
Jonah was awake.
Chapter 3

Jonah was awake.
Blythe was sitting beside him.
Both children looked terrified.
“Daddy?”
I crossed the room and pulled them close.
“I’m here.”
A man stepped from behind the medical equipment.
He wore a dark jacket.
No mask.
No hesitation.
He looked at me like we had met before.
“Lawson Mercer.”
I positioned myself between him and my children.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled faintly.
“You don’t remember me.”
“I don’t forget faces.”
“You forget people.”
That answer irritated me.
“Try again.”
He glanced at Jonah and Blythe.
“Your children are alive because someone ignored your orders.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“What does that mean?”
Before he could answer, Clara entered behind me.
The man looked at her.
“Still helping Genevieve’s mistakes?”
Clara’s expression changed.
For the first time since I met her, I saw fear.
Not for herself.
For my children.
“You were never supposed to find them,” she whispered.
The
man smiled.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“They were never supposed to survive this long.”
I moved forward.
“Who sent you?”
He laughed.
A quiet, almost disappointed laugh.
“You still think this is about money.”
His eyes moved around the room.
“The Mercer empire has always believed everything has a price.”
He pointed toward my children.
“But some things are worth destroying because they cannot be bought.”
The alarms suddenly stopped.
The silence that followed was worse.
Then Prescott’s voice came through the radio.
“Lawson.”
I grabbed it.
“What?”
A pause.
Too long.
“Your security team has identified the intruders.”
“Who?”
Another pause.
“They’re not intruders.”
My blood ran cold.
“What are you talking about?”
“They have Mercer security credentials.”
The man in front of me smiled.
“Exactly.”
I turned toward Prescott.
“How many?”
His answer came quietly.
“All of them.”
The mansion went silent.
Every guard.
Every employee.
Every
person I trusted.
Compromised.
The man stepped closer.
“Your wife found the truth because she stopped trusting everyone around her.”
My grip tightened.
“What truth?”
He looked at Clara.
“Tell him.”
She remained silent.
“Clara.”
Her eyes filled with sadness.
Then she spoke.
“Your children were not the target.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Genevieve was.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“My wife died in an accident.”
Clara looked away.
“That’s what you were told.”
I felt something inside me crack.
No.
I refused to accept it.
“Don’t.”
“Lawson…”
“Don’t say her name.”
Because if Genevieve’s death wasn’t an accident, then every day I spent grieving her had been built on a lie.
Clara walked toward the desk and picked up the photograph.
“Your wife discovered a project.”
“What project?”
“A medical research program.”
The man beside the bed answered.
“One funded by your own company.”
I looked at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
His smile disappeared.
“That’s the part you never understood.”
He stepped closer.
“You weren’t outside the conspiracy.”
“You were the foundation of it.”
I wanted to attack him.
I wanted answers.
I wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare this was.
But then Blythe whispered.
“Daddy…”
I looked down.
Her small hand was holding mine.
“Why is Mommy’s friend crying?”
I looked at Clara.
She was crying.
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