Chapter 5 - PROJECT THREE
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
The photograph trembled between my fingers.
Ethan.
A woman I didn't recognize.
A faceless man.
And those four words burned into my mind.
PROJECT THREE WAS SUCCESSFUL.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian stood beside my bed, staring at the photograph.
“I don't know yet.”
“You said this marriage might have been planned.”
“I said I think it was.”
I looked at him.
“You've been investigating Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Six months.”
My breath caught.
“Six months?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“Because money started moving through companies connected to him.”
“What kind of money?”
“Money that didn't make sense.”
I looked back at the photograph.
“And you think I'm connected to it?”
“I think you're more connected than you realize.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
I had spent five years believing my life was ordinary.
A difficult marriage.
A wealthy husband.
A beautiful apartment.
Business dinners.
Charity galas.
Arguments.
Reconciliations.
Then one night, Ethan had thrown me away like I was nothing.
Now a billionaire was telling me that my marriage might have been part of something called Project Three.
I didn't know which possibility frightened me more.
That Ethan never loved me.
Or that he had loved me for exactly the wrong reason.
“What was Project One?”
Adrian looked at me.
“I don't know.”
“Project Two?”
“Unknown.”
“Then how do you know about Project Three?”
“Because someone sent me the photograph.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
“Adrian.”
“I don't know.”
“You always know.”
“Not this time.”
His voice was different.
Less confident.
Almost worried.
That frightened me more than anything else.
A nurse entered.
“Mrs. Mercer?”
I turned.
“Your babies are stable.”
Relief flooded through me.
“Can I see them?”
“Yes, but only briefly.”
I looked at Adrian.
He nodded.
“Go.”
The NICU was quiet when I entered.
Three incubators.
Three tiny bodies.
Three fragile lives.
I placed my hand against the glass surrounding my daughter.
“Mommy's here.”
Her tiny fingers moved.
I smiled through tears.
“I'm sorry.”
I moved to the next incubator.
“My brave boy.”
Then the third.
The smallest.
His chest rose beneath the ventilator.
I whispered his name.
I had chosen their names months ago.
Lucas.
Noah.
Grace.
Three names I had whispered every night when Ethan wasn't home.
Three names he had barely bothered to ask about.
I stood there until a nurse touched my shoulder.
“You should rest.”
“I don't want to leave them.”
“You don't have to.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“We have a private family suite overlooking the NICU.”
I frowned.
“I can't afford that.”
The nurse smiled.
“Mr. Blackwood arranged it.”
Of course he had.
At three in the morning, I woke to voices outside my room.
A man's voice.
Ethan.
“You're making a mistake.”
Adrian answered.
“No.”
“You don't know what you're involving yourself in.”
“I know exactly what I'm involving myself in.”
“You think Claire is innocent?”
Silence.
Then Adrian said:
“I know she is.”
Ethan laughed.
“You have no idea who she is.”
My heart stopped.
I got out of bed.
Pain shot through me, but I forced myself toward the door.
Ethan continued.
“She wasn't chosen randomly.”
Adrian's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Explain.”
“I don't owe you anything.”
“You do if you want to keep your companies intact.”
“You're threatening me?”
“No.”
A pause.
“I'm warning you.”
I opened the door.
Both men turned.
Ethan's expression changed.
“Claire.”
I looked at him.
“What did you mean?”
He said nothing.
“You said I was chosen.”
“Go back to bed.”
“Chosen for what?”
Ethan looked at Adrian.
“This is exactly why you shouldn't trust him.”
I stepped forward.
“You've been lying to me for five years. Don't tell me who to trust.”
His jaw tightened.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
He looked at my stomach.
For the first time, his eyes filled with something I couldn't identify.
Fear.
“Those children changed everything.”
“What does that mean?”
He turned away.
“Ask your friend.”
Adrian stepped toward him.
“Don't.”
Ethan smiled.
“You'll find out soon enough.”
Then he walked away.
