Chapter 4

The next day, I waited until Lucas had gone out on business.

I wheeled my suitcase out of the estate. I was about to call a car when I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Isabella came after me, one hand pressed to her lower back. Her face was puffy, and her eyes flickered with agitation and calculation. She grabbed the handle of my suitcase and wouldn't let go.

"Freya! Please don't go! This is all my fault. I can move out!

"Please don't divorce Lucas over this... But the Enright family needs this baby. I swear I'll never try to take your place!"

Her shouting drew stares. I didn't want to keep struggling with her, so I pulled away and tried to leave.

Then Isabella screamed, lost her footing, and fell hard onto the concrete steps!

"Ah!"

She let out a bloodcurdling shriek and curled up on the ground, clutching her stomach. "Freya, why did you push me?!"

Bright red blood soaked through her pants and spread into the rain puddles.

"Blood! The pregnant woman is bleeding heavily!" shouted one of the estate guards.

Just then, a black Rolls-Royce came tearing up the drive and screeched to a stop at the gate.

The door flew open. When Lucas saw the pool of blood, all the color drained from his face.

"Isabella!" he roared, rushing toward her, his whole body shaking.

Isabella weakly grabbed the hem of his suit jacket. "Lucas... save the baby... Freya didn't mean to push me..."

Lucas's head snapped up. His eyes bloodshot, he grabbed my wrist.

"Freya! How long are you going to keep this up?!"

"I didn't push her! She fell on her own!" I fought to pull free. "Let go, Lucas!"

Lucas roared, nearly out of his mind. "That baby is an Enright, and it's your only hope of keeping your place. How could you!

"If anything happens to Isabella, my family will never forgive you! Get in the car!"

He shoved me into the passenger seat and locked the doors. Then he carried Isabella, who had gone into shock, to the back seat and floored the gas pedal.

The car reeked of blood.

Lucas kept glancing at the back seat in the rearview mirror, gripping the steering wheel so tightly it creaked.

"Hang on, Isabella. We're almost at the hospital!" His voice shook.

Rain poured down. Even with the wipers at full speed, Lucas could barely see through the windshield.

I watched the speedometer climb past 80 miles an hour, my stomach churning. "Lucas, slow down!"

He gunned it through a red light. "Slow down? How am I supposed to slow down?! If we lose this baby, everything I've done will be for nothing!"

I closed my eyes and didn't say another word.

As we sped down the off-ramp from the bridge, we came upon a construction truck parked across the road, its hazard lights flashing.

Lucas could see less than 100 feet ahead. He shouted and slammed on the brakes!

The steering wheel jerked, and the tires screeched across the wet road.

The car spun out of control, and the passenger side slammed into the steel guardrail!

Bang!

The airbags exploded open. The force of the impact turned everything black, and blood ran down my forehead into my eyes.

The crushed footwell trapped my right leg.

"Ugh... Lucas..." I coughed up blood and struggled to speak.

Lucas, his face scratched and bloody, kicked open his door and crawled out.

His first instinct was to run to the passenger side, and he yanked at the door.

But the guardrail had bent it out of shape, and it wouldn't budge.

"Freya! Freya, are you okay?!" Lucas gasped, pounding on the window.

Then a faint moan came from the back seat. Isabella had slipped off it and lay covered in blood, barely breathing.

Lucas looked back, torn.

At that moment, two SUVs with their hazard lights on pulled over behind us on the bridge.

Four or five good Samaritans ran through the downpour with crowbars. "There's been a crash! Hurry, help them!"

A middle-aged man ran to the passenger side, looked in, and shouted:

"The pregnant woman in back is in shock. If she doesn't get to a hospital, it might be too late!

"The passenger door is jammed. There are enough of us here, and we have tools. Get her to the hospital now!"

Lucas looked at the strangers holding crowbars.

Stretched to the breaking point, torn between despair and the blind confidence of a man used to giving orders, he made his choice in an instant.

He yanked open the back door and lifted Isabella out. She was ice-cold.

"Help me... Lucas... I can't move my leg..."

With the last of my strength, I reached through the shattered window and grabbed his rain-soaked coat.

Holding Isabella, Lucas crouched beside me. His eyes were red.

"Freya, listen to me! The door's crushed shut. I can't open it alone!

"They have the right tools. They'll have that door open in no time! Just hold on for two minutes!

"Isabella's bleeding heavily and in shock. If we wait any longer, we'll lose the Enright heir!"

He couldn't even look at my blood- and tear-streaked face. Trembling but determined, he pried my fingers off his coat one by one.

"Freya, hold on! As soon as I get her to the ER, I'll come back for you!"

He screamed himself hoarse at the strangers.

"Please! You have to get my wife out! She's trapped in the passenger seat! I'm begging you!"

Then he carried Isabella into a good Samaritan's SUV, which sped off into the storm.

The SUV had only just merged into the traffic on the bridge.

Then, without warning, a short circuit sent sparks showering from beneath the wrecked Rolls-Royce!

The sharp smell of gasoline filled the air!

"Oh no! The gas tank's leaking! It's going to catch fire!"

The strangers who'd been about to pry open the door jumped back in fear. "Back up! Get a fire extinguisher! It's going to blow!"

Through the pain, I watched the taillights of the SUV carrying Lucas fade into the rain. The last shred of hope I had went with them.

I closed my eyes and let the hot blood and tears mingle with the icy rain. Every good memory we'd shared was gone for good.

Lucas, there's no future for us anymore.