Chapter 25
“Lydia p>
Lydia walked over and patted the back of her hand soothingly.
“It’s alright. This isn’t your fault p>
But that warmth lasted barely a second before Lydia pulled her hand away. She looked up at the ER doors, pressing her palms together as she muttered a prayer.
“Dear God, please ensure our Zoe and the baby are safe and sound p>
Maeve pressed her lips together and quietly stepped to the side, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.
After what felt like hours, the ER doors swung open. The doctor emerged to inform them that Zoe was out of danger and the baby was unharmed.
Lydia let out a massive sigh of relief.
“Thank God p>
Maeve had been standing the whole time. Hearing the news, she started to step forward, but Lydia beat her to it, turning to face her.
“Mae, you should head back. I’ll stay here and look after Zoe p>
Maeve froze. She looked down at her own shadow—solitary and adrift. After a brief pause, she heard her own voice reply.
“Alright p>
Dazed, Maeve walked out of the hospital and was just about to hail a cab home.
*Screech p>
The sharp, grating sound of brakes hitting asphalt pierced her ears.
Maeve looked up to see a Rolls-Royce pulling up to the curb. Arthur Fairchild’s assistant, Wyatt Ward, stepped out and approached her, gesturing toward the car.
“Mrs. Fairchild, Mr. Fairchild is expecting you p>
“Why does Arthur want to see me?” Maeve asked instinctively.
Wyatt’s response was impeccably professional. “Mr. Fairchild simply instructed me to bring you to the main estate. I am not privy to the details p>
Maeve was usually quite compliant, but right now, she wanted to assert her own will. She stepped around Wyatt, heading toward the street.
“I don’t want to go p>
Wyatt blinked in surprise before immediately stepping into her path to block her.
“Mrs. Fairchild, please don’t make this difficult for me p>
The moment the words left his mouth, two burly bodyguard dd materialized from the shadows, closing in on her. Their posture made it blindingly clear. if she didn’t get in the car willingly, they would force her.
Maeve knew perfectly well she didn’t stand a chance against two highly trained bodyguards.
Giving up the fight, she yanked the door open and slid into the back seat.
The car smoothly pulled away from the curb. She leaned against the window, watching the scenery blur past. She felt like a bird trapped in a cage, suffocated by an invisible force that was slowly dragging her down into a bottomless abyss.
A sudden chill washed over her. She curled up in the corner of the seat, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, desperate to cling to whatever tiny shred of warmth she had left.
The vehicle glided onward. Maeve remained in that exact position until the car finally came to a halt. She forced her stiff limbs to move stepping out and slowly making her way into the grand living room.
In the center of the drawing room, Arthur sat in a solid walnut armchair, sipping his espresso. He looked up, his gaze slicing over Maeve like a sharpened blade.
Without warning, Arthur hurled his cup, sending it smashing into the floor right at Maeve’s feet.
With a loud crash, the porcelain shattered into a hundred jagged pieces.
Maeve instinctively recoiled. Before she could even process what had happened, Arthur’s harsh, booming voice echoed through the room.
“Get outside and stand on the jagged gravel p>