CHAPTER 8: THE ENEMY WITHIN

ATHENA'S POV

I sit on the velvet couch with my knees pulled up to my chest and a blanket wrapped tightly around me even though the penthouse is already warm enough.

My fingers won’t stop shaking and no matter how many deep breaths I take or how many glasses of water I drink, I can’t stop remembering the feel of the gloved hands of those men dragging me backward.

Worse, remembering it keeps making me to panic; I haven’t slept since the attack.

Every time I close my eyes, I end up seeing their masked faces and now every gust of wind outside makes me flinch.

I can hear Xander downstairs, he’s barking orders on the phone.

“I don’t give a damn if it’s the chief of police —someone tried to kidnap the mother of my child, and you’re telling me there are no leads? Find them or I will.”

He says a few more words and I have to tilt my head to catch them.

“I want a full sweep of the security staff, starting with the night crew. If even one of them so much as looked the wrong way, they’re fired.”

Hearing his words make my stomach twists; he'd already fired five house staff yesterday.

So to say he was furious was a great understatement.

And still, I can’t ignore the facts that are now forming inside my head like a jigsaw puzzle.

Veronica; The phone call at the gala; The “anonymous” threats; The insemination mix-up.

There’s just too much coincidence in this mess for it to be… just a mistake.

I need answers, but thankfully I think I now know where to start from.

Sometime later, Reed left his tablet charging in the hallway nook, where he usually keeps it and I glanced down the corridor.

There were no guards and no Xander.

Carefully, I pad over and grab the tablet, my pulse pounding as I wonder how on earth I'll unlock Reed's password.

However when I swipe at the phone's screen, I'm shocked to see that Reed doesn't have a password, pattern, pin or at least a facial verification.

Suddenly I find myself worrying for him and his cyber safety.

But then I shake my head and decide to concentrate on what I'm about to do---- which is to login to the Sterling Fertility Institute's database.

Actually, the Sterling Fertility Institute is secured behind layers of passcodes and staff verification— but I’ve worked there for six years so I know all the backdoors, hidden logins and emergency override that was built into the old system years ago when the database suddenly had a glitch.

Now, I open the archive files and search for the insemination schedule on the day it happened— two months ago.

Patient: Athena Foster.

Donor ID: 021976.

I furrow my eyebrows at the strange ID and my hands tremble as I tap the ID.

When it opens up, there's no name, just a blank screen and a spinning wheel.

“What the hell…?” I whisper to myself.

I try again and again, every time I end up seeing the same result— missing files, blank entries, corrupted data.

Hell, the ID isn't even Xander's sperm tag ID.

And that only means one thing; someone’s been here, cleaning this up.

I move to access the embryo transfer records at least— but half of them are just… gone.

I scroll faster, feeling panic start to rise in my throat as I see that the schedule doesn’t match at all.

----- There’s a log-in from my ID at 4:12 p.m. that day but I know that I wasn’t in the lab until 5 in the evening.

I didn’t initiate anything at 4:12; someone must have spoofed my login.

But who the hell would do that?

I think of all the other things that might have happened at that time with my ID and a chill runs down my spine.

God, this goes deeper than I thought.

I wipe out the app list history on Reed's phone and shut it down, going over to my room while I think;

I need to get into the actual mainframe, and I can’t do that from Reed's phone or any phone in fact----- I’ll need to visit the clinic itself.

But first I need to act normal, I need to pretend like I haven’t figured any of this out.

... Just incase.

------------------

Downstairs------ I still have no idea how a penthouse can have a staircase inside of it-----, Xander is pouring himself another whiskey when I enter the room.

His eyes flick to me, and for a second or two, there’s... well... something soft in his gaze while he looks at me.

“You should be in bed,” he says in a rough voice.

“I couldn’t sleep," I reply, walking slowly toward him.

“I needed air.”

He eyes me carefully before saying; “You’re safe now, I’ve tightened everything. No one will get near you unless they pass through two layers of clearance.”

I nod, grateful for the effort even though I know it's just because of the fact that I'm his pregnant with his baby.

"Thanks, that helps.”

He studies me, and it looks as if he’s trying to decide whether or not to say something.

The finally he says, “You still think it was Veronica, don’t you?”

I flinch, surprised. “What?”

“At the gala. You overheard or saw something and it's made you different ever since.”

“I just… have a feeling,” I say softly, choosing my words carefully.

Xander’s jaw clenches at my words, probably because he doesn't believe them.

“I’ve asked her and she denied it.”

I laugh bitterly. “Of course she did.”

“I know Veronica,” he says tightly.

“No,” I say gently, interrupting him.

“You think you know her. But the woman I saw that night wasn’t acting.”

His eyes darken. “She wouldn’t hurt the baby.”

“She’d hurt me,” I counter, lifting my chin. “Which is the same thing.”

Xander doesn't say anything else and just downs the rest of his drink in one harsh swallow.

MEANWHILE...

Somewhere in the city, Veronica sits in the back of a black town car, staring through the tinted glass as the vehicle rolls to a stop.

Then a butler opens the door and bows his head down a bit, greeting her.

“Miss Sterling.”

She steps out, not replying him and walks toward the stone building that's at the end of the private estate driveway.

When she gets inside, she’s led to a grand sitting room, where an older man with steel- gray hair and even colder eyes is sitting reading a newspaper by the fire.

“Xander’s fiancée,” he murmurs without looking up.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need your help,” Veronica says calmly, even though her hands that are holding her designer clutch are twitching slightly.

Hearing her words, the man folds the paper and finally raises his head, lifting up his gaze.

“I didn’t think I owed you anything.”

“You want to protect your son’s legacy, don’t you?”

He doesn't reply but instead raises a brow.

It's not much of a reply, but knowing the sort of man he is, Veronica realised that she's had him interested in what she has to say and so she continues.

“Then get THAT woman out of the picture before she ruins everything.”

For a moment, the man remains silent and so does Veronica as she waits for his response.

Then the man— Elias Knight, leans forward and interlocks his fingers.

“Tell me everything,” he says calmly.