Chapter 3
"No!" I choked, violently thrashing against the guards' iron grip. "The baby can't take it! Please, Gina, don't do this!"
"If the little bitch can't take it, then she doesn't deserve to be born in the first place."
It felt like literal acid flooding my veins, burning a path straight toward my womb. The chemical tore through my system with catastrophic speed.
Inside me, my little baby began to move. It wasn't the gentle, rolling kicks of a restless baby I had grown used to over the past eight months. It was a violent, frantic, desperate struggle. She was thrashing against the poison. She was suffocating in the dark.
"Stop... stop..." I gasped, my broken fingers scraping uselessly against the freezing concrete.
Then, the movement stopped.
A terrifying, absolute stillness settled over my stomach. Too still. Too quiet.
"Baby? Move... please, just move..." I whispered to the empty air, my voice cracking.
Nothing.
A literal river of dark red blood surged from between my legs, washing rapidly over the frozen floor, soaking the edges of Gina’s boots.
My vision blurred. The harsh fluorescent lights of the morgue began to flicker in my fading consciousness. The edges of the room went entirely black.
"Shit!" Gina stumbled backward, her heel sliding in the growing pool of crimson. "Why is there so much blood? Stop bleeding!"
"Get a doctor! Now!" She shrieked, her voice completely unhinged as she kicked the guard pinning my legs. "She can't die! If she actually dies, Rowdy will kill me! Move, you idiots!"
The guards scrambled off me, their heavy footsteps echoing away as they sprinted for the door.
My body was rapidly shutting down. The bone-chilling temperature of the morgue was seeping into my very core, but I couldn't feel the cold anymore. I just felt empty. My baby was gone.
With the last ounce of strength I possessed in my shattered body, my trembling, broken fingers found the necklace hidden beneath my torn collar. A small, obsidian cross pendant.
I pressed my thumb against the hidden seam on the back and squeezed with everything I had left. The hard casing cracked open.
Inside the shattered cross, a microscopic red light blinked in the darkness.
One. Two. Three.
Then, the signal died.
Just like my vision. The world dissolved into absolute, suffocating blackness.
Rowdy’s POV
A sharp cry shattered in the delivery room.
"It's a boy!" the head obstetrician announced, exhaling a massive breath. "Congratulations, Mr. Shepherd. A healthy, strong baby boy."
I stood by the birthing bed. The agonizing twelve-hour wait was finally over. I rolled my stiff shoulders, ignoring my wrinkled suit and loose tie.
Nancy leaned back against the plush pillows. She was pale, drenched in sweat, but smiling. "Rowdy... we did it."
"You did it, Nancy," I murmured. I wiped a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "You gave him a son. You saved my brother's legacy."
A nurse nervously wrapped the screaming newborn in a gold-embroidered blanket and handed him to me.
I took the bundle. My arms stiffened as I looked down at the red, wrinkled face. The Shepherd family's firstborn grandson. The true heir.
The doors swung open.
Five syndicate elders strode in, their normally ruthless faces breaking into rare smiles.
"You've done well, Rowdy," the oldest patriarch rumbled. He clapped my shoulder hard. "Your brother would be incredibly proud. The bloodline is secure. This boy will inherit everything."
"He will," I declared, my voice leaving no room for doubt. I held the baby up slightly. "Nothing will threaten his position. I made a vow to my brother on his deathbed. Today, I fulfilled it."
Warm murmurs of approval filled the room. The suffocating tension of the past nine months evaporated.
I looked down at the boy, a rare smile touching my lips. But as I stared at his fragile, breathing chest, a sudden, icy needle violently pierced my own.
Celeste.
The image of her FaceTime call crashed into my mind without warning.
"Rowdy, please! My water broke. I'm bleeding!"
My breath hitched. The triumph in my veins instantly turned to ice.
A violent pounding started in my ears.
"Take him," I ordered abruptly, shoving the newborn into the arms of a stunned nurse.
"Rowdy? Where are you going?" Nancy called out weakly from the bed.
I didn't answer. A crushing, suffocating wave of panic gripped my throat. I pushed past the bewildered syndicate elders, my strides long and urgent, boots slamming against the marble floor as I headed straight for the exit.
I had to get to the basement. Now.
I grabbed the handles and violently yanked the doors open.
Crash.
A massive figure stumbled right into my chest, nearly knocking me backward.
It was one of my own security men from the lower levels.
Dead silence slammed into the corridor.
My hand froze on the door handle. My eyes locked onto the sheer volume of blood soaking his clothes.
"What the hell happened?" I growled, grabbing his blood-soaked collar and hauling him up. "Where is Celeste?"
The guard swallowed hard. His knees buckled, sliding in his own bloody footprints.
"It's the basement, Boss... The morgue..." He pressed his forehead against my boots, his voice cracking into a frantic, broken wail. "Mrs. Shepherd... Boss, your wife... She's dead!"