I watched him disappear.
“Adrian.”
He didn't look at me.
“What?”
“What did he mean?”
“I don't know.”
“That's another lie.”
He finally looked at me.
“I know more than I told you.”
My heart sank.
“How much?”
“I knew Ethan was involved in something.”
“How long?”
“Before I met you.”
I stared at him.
“And you still came into my life?”
His expression hardened.
“I didn't come into your life because of Ethan.”
“Then why?”
“Because of your father.”
I froze.
“My father?”
Adrian nodded.
“Daniel Bennett.”
I hadn't heard that name spoken in years.
My father had died when I was twenty-two.
At least, that was what I'd been told.
“What does my father have to do with Ethan?”
“Everything.”
My hands went cold.
“My father was a mechanic.”
“No.”
Adrian shook his head.
“Your father was an engineer.”
“That makes no sense.”
“He designed medical technology.”
I stared at him.
“What medical technology?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Artificial neonatal support systems.”
My breath caught.
The incubators.
The ventilators.
The technology keeping my children alive.
“My father invented them?”
“He helped create the original system.”
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because his research disappeared.”
“Where?”
Adrian looked toward the NICU.
“Mercer Holdings acquired the company that owned it.”
I felt sick.
“Ethan's company?”
“Yes.”
My mind raced.
“My father died before I met Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“And then Ethan somehow ended up marrying me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked directly into my eyes.
“That's what we're going to find out.”
The next morning, I received a package.
No return address.
Inside was an old notebook.
The cover was stained and worn.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
My father's.
My hands began shaking.
I opened it.
Most of the pages were filled with technical diagrams.
Numbers.
Medical notes.
Names.
Then I found a page near the back.
Three words had been circled repeatedly.
TRIPLET PROTOCOL.
Underneath:
Subject Three shows strongest response.
I turned the page.
A single sentence appeared.
If they ever try to use my daughter, destroy the research.
I stopped breathing.
“My daughter?”
Adrian took the notebook from my hand.
He read the sentence.
Then looked at me.
“What?”
“My father wrote this before he died.”
Adrian turned another page.
There was a date.
Six months before my birth.
My blood ran cold.
“What does this mean?”
Adrian looked at me.
“I think your father knew you would become part of Project Three.”
“No.”
“I think he tried to stop it.”
“No.”
“And I think Ethan's family found his research after his death.”
I backed away.
“No.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Claire.”
“No.”
I pressed both hands against my face.
“I was just a woman who married the wrong man.”
“I know.”
“I wasn't part of some experiment.”
“I hope you're right.”
The words hit me.
Hope.
Not certainty.
Then the hospital alarm began screaming.
A nurse ran into the room.
“Mrs. Mercer!”
“What happened?”
“It's Grace.”
My heart stopped.
“What about her?”
“Her heart rate just crashed.”
I ran.
Adrian followed.
The NICU doors opened.
Doctors surrounded my daughter's incubator.
“She's crashing!”
I pressed my hand against the glass.
“Grace!”
Her tiny body went still.
The monitor screamed.
Then the doctor shouted:
“Prepare for emergency intervention!”
I began sobbing.
“No, please.”
Adrian stood behind me.
His face was pale.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
A voice spoke.
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Silence.
Then:
“Who accessed the system?”
He looked toward my daughter.
His face changed.
“Shut everything down.”
He hung up.
I turned.
“What happened?”
He stared at me.
“Someone remotely accessed the NICU equipment.”
My blood froze.
“What?”
“They're trying to control the ventilator.”
The doctor shouted:
“We've lost remote access!”
Adrian's expression became murderous.
“Get me the server room.”
He turned toward the hallway.
I grabbed his arm.
“Save my daughter.”
He looked at me.
“I will.”
Then he disappeared with security.
And for the first time, I realized the person trying to hurt my babies wasn't hiding somewhere outside the hospital.
May you like
They were already inside the building.
Watching us.
