”
Sebastian stopped.
“She did what?”
“She requested privacy.”
The line went quiet.
Then the doctor added gently:
“But there is another issue.”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“What?”
“Your daughter is here.”
“Sophie?”
“She asked whether someone had called her dad.”
For the first time that night, Sebastian looked genuinely broken.
May you like
By 6:11 Christmas morning—exactly twelve hours after Claudia had told him to go—Sebastian was standing alone in the conference room holding Sophie’s handmade mug.
And Claudia was being rushed into surgery.
